Bert felt jealous, cheated on, and blue. Then he discovered he could morph into a giant nightmarish slug...
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On Wednesdays and Sundays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ novellas. You can check in regularly and read them bit for bit, or leave a message in my 'contact' page, and I'll send the entire digital story to you for free when published.
Life in the Clouds #6: Take a Slug ® James Field.
In the last post: Morris and Alf returned to Sibyl's kitchen, ashamed they found no toadstools for her. Alf boasted he ate one...
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. This is the last part of ‘Eerie Eve’. Next up is ‘Enchanter on the Roof.’
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 33
Sibyl turned back to the frying pans and flipped the eggs and bacon. Her well-padded shoulders bounced in silent amusement.
"What?" said Alf, nausea rising in his throat. "So I ate a tiny little toadstool. I'm going to be all right, aren't I?"
"Oh yes, mostly. But..." Laughter stifled her words and it took a moment before she could continue. "But if there's ever another full moon on the ninth day of September, you'll be so love-struck that you'll have to go searching for your lady troll."
It was then Morris noticed his wicker basket, still packed with toadstools, on a shelf above Sibyl's head. "Ah," he said, suspecting how she might have obtained them.
Alf followed his gaze and sunk into a dining chair. "Huh! How did that get there?"
Sibyl swaggered across the stone floor, a loaded plate of food in each hand. After placing one in front of each man, she wiped her hands on her pinafore, released her hairnet, swished her hair loose, and clapped them on their backs. "You boys care to tell me your version of why you're both so tired?" Her nose suddenly seemed longer than usual and her pupils had grown beady. She blinked at them, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Had the company of Husminx, maybe?”
"I'll tell you about it later," mumbled Morris, which was his way of saying: let's not talk about it. All he wanted was to forget the night and his cowardly behaviour as best he could.
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The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
There’s a lot to like and a lot to dislike in this story. I like that it’s cosy, funny, and heart-warming. The plot, however, is a tragedy. There are two murders, and every character in the book, of which there are many, has a motif. With so many twists, turns, and red herrings throughout the narrative, it lost me in a virtual maze.
But the author commits the gravest crime: he introduces a new, guilty character right at the end of the story. Tut, tut, naughty.
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