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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.​



Twin Cheats

In the last post: Sibyl warns Morris not to pick toadstools at midnight. Husminx, a ruthless lady troll, is after them too...

31/12/2019

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EDear friend, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be 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 03

​With a mammoth rucksack strapped to his back, and a wicker basket dangling in his hand, Morris staggered off towards the estate’s lake. On his way, he was unlucky enough to meet Alf, one of the Cloud Estate's two security guards. Alf was a giant, with bulging muscles and a battered head as featureless and flat as an old leather football. A dumpy little robot stood by his side, about the same height as Morris.

"Where are you going?" asked Alf, a smile playing across his scarred face. "Mushroom picking?"

"Toadstools, if it's any of your business." Morris had a nasty suspicion that Alf was a nosy parker, with his cauliflower ear at keyholes and open windows. How else could he guess about the toadstools?

"I wouldn't dare go into the woods tonight," said Alf. "They say trolls are out and about."

Morris stiffened. "How do you know? Who says?”

​Alf tapped his forehead. "I see and hear it all in here. Ask young Master Trevor, it was him who modified me third eye. It ain't my fault if I can see and hear through walls."

Morris snorted. Nitwits surrounded him on all sides. Apart from Alf’s idiocy, Sibyl believed in ghosts and magic, and young Master Trevor fiddle-faddled with technological humbug. Morris considered himself a down-to-earth sort of chap: a professional, first-class gardener. "All this talk of trolls is nonsense. I'm off to spend a peaceful night in God's magnificent nature. That's all."

"And pick toadstools for Sibyl."

"If you know so much, why ask?" Morris shifted the weight of his rucksack, almost toppled, caught his balance, and trudged on his way.
​
To be continued…


​The real world:

 Looking forward to seeing you here next year! Let’s make it a fun one! James.

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    James Field
    Talvik, Norway


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    The Thursday Murder Club (Thursday Murder Club, #1)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.

    View all my reviews

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