This is another Maisie Kaywood romp.
It introduces David Abernethy (aka Biscuit aka The Ferret) and other members of Maisie’s XCD Team.
It is set in Scotland, near Aberdeen.
Give it a try for a few pages, you my get hooked!
Click here to download the PDF.
This is a revised version of the original Trumped story.
My apologies. There was a silly typo on page 40, now corrected.
Thank you Margery of the Choir!
Louisa at our Writers Circus set us the challenge of “Betrayal”.
The idea of setting this story against a background of Greyhound Racing came at once. My Dad was a weekend gambler, not addicted, but he did enjoy Friday nights at Shawfield Stadium, which still exists as a Greyhound Racing venue.
The ambiance I am trying for is post-war Glasgow, seeking to contrast the gulf between the lives of rich (living in the grand mansions of Pollokshields) and poor (living in the Oatlands district, where my Dad was born).
There is a possible Part Two to this story, competing in my head with other imperatives.
Click here to download the PDF.
This novella is rooted in the experience of someone who lives nearby.
It is a tale of an ‘ordinary’ woman who inherits great wealth under tragic circumstances, which did happen. (Is there such a thing as an ‘ordinary’ person?)
What I have written is an invention, a fictionalised version of events as they might have unfolded.
Once started, this story took hold of me for a few months.
Margaret got fed up with reading and re-reading it and it and eventually refused to continue.
Fortunately my friend Kareth from the Writers’ Circus, who is a brilliant published Editor, came to my rescue.
Kareth wanted me to ‘neutralise’ the story by removing the names of local businesses, but me, being the usual stubborn me, refused so to do.
Give it a couple of pages, it might grow on you.
Click here to download the PDF.
Louisa at our Writers Circus set us the challenge of “Betrayal”.
The idea of setting this story against a background of Greyhound Racing came at once. My Dad was a weekend gambler, not addicted but he did enjoy Friday nights at Shawfield Stadium, which still exists as a Greyhound Racing venue.
The ambiance I am trying for is post-war Glasgow, seeking to contrast the gulf between the lives of rich (living in the grand mansions of Pollokshields) and poor (living in the Oatlands district, where my Dad was born).
There is a possible Part Two to this story, competing in my head with other imperatives.
Click here to download the PDF.