(2nd draft, thanks to bluepootle, e-griff, harry & hazy)

Barely awake, I reached out to the other side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty. I was alone; even after five months it shocked me anew each morning.
Crit welcome

I like science fiction, and I like spoofs. So here is an amalgamation of the two

London, 1888...two distinct worlds: West End, East End - rich and poor. It's only the East End, however, that's being stalked and terrorised by the unknown, horrifying figure of "leather-apron".

Any suggestions/crit gratefully received. :)

TCS Part. Need to know whether the tense changes and voice switches work or not. Any other crit greatly appreciated too! Thanks!

A strange form moves across the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Matt and Concilia must act quickly to save the conclave

Not everyone was a kitchen princess...even in the fifties.

like a cicada emerging from its chrysalis, I have become 'cyberstud', the mad stallion of the chat room, pawing at the paddock gate.

Sherry tolerated his nuzzling and slurping, remembering to keep her face well turned away in case she got a noseful of those teeth. But then he left her in the dark...

It was time to get to the bottom of my sometime friend, Pompenazzi.

We all know that something dire will happen sometime.

A bit science fiction - but honest! - No rockets, planets, alien life forms etc. Just human beings on planet Earth... It's more about people than science, but it needs the science to get the message across...

A heartwarming tale of the Old West, where men are men, women are women, horses are horses, and the natives are expendable.

A very old story.

What on earth can be keeping him? He should have been home hours ago. I've got everything ready, took me ages to set it up. There's a welcome waiting for him like he's never had before in his life. Still, he deserves it ...

The cat had spawned her kittens in the warmth of his throat and there they bulged and pulsated.

Jesu and Sassafras get it on.....

(A PEEP INTO 2020)
This article has been released for publication in this Newspaper
and we are happy to publish it in full.
We hope to be able to publish the follow-on article next week.
Editor: - ‘The People’s Daily’.

A dinner party with Mark, and Helen in confusion

Really philosophy - in form of a Plato-like e-mail dialogue. Let's see if 'the Mind's I' author reacts.

Written in Feb for a writing competition,

Enjoy.

Have you ever seen a dead body?

They don’t want ‘dead’. They eat fear, hot fresh fear. They want me alive so they can gorge on my terror. But, as long as I don’t move they will just watch, watch and drool.

[no short description]

Another Cyclical Snake section. These are meant to be able to be read in any order, so the person who begins at the end has the same information as the person who is reading this page last.

Mark seems to become a nice person

Well, this is a new departure for me. A Victorian tale of true love and perverted lust. – introducing the ‘interesting’ Mrs Julia Cramphorne…



My eyes saw lust everywhere. That morning, the bronze outside the breakfast room had lured me with the swell of a rounded breast under a robe; the curve of the hard-boiled egg drew my attention, the softness of the butter as it spread under my knife. All these conspired to lure my thoughts into dark places, places unbefitting my true love.

OK, it's long! For god's sake, you putative authors, take a shot at something that might tax your brains longer than an advert break. What is writing about? *huffs*


*in a friendly way*

The first chapter of my book that I'm currently writing. The story of Eddie Friday won't ever get into any english liturature anothlogies but hopefully it is an enjoyable work of pure imagination.

More of this story is on my website. www.awesome-life.org

A mysterious dame leads Nelson, private eye and serial boozehound, into BIG trouble....

Fourth part of what smoulders in Desposito...

It's a sad fact of life in modern Britain that real heroes often become the victims,

The swamp is not a place, it's a state of mind.

2nd Installment

Part 3

(The finding of Immarath)

I remember exactly where I was when I first heard the news.

A man was pointing a gun in my face at the time.

Well, you asked how the novel was coming along. Here's your answer. Any harsh crit welcome.

Will's saga continues

Two Irish pilgrims to the funeral of JP II stay for the conclave and meet an old friend who reveals monstrous secrets about behind the scenes suspense in the Vatican.

Is it just paranoia???


I'm experimenting with a different angle with this one, so any advice is very welcome. ***WARNING - contains very strong bad words! - WARNING***

Dooley and Dawes have only worked for Gonzales for a short while, but already their idiocy is wearing his patience thin....
Written in Feb 2002, this was the first story I sent off for rejection.
I liked the characters so much, they reappear in the book I'm currently writing.

The story of friendship between two unlike people.
The Clay pot is a sort of moneybox which has only one slit on the top to put in the money. To get the money out, one has to break it open.

Flatmates. What are they good for? Warning: a very bloody tale.

You've got to be certain of who you're letting into your house these days, or you could be in for a shock...maybe a terrible shock.

Excerpt from my book ( see http://www.pabd.com/2005/books/hdeasy ). In the far future, a ruthless tyrant rules the Earth, powering his city with energy from executions of 'criminials'. Only Krastor can stop the terrible monster, born of the hate of the murdered souls, from exacting vengeance by destroying the emperor and his city.

A short piece for the prose challenge from dogfrog and Claire a couple of weeks back, using 'void' as a story idea. Any crit/comments would be very welcome and much appreciated.

Published in Lookout

Dooley and Dawes have only worked for Gonzales for a short while, but already their idiocy is wearing his patience thin....

I wrote this in Feb 2002 and it was the first story i sent off for rejection.

(chapter two)

The first part of my novel.

Sara Jones wants a new job...

Crit me hard please, I need it.