Three hoodies save the world

Constant moaning and whinging about everything

Archive for the month “October, 2016”

Very Victorian Halloween Problems

Imagine Classic Literary Characters living in the Modern World. Read Jane Eyre Gets Real, a Novel by Annabelle Troy, available on Amazon!

The witching season is upon us. Mr. Darcy, Sherlock Holmes, Dorian Gray and the other characters in Jane Eyre Gets Real by Annabelle Troy present this to you with their compliments:

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenGhosts were really aggressive back then

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenYou Only Have Enough Crumpets For Three But Uninvited Guests Keep Dropping By

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenAll You Want Is A Nice Family Photo But Mum Keeps Being Difficult

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenStop Trying to Make “How Hallow’eeny” Happen, It’s Not Going to Happen

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenStiff Competition for Miss Witch USA

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenYour Wife Is Dead Yet She Still Insists On Playing The Piano

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenEmail Hasn’t Been Invented So You Receive All Messages Via Ghoul

Image result for victorian halloween postcardsEven Less Reliable Than Online Dating

Image result for pictures of victorians at halloweenPlease Write Your Own Caption & Let Us Know What You Come Up With!

Happy Halloween

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They’re a little late.

With November just a couple of days away I’m beginning to think that my front garden has a micro climate. These just came out in the last two days. They won’t last long, since the clocks go back tonight plunging us into permanent darkness, but they’re still a nice sight.

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I’m caught in a bit of a dilemma, a dilemma-ette if you like.
One hundred pages into my new novel and I’ve just thought of something else, a genre I’ve never tried before. I can see it roiling about in my foetid brain. I think I’ll give it a go, but I’m not doing what I did last time and try to write three novels at the same time. It nearly wore what passes for my brain into a charred lump.

Even the trees aren’t safe.

After spending hours driving around London today, I finally found a parking space despite one taxi driver offering to rip out my lungs, almost being beheaded by a cyclist carrying something very sharp, and walking away from someone bartering with me as to which organ he was going to remove.
But it seems that not only the people in this sometimes hostile city catch all the bile. Not even the shrubbery is spared their vitriol.

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Poor little fellow. I’m surprised it managed to grow at all breathing in the vile brew that passes for air in this place.

It took a while but I’ve finally caught on.

Every day for the past few weeks I’ve come home from work to find the TV on and my wife and (alleged) daughter glued to programmes about cute puppies.
Not content with four mangy horses, two cats and several million fleas, she now wants a dog!
But not just any dog. “Oh, why not, dad?” she pleaded with me last evening for the eighty eighth time.
Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs. Specifically I love Belgian Shepherds. They’re less in-bred than Alsatians and German Shepherds and subsequently stronger. Unfortunately our present house is so small, that anything larger than a gnat would concuss itself if it turned around too quickly.
But, and it’s a big BUT – I am not getting one of these.
I don’t even know what it is. And it’s giving me exactly the same grimace of longing as my daughter.

boo-pomeranian-wallpaper

I might be persuaded to curry it and enjoy it with a bottle of claret, but what little street cred I still retain isn’t going to be destroyed by getting whatever that is.

No. And that’s my final word.

Apparently stage two of the inducement will begin tonight. If you don’t hear from me for a while it’ll be because I’m residing at Her Majesty’s pleasure in Dartmoor or somewhere equally inhospitable for doing something really bad. Mind you, considering the alternative, breaking a few rocks for my daily bread almost seems like an attractive deal.

Apparently it wasn’t mites.

My daughter’s moggies haven’t got mites. Great!
They’ve got something even worse. My ankles look like a battlefield but that’s fine, sayeth the vet, because they only have fleas. But before I could sigh in relief, she continued. Not only do they have fleas but apparently a new super duper- utterly-resistant- to-anything-made-by man kind. After hoovering the entire house twenty times, each time interspersed with spraying some kind of liquid that cost almost as much as the the Harley I’ve always wanted, we had to hoover and spray it again.
If this hasn’t killed the little sods I’ve come up with a secondary use for the now empty and ludicrously expensive aerosol. I’ll beat the monsters to death.
They must have caught the glint in my eye or heard the growl because they haven’t come home since yesterday.

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Why can’t I have a dog?

Foster an Author Day 3!

Amaranthine by Joleene Naylor

14462736_10210505321459450_1957855329329256503_nToday my foster blogger is featuring an excerpt of Shades of Gray! Stop in and check it out. If you’ve read the book, was it the excerpt you’d have picked? And if you haven’t, does it make you want to?

See you there!

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Just another day

The horse has an ulcer.
Harley the cat came home infected with Mites and now we’re all bitten.
Sassy (the other cat) tried to bite my face off.
I nearly went under a truck on my motorbike today.
The weather’s rubbish.
I’m bored.

Apart from that everything’s fine. Oh, except that my darling daughter wants (another) five hundred quid. I didn’t bother to ask what it was for this time. I just gave that much last month, and the last, and the last. And if she tells me that I hate her and wish she were dead once more time, there’s going to be serious trouble. Oh, yes, she wants me to knock up (her words) a new banner for her on-line business. In 3D of course but it should only take a few minutes. It’s my own fault for telling her that she couldn’t borrow someone else’s as they might get a little touchy.
And just to squeeze that little bit more money out of me the vet maintains that both cats might have different types of mite, meaning that I have to take both of them for biopsies of their scabs, which will of course mean that I have to pay twice.
I seem to remember the days when everything went smoothly, or that might just have been a dream I once had.

#TeamVampire Takes Over!

Amaranthine by Joleene Naylor

This week, the Book Born group is at war! Four paranormal kingdoms wage war to be the rulers of the land – but who will win? That’s up to you! Check out Book Born each day to see what each team comes up with, then vote at the end of the week for which team you liked best!

Today it’s #TeamVampire’s turn, so come on down to Book Born and see what fun we have planned.

Why are vampires the best?

vamps

(Note: Since Vampires don’t like the sunlight, we won’t be officially starting our takeover until 4:30 PM...But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to see! Come check it out! And be there tonight to play games, win prizes, and chat with vampire authors!)

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How dare they!

There was a documentary on TV tonight about cryptids. The nerve of them. As far as I know I’m the only novelist to include them in my books. Now I suppose everyone will be doing it.
I’ll just have to do it better.
I’m on book four of Kongomato. I’d better vamp up the violence.
No problemmo.

.progeny10cs

Melancholy Autumn

Suddenly they all died. The end.

The change in weather’s had a wonderful effect on my imagination. Here for you, then, is an almost-sonnet (almost because the rhyme scheme isn’t quite right and my head hurts too much to make it work) that I hope you’ll enjoy.

IMG_20140305_084531Where once the summer breeze
Blew soft and sweet,
Now the winter wind
Whips leaves around my feet.

Where once the summer sun
Shone brightly in the sky,
Now the winter clouds
Freeze the tears within my eye.

Where once the summer lark
Sang sweetly in my ear,
Now the winter crow
Screams at me in fear.

Lovely summer, why must you go,
And leave me frozen in the snow?

(c) 2016. All rights reserved.

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