Make sure to put aside time for the next few days to read each and every chapter of my latest story East Wind a love story with a twist. The twist involves my hero Arvo encountering… Sorry you’ll have to find out for yourselves.
Your adventure begins at 1am Monday with Chapter One. Then each succeeding second day until the final chapter in a few days time.
DON’T FORGET TO COMMENT AFTER EACH CHAPTER. Your responses will decide whether or not I go ahead and publish it on Amazon!
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In the failing light of early evening, Nick and Hakan divided the group into two teams. Nick would take Victor and Thomaso with him through the Incan temple’s main entrance, down to the ancient monument below, while Hakan aided by Miles, Cristo, Kolya and David, would carefully search the exterior of the building, looking for alternative entrances. Ricardo joined Ithis some distance away on the old shoreline. She now firmly believed that should she even attempt to enter the temple above the other building, all would be lost. She would see everything she needed to see through her beloved surface-dweller’s eyes and his unconscious thoughts, as she tuned into his mind while he carefully began to explore the labyrinth of tunnels. Nick had chosen Victor for his immense strength, and Thomaso, for his unparalleled knowledge of his Incan forbears’ glyph style writing…
I heard only his name, those days in Iran when I have been studying arts and inner architecture. We had to learn colours and how to work with them. I have known him and his masterworks truly here in Germany.
Gustav Klimt In Brief
To understand the role of Gustav Klimt artwork in Vienna, take a brief look at the artist’s life: Gustav Klimt (1862 to 1918) is one of Europe’s most famous Jugendstil (Art Nouveau) painters and incorporates the Austrian style of Art Nouveau (Jugendstil). As such, he has become one of the most popular representatives of Vienna art. At the end of the 19th century, Klimt co-founded the artists’ group Wiener Secession, a rebel group of young artists who…
Their long, often dangerous, sea journey aboard the old freighter through the Mediterranean and beyond, negotiating the increasingly violent waters of the Atlantic Ocean, constantly in a frenzy caused by the massive increase in storms as the world’s weather patterns changed, inevitably became a race against the Solar System’s relentless enemy ‘time’ and the end of everything mankind held dear. The world was experiencing a dramatic increase in equally disastrous natural events like the swarms of tsunamis’ being generated almost continually by a marked increase in geological activity in the world’s curst. Long dormant volcanoes erupted back to life after many centuries of fitful sleep, enveloping large populated areas with a mixture of their boiling pyroclastic clouds and the unforgiving march of new lava flows, forever burying whole towns and cities. Add one further irrefutable fact to this picture of total worldwide destruction, that of…
I must have left the physical plane for about six months when I found myself at the back of a forum at a session called “How to get your next life right” I turned round to this entity beside me and asked “Who were you in your last life?” and they replied, “Margaret Cotton. I worked as a cleaner for most of it and had two husbands, neither of whom I’ve seen up here yet. In the life before that I was Winston Churchhill: apparently I was meant to be working on my humility in my last life!”
“How did that work out?” I asked and she said “My second husband was the spouse of a client, wealthy beyond my wildest dreams and he took me to levels of unmatchable luxury in return for services we are not allowed to discuss here: his wife had no imagination apparently. That’s her…
At long last I’m at the stage where having written a story, I’m now editing it for the final time. I will be publishing East Wind soon, but not in the usual way. Instead I will be publishing it here on my blog first. Depending on how well you receive it, will determine whether or not I publish it on Amazon as an ebook, just like every other book I’ve written over the past twenty-six years, or hang up my metaphoric typewriter.
East Wind’s fate is entirely in your hands – not mine. Aways remember that!
East Wind is a short, often intense love story with a twist, involving the love that dare not speak its name!
My main character Olav Knudsen is a Norwegian who travels the world aboard his first love East Wind, a truly beautiful lady built in 1905 (see the picture above). As the story unfolds Olav, or Bill as he is generally known meets and falls in love with two women, He marries one and has a daughter by her who they name after her mother and his. All to soon tragedy strikes.
But for Bill an even more intense love embraces him when he meets his true soul-mate, in the form of the statuesque transgender woman, flaxen haired Katya. Together with his daughter and Katya, not forgetting his friends Miki and Buppha, they set off aboard East Wind. The rest you will have to find out for yourselves as the story unfolds with each successive chapter.
I’ve drawn on my own experience when I was indeed fortunate that for an all too brief eighteen months I met and fell in love with my soul-mate Mae, fifty-five years ago. Both her and our four month old son John were taken away from me by an act of war back then in South East Asia. Therefore I’ve included elements of my own experience in this tender love story. For everyone, even the most sceptical of you, believe that there is a soul-mate for each of us. Bill found his. You can find yours…
I’ll be publishing the first chapter very soon, Watch out for it folks, and please, please don’t just click ‘like’ – read each and every chapter and let me know via your comments what you think. Remember this beautiful tale comes from my heart as a gift to all of you…
PSDon’t just like it -READ IT AND LEAVE A COMMENT!
Is this a tennis ball I see before me,
The curve toward my teeth? Come, let me catch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, gorgeous vision, chewable
And catchable in flight? or art thou but
A figment of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from a ball-obsessed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as chaseable
As any that she throws.
Thou marshall’st me the way that I will run;
And such a plaything I am keen to chase.
Mine eyes may play the fool but other senses,
Are better than the rest; I smell thee still,
And on thy surface, green and pristine fluff,
Which will not be so long… (*Editor’s note… my profound apologies, on Ani’s behalf, to William Shakespeare and Macbeth…)
She bribed me.
About time too, I haven’t had a new ball in ages...
With his dig site now in complete ruins and his career forgotten for the moment, Hakan willingly joined Nick’s quest. After all, as he said later with a good natured grin on his face at Nick’s expense, “You definitely needed a qualified field archaeologist on the team for the last two sites. Theoretical archaeology is all fine and well in the classroom my, or in some dusty research library my friend, but is of little or no practical use in the field, now is it? ”
The agonizingly slow trip south by sea, aboard yet another ancient rusting coastal freighter, which Hakan had ‘borrowed’, took nearly two weeks. He had searched among the many ships laying at anchor, in the narrow ,and extremely busy straits, which divide ancient Istanbul on the shores of mainland Europe, from the rest of Turkey and Asia…
There’s a huge debate in the writing community whether or not having a very detailed plot outline is invaluable or a waste of time. Does it really make a book better? There’s a new story idea I’ve been toying around with and so I’d considered plotting out my next manuscript.
With my last one, I sort of had to do a super light outline because I had multiple POVs and a dual timeline. But it was the second book in a duology, and so I already knew the characters. It’s a lot different if you’re writing out a series and you already know the characters, the storyline, and kind of know what he/she would do next. It’s a lot harder to start from scratch when you are simply going off of a brand new idea that you haven’t quite fleshed out.
Some writers are detailed plotters and prefer it this…
Five weeks after they had left Rize on Turkey’s northern coast, the weary and dusty party finally saw their goal in the distance. Göbekli Tepe sits at the highest point of an elongated mountain ridge, fifteen kilometres northeast of Sanhurfa in south-eastern Turkey. To this day it is still the oldest known human place of worship yet discovered.
From their hideout across the valley, they would wait until Hakan’s workforce had left for the day, before announcing their presence. Through his binoculars, Nick could see his old friend directing the dig’s operation from his command centre beneath a simple open sided tent at the centre of the excavation. Hakan sat on a canvas camp stool at his folding table under the canopy of his tent, pitched on one of the polished limestone floors at the monument’s centre. As dusk fell, he was busy…
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