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 trembles with fear, and Alf congratulates himself for a good night's work...
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. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 15
I think I'll give Morris one final dose of my troll impression, thought Alf. He bent forward, swung his arms like a gorilla, and clumped around the tent, scratching and kicking it; all the while screeching his cacophony of animal impressions. Acting the troll was more fun than he'd had in years.
When he next gazed into the tent, he figured Morris had endured enough. The wimp had fallen to his knees, head bent, hands clasped in prayer.
Time to leave him and make my way home, Thought Alf. Best to stop before he becomes suspicious. It amazed him that people could be so gullible, even hardened unbelievers like Morris.
As far as Alf was concerned, overzealous writers and filmmakers had invented trolls, zombies and poltergeists; there were no such beings. The real world was frightening enough, without having to worry about monsters and spooks. No, it was all a load of old poppycock.
If the tables had been turned, and Morris had tried to frighten him with trolls, he would've laughed his socks off.
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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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