Here are a few little "tasters" from my previously published work.
The Fiction and Non-Fiction pages contain links to other examples in their respective categories.
Extract from "Glimpses of Ghostly England", published in This England winter 2011 issue.
Spectral Roman legions march, to silent orders. Phantom hounds and knights flicker across castle grounds. Villagers shudder as they walk straight through galloping horses. Weeping, bangs and howls terrify visitors to ancient halls. England’s restless ghosts fascinate, sadden, astound and horrify.
Extract from "Snow, Farce & Fireworks", published in Best of British December 2017 issue.
An enraged giant was tearing a newspaper to shreds. Bangs punctuated the ripping noise. Floundering upwards through sleep, I opened my eyes. Vivid blue and white flashes jagged across my bedroom ceiling. Were we on fire?
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, ransacking my seven years’ experience for clues. Then I heard it, struggling against the crackling and explosions; the regular, but worryingly slow beat of train wheels. It was 1961 and our Camberley lodging’s gardens lay under gale-sculpted snowdrifts, that glowed against the louring indigo clouds.
Extract from " RO-RAILERS – AHEAD OF THEIR TIME OR OVERTAKEN BY EVENTS? ", published in Railway Magazine February 2018 issue.
The Ro-railer, or road-rail vehicle, is an innovation that has flickered in and out of fashion and topicality, with changing social and economic conditions.
The Karrier Motors single deck ro-rail bus of 1931 was a short-lived experiment that was never developed beyond the prototype. The same applied to the ro-rail lorry trialled briefly by the LNER. The later, covered road tractor or locomotive-hauled ro-rail vans of the 1960s had a similarly brief life.
Extract from "Brought To Light", Winner of the Freelance Market News April 2014 Short Story Competition
“In there, scum.”
“Where’s my wife?” The policeman had shoved Ahmed hard. The cell door had slammed. He’d tripped, crashing backwards down stone steps then smashing onto his back in freezing, sewer-stinking darkness.
The concrete slab was always hardest whenever Ahmed woke from that nightmare. Two years on and here he still was; teeth chattering as he pulled the ragged, filthy blanket around him.
Extract from "The False Note", 2nd Prize Winner, in the N.A.W.G. 2016 Pam's People 250 Word Competition.
“Are you going fishing tomorrow?” Carol smiled up at Tom, as they strolled in the darkening hotel garden.
“Yes, if that’s OK with you.”
“Sure; Moulderhope Manor are finally letting me see an ancient warning scroll.” She looked away. “It’s for my superstitions article. It’s... not online.”