So ... I was rather forcibly
reminded that ‘horror’ is the first listed requirement, since we had several
gagging-inducing examples including walking cadavers, several gruesome uses of
eyeballs, a naked bird, alien invaders and an ancient paedophile. All superbly
and vividly described and delivered.
In the end – and it took a while – John’s combination of two of the
horrors in ‘Can birds smile?’ emerged the winner, but not, I fear, without
trampling one or three other contenders underfoot.
Words
for next week: eighteen procrastinate
sweetheart
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday 26th
September,
words posted Friday 27th
Also, because I promised to let you know, 'Commission & omission' is now available from Blurb in either print or pdf. Go to my blog, lines of communication, and click on the double spread cover on top left-hand side for more details. Pettinger is not mentioned but he's definitely there, on the first page of the preview.
More than a wee dram
ReplyDeleteHighland Park’s Viking Pride single malt matures for eighteen years in sherry seasoned European oak casks, its combined hints of cherries. dark chocolate, toffee, marzipan and heather honey, tinged with aromatic peat smoke, full justification for such procrastination.
The same could not be said for what was found in the twenty-fifth barrel, upon investigation as to why the yield was not as expected.
Not so much a Viking bride as the one-time sweetheart of Thorfin Magnusson, who’d long since left the islands. Singing.
Sandra, this story is really good, but never mind that: I just went to your blog to check out Commission and Omission, (is DI Luke Darbyshere based from Pettinger?). Man, I never knew you did so much stuff. I love your drawings (especially Temptation). And how many novels,four? Busy girl, you.
DeleteThanks John. First, Luke Darbyshere is not Pettinger. Luke arrived on the scene back in ~2009, Pettinger in 2012 in a short story done for a writers retreat, but Com & Om, which also started as a short story, needed another detective and Pettinger fit the bill (and deserved a longer outing.) I've a first draft of book four in this series and snippets for book 5.
DeleteBut sorry, I've not a clue which drawing you refer to ...
Ah ... found it. It's a digital layering of photo and print I think.
DeleteThe malt sounds delicious ... at least it did until the body was found in the barrel. Curious if Thorfin has already skipped town.
DeleteOh my goodness, does that malt sound delicious. And as for Thorfin, I imagine there are worse ways to go. Many congratulations on the book, Sandra...you talented girl, you...!!!
Deletecongrats on the book, Sandra, but leave the malt where it is - neither daughter or I drink at all, both having had experience of alcoholics. Her partner is a serious alcoholic, everything revolves around drink, how soon he can finish work, how many pints, when he can drive in the morning... and what he does when getting up in the night after a binge drinking session, everything from turning the gas on to trying to lever the light switch off the wall. So, drink, of any kind. no!
DeleteDoesn't stop me appreciating this story!
Congratulations, John. Nicely done and very well-deserved...but don't go strutting like a peacock now, even though you're entitled to do so...!!!
ReplyDeletebrilliant news, John, you are an ongoing star here!
DeleteYour entry was a superb choice, John. Congrats!
ReplyDeleteLady’s Man
ReplyDeleteDimitri was looking to carve the eighteenth notch onto his bedpost when procrastination set in. Should he have counted the family basset hound and the peanut butter jar? And now that he thought about it, the brassiere model on page 102 of the Sears Catalog likely shouldn’t have counted either. Definitely nix the fantasy moment involving his aunt bending over in cargo shorts.
Perhaps his dream of finding a sweetheart was fruitless. Maybe true intimacy would forever elude him. And then the Amazon van arrived. The blowup doll was even more lifelike than he could have imagined.
Such a creepy loser this Dimitri - nind-bogglingly squirm inducing for sure.
DeleteUuuugh. Definitely cringe-inducing, and excellent title as it took on a different meaning towards the end.
DeleteThat Dimitri, as you so expertly describe, has some sexual appetite John. I don't think the blow-up doll will satisfy it.
DeleteWhenever there's a mention of a blowup doll, my mind automatically links to that "Fools and Horses" episode, which would mean nothing to anyone who hasn't seen the series. Regardless, this was presented with your usual flair, John. Nobody does it quite like you.
DeleteGreat piece, John, very funny in many ways, sort of sick humour which is much the way I feel sometimes!!
DeleteChange of focus [346]
ReplyDeletePettinger’s strangulated cautioning of his umbrella-wielding assailant was lost beneath the rumble of an eighteen-stone stallholder.
‘Sweetheart, this man bovvering you?’
With difficulty, using the lamppost for support, Pettinger hauled himself upright. ‘You’ve got it arse over bollocking foot –‘
‘Oi! Less of the bloody language mate! There’s ladies present –‘
Resisting the obvious, ‘This lady prevented an arrest –‘
‘Of a mother and baby –‘
‘– baby lying on a mattress stuffed with heroin. She likely heading for the nearest school to sell it –‘
Stallholder took off at speed of light, roaring. ‘Not to my kids, she ain’t!’
I enjoyed the fast pace of this piece from Pettinger's rise to the accusation to Stallholder sprinting away.
DeleteAlso, congrats on the book release! :)
Good to see stallholder taking positive action. I was afraid Pettinger was going to get walloped again.
DeleteYou do not want to mess with an irate stallholder. That image of Pettinger clinging to the lamppost brought on a hearty chuckle. Love him to death, but it is nice to see him come a cropper at times.
Deleteoh great instalment, this!
DeleteHAPPY ANNIVERSARY
ReplyDeleteHesmeth Fent gently kissed his wife’s lips, cheeks and forehead then looked lovingly into her eyes. “Eighteen years today, Sweetheart. Yes, it’s been you and me that long. And it’s funny now thinking of how you procrastinated about marrying me. But I can’t tell you how happy I am that everything worked out.
“I have your gift… the yellow roses you love. Eighteen of them this year. One for each year we’ve been together.”
Hesmeth placed his wife’s head back into the chest freezer and placed the flowers next to it. “Until next year, Darling.”
Smiling, he closed the lid.
First, awesome name and I love the yellow roses. For some reason it made the scene incredibly vivid in my mind, especially when Hesmeth places the head in the freezer. Ah!
DeleteI'm obviously getting used to your whipping the rug out from beneath my feet - just knew this would end nastily, despite the yellow roses. Such a name! and neatly done.
DeleteWith a name like Hesment Fent, it's no wonder we had this outcome. Excellent horror elements in this, Jim. Very enjoyable.
DeleteThis was horror at its very best. The stuff of "Twilight Zone" and that old Alfred Hitchcock series.
Deletedefinitely overtones of Alfred Hitchcock in this one! Great stuff.
DeleteStones & Whispers [Shepherdess #9]
ReplyDeleteKennalyn sighed dramatically and leaned back on her chaise, blue-lined eyes flicking from Haera’s stony expression to the confused face of Dathasha. “You could have at least brought the blond one, sweetheart. Been a while since I’ve tasted a Northerner.”
“Caeradin?” Dathasha asked, brows lifting. “But he’s—”
“Not why we’re here, Ken.” Haera, holding tight to Moses, gestured at a heavily painted wardrobe against the far wall. “The Soulstones, still have them?”
“All eighteen.” Kennalyn grimaced. “Finally taking them off my hands? Don’t procrastinate then; damn things have been whispering every night.” Her eyes sharpened. “It’s happening, then?”
“It’s begun.”
Episodes 1-9 can be read here on my blog.
You are leading us through a very interesting and entertaining tale, Holly. Great first line!
DeleteI didn't know northerners tasted any differently, but perhaps so. This worked well for moving us forward with the story and also leaving some intrigue to keep us wanting more. What more could a storyteller accomplish? Nice, Holly.
DeleteScene set and intrigue and action promised. Good stuff.
DeleteOooohhh. Dun-Dun-Dun. Is this filled with atmospheric promise or what?
Deletenortheners talk in a different way, use words southerners don't, talk about 'where we come from' so we know they're secretly aliens... liked this a lot, Holly!
DeleteThank you everyone!
DeleteQuestion time [Threshold 270]
ReplyDeleteIf anyone more appreciated the benefits of procrastination than Raven I’d yet to meet them. Not that, in my not-yet-eighteen years I hadn’t sampled – and benefitted from – a few. At some point in our leisurely conjoining the water ceased to flow. Damp-skinned, we made it to the bed. Began again.
Delay this time signalled by his putting one warning hand on my head. The other reached for the quilt and pulled it up to cover us. Regarding the ceiling, in a murmur whose vibrations– an oncoming summer storm – threatened, he said, ‘Sweetheart, does that look like a camera to you?’
Ooh, a possible perverted spy in the woodwork. It's good to confirm the story takes place in somewhat modern times, with the camera and all. Often, the scene indicate olden times. It's nice to have them back to their wily ways.
DeleteLike John, I always imagine this tale taking place in a world of another time and place. The mention of a camera changes the entire perspective. Almost forgot to mention that I just adore Raven's protectiveness of ... maybe we'll know her name one day?
DeleteYour uncertainty as to when this is taking place echos mine. Is primarily post-apocalyptic, the world having lost much of its technological structure and know-how.
DeleteBut then you can't be certain it is a camera Raven thinks he's seen, can you?
my current novel is set in 2278 but there is no internet, no radio emissions, no nothing so I can buy this being post-apocalyptic, it works well ordinarily but knowing this makes it all crystal clear. And a good read.
DeleteLoved the phrase 'a murmur whose vibrations– an oncoming summer storm – threatened'. I was also surprised by the camera and curious what it is, if not that.
DeleteDawn of the Amsterdamned (Part 2)
ReplyDeleteWe escaped Amsterdam in a tourist bus. Eighteen of us. There was a CD in the CD player. Sweetheart of the Rodeo. We listened, sharing out the last of the stroopwaffles. After much procrastination we headed north for Groningen.
To the side of the road evidence of resistance. Three cadavers lashed to the sails of a windmill, eerily revolving.
Our tally of weapons was dire. The dial on the petrol gage dropped lower. Gram Parsons sang of tall pines in North Carolina. In the pink acres of the tulip fields herds of festering corpses assembled.
and I'm avid for the next chapter.
DeleteSO well set up, described and tormenting - I'm hooked.
A gruesomely vivid tale, David. I'd hate to be counting the corpses. Well done, as always!
DeleteWhat an image the rotating corpses conjured. Nicely done, David.
DeleteCadavers lashed to a windmill. Wonder what Don Quixote would have made of that picture. Beautiful final line and nice nod to Gram Parsons.
Deleteeerie images and vivid thoughts combining here. Superb writing.
DeleteExcellent set up with striking imagery like the cadavers on the windmill and the corpses in the 'pink acres of the tulip fields.' Holding my breath until part 3!
DeleteTill The Cows Come Home
ReplyDeleteHad it really been eighteen years? She'd procrastinated about so many things, wishing and hoping for her son to return. Selling the farm and moving away, for instance. But what if she were gone when he eventually arrived home? How would he find her after eighteen years?
She remembered well the morning he'd left.
"Be careful, sweetheart," she'd called, waving until he was out of sight.
But Jack never had clambered back down that beanstalk.
Oh ... so, so good.
DeleteI would have never guessed THAT Jack to be the subject in the last line, Patricia. A very nicely crafted tale.
DeleteBravo, Patricia. As good an alternate ending as can be had for this story. I'm assuming Jack didn't end up chopping down the beanstalk with the giant on it. The mother would certainly recall that.
Deleteabsolutely love these twists on the old tales!
DeleteFun! Jack's story has now become more real in my mind, though I wonder what Jack is up to now.
DeleteLady’s Man 2
ReplyDeleteDimitri veered his eighteen wheeler down the Ventura Highway. He drove with a vengeance, the Acme Blowup Doll factory in the distance. The speedometer pegged as he located the front office and zeroed in.
His sweetheart had procrastinated at first, seemingly happy to sit open-mouthed on his bed. When Dimitri became more assertive, the damn thing sprung a leak and sailed about the room leaving Dimitri with a raging heart that matched his unmentionable condition below.
With a tank-trailer full of liquid fertilizer, Dimitri plowed into the glassed office, a sardonic smile on his sweating face.
I had a feeling Dimitri wouldn't be pleased with his purchase but no idea as the the enormity of his wrath. Wow!
DeleteI'm intrigued how she's a sweetheart at the beginning of a sentence and
Deletea damn thing by the end of it. Can't say I regret Dmitri's demise.
What an absolutely magnificent continuation. There will be more...won't there?
Deleteoh yes, what a way to take revenge!
DeleteDoesn't sound like Dimitri is going to escape this unscathed unless he too will sail out of danger. I admit, that imagery of the flying blowup doll is going to stick in my brain. I'm still laughing. :)
DeleteHere Comes The Bride
ReplyDeleteEighteen times a bridesmaid. Eighteen times, dressed in some hideous gown, Penelope had followed a friend down the aisle while she'd never even had a sweetheart to call her own. This situation was getting old...so was Penelope!
No more procrastination. She would take fate into her own hands. No nineteenth walk of shame for Penelope.
She would worry about disposal of the body later. For now, she was radiant beneath the heavy veil obscuring her features and the groom would never realize the old switcheroo until it was too late and they were well and truly married.
The old switcheroo... nice. I secretly hope she is able to keep the veil on for a while. I'm interested in hearing about the honeymoon.
DeleteYou can't blame Penelope for her frustration, but talk about taking desperate steps! I'd love to be a fly on the wall when the veil comes off.
DeleteSuch desperation for that ceremony, that walk up the aisle!!
Deletesome people have to be married at any cost, don't they??? love this!
DeleteNot sure she'll enjoy the final walk she'll end up on once the body is discovered!
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (65)
ReplyDeleteGot me some pretty things! Two vintage chests of drawers, one’s sold already, fine pewter jug, pretty box and a very unusual inkwell, shaped like a lady holding a tray of bowls. Her head tilts back for the ink… now there’s a horror idea if ever there was one! Give me eighteen more ideas like that and I’ll have another book of horror stories, if I could only stop procrastinating… meantime Shaun is in and out, bailing out his boat among other things. I hear ‘See you later, sweetheart!’ and he’s gone. The future is brighter, though, can’t be bad.
As soon as you said, 'Got me some pretty things,' I knew your tale would be contain good news. I'd read your inkwell story when you get it written, don't forget to do it.
DeleteThat inkwell sounds very interesting and potentially horrifying. I'm curious what its history is?
DeleteJohn, the way it's going, there will be no inkwell story, it's all I can do to write a tiny bit of the book each night... which is stupid when I know it's money in the bank, to quote the publisher...
DeleteHolly, no history we can discover, she came in with a batch of other things. It's rare for customers to tell us where something originated from, could have been in the family for years and no one knowing where or why. She sold yesterday, someone who visits a lot but rarely buys anything said he couldn't resist owning her. Today's been slow but that's given us a chance to shift furniture around, get another lamp going - the evenings are drawing in fast ad I want the shop to be a blaze of light in the dark winter days. Now, can I get any work done tonight on the book??? It's a big problem, starting something and then leaving it for possibly ten years and expecting to pick it up and run with it. Doesn't work like that.. not for me, anyway. I also need to work on the channelled Politicians book, not sure if the spirits are tired of Brexit but they've not been working with me for some time, now they're back, two came yesterday and I'm ready for another visit tonight. It makes life interesting...
This was a lovely episode, full of delightful images and, as always, magnificent incorporation of the prompt words.
DeleteIt appears that things are looking up at the shop, Patricia. Let's hope the good run continues.
DeleteYou had me at 'fine pewter jug'.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (124)
ReplyDeleteHow many important pieces of legislation have been held back through Parliament’s halt? Eighteen or more, at a guess. A criminal act in some ways but the PM sought to procrastinate and show his power. I fear his actions may have made things worse and it may be a case of ‘goodnight sweetheart’ (if I might be crass enough to use an old movie reference here…) The business of Parliament needs to be brought back on course so much needed legislation is brought to the notice of the House, dealt with and passed into law would be a worthy outcome.
Dang, the world is filled with political strife these days. We're going through it over here as well.
DeleteIt does seem to be coming apart everywhere you look, though I suppose it was only a matter of time.
DeleteI have just about given up on trying to fathom politics on any level. I hear there is possibly a potential impeachment on the far horizon....one can only hope!
DeleteLady’s Man, Conclusion
ReplyDeleteDimitri sat dazed in the cab of his eighteen wheeler, broken glass and thick dust abound. Why hadn’t the fertilizer ignited? He was glad now it hadn’t, though he was likely in a fix. He forced open the truck door and limped deeper into the building. A receptionist stood behind a desk, counting bodies around her, the phones ringing relentlessly.
“Hello there, sweetheart,” Dimitri said, eyebrows raised.
She procrastinated but a moment before walking around the desk and kicking him in the testicles with a pointed shoe.
Dimitri was still writhing on the floor as the police cars began to arrive.
He did survive! Must be part cockroach. :) I like the receptionist and love 'She procrastinated but a moment before walking around the desk....'
DeleteStretching out the pain and punishment ... good.
Deleteoh nice one, John!
DeleteWhat an absolutely awesome conclusion. Come to think of it, could it have ended any other way? What a talent to create a beginning, middle and end in the same week while using the prompt words in each one. Applause!!!! Applause!!!!
DeleteSeem to have run out of both time and inspiration, so no serial continuations this week. Hopefully this is nothing but a temporary lapse. :(
ReplyDelete