Wednesday 3 October 2012

Encouraging Feeback

I have been brave and given my nearly finished novel 'Just and Equitable' to someone to read. I have to say I have been encouraged by the initial feedback, which was laughter and praise for the style of writing, the names of the characters and the story in general.

It is great to receive positive feedback with appropriate critical comments thrown in.

I decided to give you all a taste of the first chapter of Just and Equitable, to wet your appetite. It continues from the previous opening paragraphs offered in an earlier post.

Just and Equitable

Chapter 1 continued


Get away and get away quickly, something inside him shouted, having momentarily stopped halfway down the stairs of the front path and fought a temptation to go back, throttle Fred and throw him over the balcony into the harbour begging for mercy, with Melanie crying in the back ground, begging forgiveness, running up to him in her naked state to wrap her arms around him and tell him she had been forced by into bed by the brute and ask him why had he not come home sooner. Melvin needed no more encouragement and continued to his ute like a startled rabbit.  

 The beeping of a car horn made Melvin’s head snap up and come out of his trance like state. Some bloke driving a BMW was showing him the finger mouthing “watch where you’re going dickhead”. Fozzy jumped clear of the Bemeer and in doing so slammed his fist onto the back of the car, thinking another bloody tourist come for a gawk, before he took three final steps to reach his car. Once in it, he floored it to get away. With a grunting clutch not accustomed to such rough treatment Fozzy sped passed the Bemeer, which had pulled over just ahead of his house. At the end of the street Fozzy turned left. A barrage of abuse came his way with the screeching tyres of a delivery van. The driver beeped the horn, yelling “Fucking asshole, watch where you’re going….,” and showed him the finger. Fozzy neither apologised nor gave the matter a second thought. He had other things on his mind. He replayed the day’s events as he sped away from Nearcontent to head into the city.   


At six that morning Fozzy had, like so many other mornings, a fight with his alarm clock. With it being week three of a sex draught he had high hopes for the day.
“Fucking thing,” he muttered under his breath. The dam thing had been a Christmas present from Melanie, who did not believe in letting nature wake you. No, Melanie had firm rules about what time he should get up, be at work and come home. When he had argued that for years he had done just fine letting nature wake him Melanie had dropped the subject, for a while, until Christmas and then bang she had pounced like a preying animal waiting for its victim. When he opened his present he nearly dropped it. It was a cicada the size of a wine bottle with bloodshot red eyes and large antennas. One of its antennas served as the snooze button with the off button being underneath its body, conveniently hidden to make it difficult to find whilst in a half sleep half awake state. To turn it off you had to pick it up turn it over and find the little button. Whilst this was happening, the quiet chirping grew louder and louder and louder until it became unbearable. And by that time you were no longer in the mood for a snooze, nor were you still lying down. If you pressed the snooze button things were no better, with reprieve from the chirping lasting less than a minute before it started again and again with ever increasing volume, which meant the only successful way to turn it off was to get up and do so.
“See darling,” Melanie had purred. “Now you have nature to wake you.” She had kissed him and the sex draught of six weeks back then had been broken. All was forgiven, for a while.
Despite his dislike of the thing, he did not dare get rid of it. If there was one thing he had learned, it was Melanie was quick to dish out punishment and slow to forgive.   

With alarm clock disarmed and brain slowly kicking into gear, Melanie poked her head through the door to announce. “You might want to grab breakfast on the way today.” She turned to leave, hovering for a moment near the door, for no reason other than to let Melvin perve, at least that is what he thought she was doing. His eyes were glued to the figure hugging short skirt, thoughts racing forward to tonight and any animosity toward the cicada vanished. He was ready to forgive and jump her bones there and then. No doubt she was wearing a g-string with matching bra........

Look out for the book -- soon to be published. 
Thank the pig :)

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