My turn to post yet again, and yet again I have nothing to post about. My writing life has been crazy of late–in the last month alone I’ve done 2 lots of edits and one lot of copy edits on two different books, and I have edits on a third book sitting here that I now have just over a week to do. I also have a book to write that needs to be finished by the end of August. And we won’t even mention the never ending saga of the extension, and the mess my house has been in for the last year and a half (I am TOTALLY over dust!)
Anyway, I thought I’d post a teaser of Who Needs Enemies, the fantasy mystery novel I’m self publishing in September. We’re still working on the cover and edits, but this this scene will give you some idea of what it’s about
The streets were still relatively free of traffic, so I made it to Brunswick in plenty of time–which was just as well, given the serious lack of parking in the area. I eventually found a spot in a side street half a dozen blocks from the café, and walked back, grateful the rain had at least stopped. The wind, however, still held a chill. I zipped up my jacket and shoved my hands in my pockets to keep them warm. Most sirens loved winter–loved the cold, the wet, and the storms–simply because it was the sort of conditions they might find at sea. But even in that, I’d taken more after my elven side. I hated winter.
Noah’s Ark was a small, single fronted café situated in the heart of Lygon Street’s famed restaurant district. It served brilliant coffee as well as a mix of Italian and Greek food at reasonable prices, and, as usual, it was packed. Which is actually why I’d arranged to meet my father here–with all the noise, there was less likelihood of our conversation being overheard.
I ordered a coffee and a large helping of carrot cake, then headed for our table, which was, as I’d requested, tucked into a rear corner well away from the windows. Bramwell wasn’t likely to appreciate the chance of roving reporters seeing us together.
Five o’clock came and went. I ordered another coffee. My watch soon tripped past five-thirty and still he hadn’t turned up. Either Bramwell had decided he didn’t need to explain the photo to me, or he’d resorted to more nefarious methods of checking it out.
I was voting for the latter option.
My phone chose that moment to ring. I half-expected it to be my father, calmly proclaiming he’d either procured and erased the photo, or that he’d rather see it circulated than meet with unwanted offspring.
I was wrong.
It was Guy.
And the ogre sounded madder than hell.
“Harri,” he growled. “You weren’t expecting a couple of trolls to come busting through your door, were you?”
“No.” The fact that they obviously had meant my father had taken option number two rather than explain the existence of the photos to me. I wasn’t surprised, but I was annoyed. “Is everyone there all right?”
“We are. The trolls are a little worse for the wear.”
No surprise there. Ogres don’t take too kindly to people interrupting their football viewing. “What happened?”
“Nothing much. A little undue force was used, but no damage caused–at least to the house. Missed the bloody end of the footy, though.”
And no doubt the trolls had been given an extra punch or two for that thoughtlessness. “Where are they now?”
“Here in the kitchen. Moe and Curly are sitting on them.”
Two of the ogres were called Moe and Curly? He had to be kidding. “Then what the hell is Larry doing?”
“Larry?” Confusion edged Guy’s voice. “Who the hell is Larry?”
Amusement rippled through me, though it did surprise me that an ogre who absolutely loved slapstick comedy did not know who the three stooges were. “Nobody. Forget it.”
“If you mean Shemp, he’s in the lounge relaying the scores.”
I barely restrained a laugh. Someone in the ogre community certainly knew about the stooges, even if Guy didn’t. “Can you keep them there until I get home?”
“Sure, no probs. It’s only a couple of trolls, after all. You’re almost out of beer, by the way.”
Now, that would be a true disaster. “I’ll pick some up on the way home.”
“Thanks. We’d appreciate that.”
and that’s it for now