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Jim Webster, (In On a Chance! )
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Patti (baconater)
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Jul 20, 2015 12:08PM

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Except the mollusc ones..... Nice review there Jim.

Except the mollusc ones..... Nice review there Jim."
yes, I was well chuffed with it :-)

Mwah ha ha ha."
I'm the one that got you the posh frock remember!

When Toulis slowly played the opening chords of their first number, Patti signalled to Lallan, who dimmed the lights around them, leaving one picking out Patti. She shrugged off her coat and stood there in a long silver dress that clung to her figure. Toulis played a few swift chords and ripples of colour and transparency ran across the dress.
There were a few whistles from the darkness, and Patti swirled the dress a little before launching into the song. Haldar watched for a few moments, and decided that things seemed to be going well enough. He got out a comm.
Jeana watched him in disapproving silence. “My Mam always told me it was bad manners to play with one of them when you were with company.”
Haldar tapped the comm with a fore finger. “Just let me change the settings, then I’ll clamp it to the wall. Could you just stand up with your back to the bar, as if you were talking to me? Then I can get it set up.”
Somewhat mystified, Jeana did as she was asked. Hurriedly, Haldar clamped the comm to the wall and tweaked the settings delicately.
“He’s got a shield up to prevent being overheard, but I think I can beat it.” Haldar shifted the settings a little more and screwed something that looked like a pen into the back of the comm. He listened to an earpiece. “I think that’s it. But he’s still on his own. I won’t really know until he has company.” Haldar glanced up at Jeana, “Oh, and you can sit down now.”
Toulis played. His was the lesser part. Bartan carried the tune and Patti covered up their faults. As he played, he watched. He wasn’t sure what he was watching for, but he was sure Wayland Strang, or at least his senior people, would know he was on the Orbital. So far, they hadn’t done anything about it. They might not, but they might put someone to watch him, and he wanted to know who the watchers were. So far he’d seen no one he knew. Then, perhaps two thirds of the way through their set, someone came in he did recognise; Little Kaidar, captain of the Falling Angel. Toulis tried to keep his head down and moved slightly to put Patti between Kaidar and himself. To his relief and surprise, Kaidar bought a drink and went and sat in the same booth as Bilhar Tilwash.
The set continued, and when they finished there was applause, some of it sincere. Patti whispered “Gone.” And Toulis launched into the chords of their encore piece. Bartan joined him and then Patti started singing. No subtle ballad, this was a bar girl’s declaration of war on an uncaring universe. Even as he played, Toulis felt that it was the best thing they’d done. Eventually, as the final strident chords died away, the applause started, and this time it was genuine. Even the bar staff were applauding. Lallan dimmed the main light and quietly the three performers moved away from the stage and stood round the back of the bar. There they passed the next act moving out to the stage. The lead singer put a hand on Patti’s arm. “You sang it, girl, you sang it.” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. The others moved on and Patti turned to Bartan and Toulis. “Thanks, you two. You were good.” Toulis kissed her.
“It was fun. Now I’ve got to go, so make sure you get yourselves away to the ship in time.” He handed his starcaster to Lallan. “Could you look after this for me? It probably won’t help my image where I’m going.” He made his way between the drinkers, who were now sitting or standing in the middle of the floor, watching the next band set up.
“Always have to be the centre of attention, don’t you?” The voice was male, and was larded with contempt.
Patti tensed. Bartan noted she placed her left hand on Lallan’s chest to stop him moving forward. Then she stepped forward, like a dangerous animal preparing to pounce. “Still here are you, Bern?” She spat the words. “You’ve been sitting at this bar so long you’ve worn grooves in it with your elbows.”
Bern expectorated on the floor by her feet. “You always did have a big mouth.”
Patti’s left foot whipped out, hooked round the leg of the stool Bern was sitting on and pulled. Bern crashed heavily to the floor, flat on his back.
“Bern, you’re so full of shit, your eyes are brown.”
“Why you mad bitch, I’ll...”
At this point, Bartan’s foot rested firmly on Bern’s right hand. Bartan bent down and casually pulled a knife from the cross sheath Bern worn above his belt buckle. He glanced at the knife. “Ceramic; interesting, but unwise.” He tossed the knife behind the bar, out of the way. “Were you thinking of saying anything else?” Bartan asked conversationally. He applied a little more pressure to Bern’s right hand.
“No.”
“That didn’t sound convincing,” Bartan said quietly, “are you sure?”
Zeewan appeared at Bartan’s elbow, two burly men next to him.
“You know the rules, Bern,” Zeewan said, his voice quiet. “I don’t like people picking fights in my bar. There are two of my boys here want a word with you, perhaps teach you a few manners outside.”
Bern looked up and paled. Bartan spoke quietly into Zeewan’s ear. “Let’s not have any violence. I’m going down to the surface. Your two friends can escort Bern to the shuttle with me, and I’ll make sure he gets down to the ground. He’ll probably not have the fare back, so he can cool his heels down there and be someone else’s problem.”
Zeewan showed his teeth and reached down into Bern’s shirt and pulled out a wallet. He flicked through it. “He might just have enough for a ticket down.”
He looked down at Bern. “Bon Voyage.”
The two burly men hauled Bern roughly to his feet and led him away. Bartan turned to face Patti. “I’ve got to go now. I’ll see him off the Orbital, if nothing else.”
Patti kissed him. “Thanks, it was good working with you.”
Bartan turned to go, and then turned back. “Just out of interest, who was he?”
“Bern? My ex-husband.”

Just for you I had a think :-)

Oh yes, blog
You wouldn't believe how busy I am at the moment but hopefully you will next month :-)

And I'm too proud to send each blog exactly the same stuff

So far we have
https://dracarya.wordpress.com/2015/0...
http://abluemillionbooks.blogspot.co....
http://thestoryreadingapeblog.com/201...
http://facing50withhumour.com/2015/08...
http://ddchant.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08...

I'm gonna have to send Darren a bill.
Sorry, can't read the romance/adventure one. That font and layout is vile.

Ah, sorry I mistook your comment
Editing is per 1000 words
Writing is per 100
Sorry Darren

Don't think I could bring myself to charge Darren. He may stop writing stuff for me if I did.

http://ignitebooks.blogspot.co.uk/201...
"Benor is a cartographer and he's come to Port Naain to produce a handbook. He makes a home with Tallis, a professional poet and his wife Shena. She's a mud-jobber or as we might say, a beachcomber. Some of her combings include bodies. Everything has a price and families will pay for the privilege of burying their dead and, if possible, finding who caused it. Benor is a natural. He's a nosy person and, with the aid of the wonderful Mutt, a ten year-old wise beyond his years, he sorts out the villains from the corpses. This first short story from The Port Naain Intelligencer bodes well for the rest of the series. A really great Whodunit."
So don't just sit there, get it bought :-)

Firstly I've taken delivery of a box of books. All four fantasy novels are now in paperback.
Probably of more interest to this group, you get a chance to spend an evening with Tallis Steelyard
https://tallissteelyard.wordpress.com...

Nowhere planned yet, talking to Costa in Barrow, and with the Christmas fair season coming up I might do a few of them, see what they're like


"How are you getting on with four articles I sent you?"
"What four articles?"
it turned out she'd sent them to the wrong email address but it hadn't bounced even though it probably doesn't exist
So because it's a living I've been frantically writing about 'bushcraft/woodcraft, knives and boys' toys, and concrete pillboxes etc.

I suspect convincing the editor to send a copy to Baku could be tricky :-)
But then it might be worth a try



The idea with Flotsam or Jetsam is that the series is
'The Port Naain Intelligencer' and will keep the same cover but with a different heading

But the cost must have been a bit excessive
"Mr Guy, who has worked in IT since the 1980s, had found that the strongest 4G signal was on farmland miles away from his house."
Assume only two miles, so at £1 a yard for cable that's £1760 a mile. So he could have spent £4k on cable and burying it.
Seriously, if I had to run two miles of fibre, I could hook it up into the BT cabinet which the local broadband comes from!

I really ought to get him his own author thread
https://tallissteelyard.wordpress.com...

Gods, Memes and Monsters: A 21st Century Bestiary
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Gods-Memes-Mo...
to which I contributed on of the monsters
And also the Gaean Reach Gazetteer
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Gaean-Reach-G...
This is a guide to the universe of Jack Vance that I was asked to write in my freelance capacity.
I'm not sure either of them are on Kindle, but I think the Gazetteer is available as a pdf
For the Gazetteer, just to give you a feel for the tone
Introduction
For your edification and delight I have toiled unceasingly. Only a person of the highest calibre could have hardened his heart as I have and unblushingly allowed so many deadlines to drift past.
Deadlines, editors, Pah! Nailing them upside down to a church door is too good for suchlike. But still, I have laboured. I have worn out a mouse (Plus two sommeliers and a wandering flagellant), I have peered at maps, faded and stained by the passing of the decades, I have squinted under strange lights and discoursed with people whose skin has been tanned by fiercer suns.
And I have made a pile of all I have found.
Some may call me capricious. Indeed the word whimsical has even been used. Beware of any who use such words, they tend to sip small beer from small glasses and pay poorly, pushing thin piles of script across the table, when a true aficionado would shower you with hard currency, suitcases full of it, used notes, non-sequential, in refreshingly large denominations.
There, I have spoken. Read on, but at your peril, lest you glimpse a universe so rich that mere reality seems bland and inconsequential.

I like it, I've already been paid :-)

Jim, have you heard of Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore?
I think it's a novel you'd really enjoy.
Don't know why I bother recommending novels to you...

I've not heard of the book I must admit, will now wait for the dust to settle.
But if it's all about the joys of google I'm not tempted.
But just picked up The Generalship Of Alexander The Great in paperback for pence


I wonder how old the author is?
Books mentioned in this topic
In On a Chance (other topics)Justice 4.1 (other topics)
Law 3.3 (other topics)
Plague 1.4 (other topics)
War 2.2 (other topics)
More...