Tag Archives: short story

The Suspect and other tales free book deal

My book ‘The Suspect and other tales’ will be available for free from the 14th July – 18th July 2020.

Book Description:

Tales of the unexpected, ranging from stories of crime and vengeance through to ghostly happenings in an ancient mansion.

Afterwards

She leaned forward slightly, across the wide table, her breasts pressing against the thin silk dress.

It was, in fact not real silk. However it was a first-rate copy and only the man with a trained eye would have spotted the fake, and Tim knew as much about genuine fabrics as the average man or woman knows about anglo saxon poetry.

“You know Tim that I’d like to come back. How do you English say, to your place?”

“Yeah”, he said, trying hard to look away from those barely concealed globes of delight.

“But there’s something I need to ask you”, she continued, her tongue circling her lips. “Are you protected?”.

“Sorry. I don’t follow?”, Tim said, his hand moving to take Chauntele’s, which rested on the delicately patterned tablecloth.

“Protection”, Chauntele said, lowering her gaze so as to examine the pattern on the tablecloth.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ve condoms back at my place”, he said, his eyes also discovering something fascinating in the design of the cloth.

“No, sweetie. Are you protected?”.

“Yeah. As I said, I have condoms back at my place. So its all good”, he said, lust contending with growing irritation in his breast.

Chauntele flipped open her smartphone, entered a password and showed the screen to Tim. “Tested negative for COVID-19 at Saint Matthew’s Testing Centre, on 31 August 2021”, the certificate read.

Tim sighed. it wasn’t going to be his lucky night …

Ghoul (flash fiction)

“You know that I never wanted to buy the house in the first place, don’t you!”, he said.

“Don’t I just. You’ve never stopped wittering on about how you hate it here since we moved in! In fact I remember arguing all night before you finally gave in and agreed to sign the contract. Why the hell did you agree if you hate it here so much? Don’t tell me, its because it was so bloody cheap. That’s you all over, you’ve never been able to resist a bargain, even though your loaded, with all that dosh you got when your gran died!”, she said.

“Call me all the names you like. I’ve never felt comfortable here. There’s that strange whirring noise I heard when we first looked around here. I can hear it now. It gives me the heebie jeebies.

There’s that room downstairs as well. You open the door and its always cold in there, whilst the rest of the place is, I have to admit warm. Its not natural, that chill, I hate going anywhere near that room.

There’s that strange light also. It comes on whenever anyone opens the door to that place. I think we’ve inherited a ghoul. In fact I’ve half a mind to put the place on the market tomorrow morning!”, he said.

“Inherited a ghoul! How many times do I have to tell you, that’s the walk-in freezer Mrs Michaels included in the sale …!”.

Of literature, pelican crossings and escort girls in Liverpool!

I spent the Christmas period with my mum, her partner and my sister in Liverpool. Following a very enjoyable week with my family, I returned to London on Friday 27 December.

As my mum, her Partner and I stood at the pelican crossing outside Liverpool Central station, waiting to cross and make our way to Lime Street in order that I could catch my train back to London, my mum’s partner commented on a sticker affixed to the pelican, advertising the services of escort girls which (my mum added) had been rendered illegible by someone with a thick black marker pen)!

The above incident reminded me of my short story “Samantha”, which tells the story of an upper-class young woman forced into prostitution in the city of Liverpool, https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00BL3CNHI/. “Samantha” has received a number of great reviews, including the below 4 star review by Paul S:

Samantha

“I downloaded this short novel when it was being offered free on Amazon Kindle and I was pleasantly surprised by how good it was. It had a gripping plot, good characterisation and plenty of ‘atmosphere’; things that can be lacking in short stories. I think there may be a couple of formatting issues as I found I had to re-read a couple of paragraphs as they initially seemed out of place, possibly due to a missing carriage return instruction or perhaps because I was reading the story too quickly as I wanted to find out what happened next!
I won’t expand upon the plot as I do not want to create any spoilers but I suggest that you give this short novel a look if you enjoy atmospheric crime thrillers that have an element of romance, a gripping story line, some really nasty villains and a quite dramatic, action packed, climax”. To read the review on Amazon please follow this link, https://www.amazon.co.uk/review/R2YUTS78WBRB01/.

Shy Girl

As the vicar spoke of hell fire, and how the wicked are condemned to eternal torment, the sexton gazed sideways at his youngest daughter – a girl with the figure of a dancer. A real heart breaker he thought, and yet she was pure as the newly fallen snow on the nearby moors, before the cattle had trampelled through the drifts, leaving their footprints and dung behind.

Alice, (his 18-year-old daughter) sat, her eyes half closed in the pew, a dreamy expression on her face. Her prayer book lay open (but unheeded) on her lap.

“Can I help you miss?”, the shop girl said to the young woman who stood, her nails digging into her palms at the counter.

“Yes err … err”.

The shop assistant repressed a sigh. She’d seen it all before,but couldn’t help getting impatient at times.

“Miss?”

“I’d …”,

The assistant smiled encouragingly.

“Do you have, whips?”, the young woman whispered, her face turning the colour of beetroot.

The assistant reached under the counter and withdrew 2 whips. One was of the fluffy, joke variety, whilst the other was of the kind used by jockeys.

“I’ll take that one”, the young woman said, pointing to the fearsome looking riding crop.

“Cash or card, Miss?”.

“Oh god, no card, cash!”, the customer said, her hands fumbling in her purse.

“This rounds on me”, the young student said.
“Thanks”, Marie said. And as her friend went to the student bar to pay for 10 drinks, Marie wondered, as she had on many previous occasions, where her friend got the money for those expensive clothes and the leather handbag she sported.

With trembling hands the vicar typed, “Saturday at 9 pm. Usual place. OK with you?”. Then moistening his dry lips he clicked send.

“There’s this new club opening in town this Saturday. Are you up for it?”, Marie said.
“Nope, sorry, I’m visiting my family this Saturday”, Alice said and, despite her best eforts her cheeks burned …

Hitman

He steaddied the rifle against the window ledge and, gazing along the barrel saw the target, on the beach far below.

Just another hit, he thought, as he watched the living dead hand in hand with a petite blonde. She was not his wife, he knew as much. That did not, of course bother him in the slightest. Other people’s sex lives where a matter of complete indifference to him. What was of concern to the hitman was the £20,000 he would receive once the target was neutralised.

She was pretty that blonde. He wouldn’t mind having her between his sheets, he thought as he lined up the rifle on the target.

The sea, far below roared and a gull walked, casually along the crumbling cliff edge.

It had been a stroke of luck finding this house abandoned at the top of the cliff path, he thought as his finger tightened on the trigger.

The man below bent to kiss the blonde, just as the finger of the hitman squeezed tight on the Trigger.

The report of the gun was, as he knew it would be, lost in the roar of the sea and the crying of the gulls.

As lips touched below, the bullet sailed high above the target’s head. Then the roar of the sea and the crying of the gulls was joined by another louder roar as the cliff, long the subject of erosion by wind and sea gave way, taking the house so precariously balanced at the cliff edge with it. The report had been the final straw that had broken the camel’s back, bringing house and hitman crashing down to the unforgiving waves below.

“Christ”, that was a near thing, the target said, as he gazed at the fallen rocks only some hundred yards from where he and his petite mistress stood, horror struck on the beach below.

The end

Looking for Business

This story contains some strong language. if you are offended by strong language, please read no further.

Bethany tasted blood and suddenly became aware that she was chewing her lower lip, No, not chewing, she was actually biting it hard enough to produce blood. How long had she been doing that for? Bethany had no idea.

She made a conscious efort to stop gnawing her lip but, in doing so became acutely aware of the cheap short skirt and the 6 inch heels on which she tottered.

“Fuck, what am I doing here?”, she thought, taking hold of the lamp post for support. Dam those heels, she could hardly stand in them let alone walk!

“Looking for business love?”. Bethany started, and became aware of 2 scruffily dressed guys in an old Ford. “No”. “Then what the hell are you standing there for, on the street corner?”, the driver said and, not waiting for an answer stuck up 2 fingers and drove away.

“Oh god this is all a fucking mistake”, Bethany thought, stamping her feet trying to keep warm. Shit, her right heel had snapped clean off. “cheap bloody shoes, horrid skirt”, she said outloud, starting to cry.

A car pulled over and a man in a clerical collar leaned out of the driver’s window, “excuse me, are you looking for business?”, “you know I bloody well am”, Bethany said climbing in next to the vicar.

They drove in silence, Bethany glaring at the clerical gentleman. “Chill out Bethany. You can’t deny that its authentic. I bet you will be the only girl at the Tarts and Vicars Party who can say that they have stood on a street corner, dressed as a tart and been picked up by her boyfriend, dressed as a vicar!”.

The end

‘Samantha’ by Kevin Morris will be available free in the Amazon Kindle Store from the 15th-19th March.

From the 15th-19th March, my book ‘Samantha’ will be available for free in the Amazon Kindle Store.

“Samantha tells the story of a young girl forced into prostitution in the city of Liverpool. Can Sam’s love for Peter, a man she meets in a nightclub, save her? Or will Sam end her life in the murky waters of Liverpool’s Albert Dock?”

 

The Cane

“Wait here!” he said, his hands clenching and unclenching as he strode towards the door. There was a crash and he was out in the open air.
He rushed down the garden path and, wrenching open the tool shed door, grabbed several thick bamboo canes and, not bothering to close it behind him, hurried back to the building where the objects of his ire awaited his return.
He found that thin canes had no lasting effect. What was needed was real discipline and he was determined that, come hell or high water those ungrateful offspring he had so carefully nurtured would behave.
“I’ve warned you until I’m blue in the face but you won’t listen! All the love and care I’ve devoted to you and you repay me by slouching on the ground like that. Right, here goes” he said brandishing the thick bundle of bamboo. Bending down he grasped one of the many large plants which had become detached from the frame which had, hitherto held them in place …

A Thunderstorm In Town, by Lucy Ribchester

Earlier this evening, I listened to “A Thunderstorm In Town”, a short story by Lucy Ribchester, which was inspired by Thomas Hardy’s poem of the same name. Ribchester’s story is an interesting and, for me unexpected take on Hardy’s poem.

You can listen to the poem (and the story) by following this link http://www.bbcmundo.com/programmes/b09pjmjj