29 Oct 2010


Holy Prostitutes

A man is driving down a deserted stretch of highway when he notices a sign out of the corner of his eye....It reads:




He thinks this is a figment of his imagination and drives on without a second thought....

Soon he sees another sign which reads:




Suddenly he begins to realize that these signs are for real and drives past a third sign saying:




His curiosity gets the best of him and he pulls into the drive. On the far side of the parking lot is a stone building with a small sign next to the door reading:


He climbs the steps and rings the bell. The door is answered by a nun in a long black habit who asks, 'What may we do for you ! my son? '

He answers, 'I saw your signs along the highway and was interested in possibly doing business....'

'Very well my son. Please follow me.' He is led through many winding passages and is soon quite disoriented. The nun stops at a closed door and tells the man, 'Please knock on this door.'

He does so and another nun in a long habit, holding a tin cup answers the door... This nun instructs, 'Please place $100 in the cup then go through the large wooden door at the end of the hallway.'

He puts $100 in the cup, eagerly trots down the hall and slips through the door pulling it shut behind him.

The door locks, and he finds himself back in the parking lot facing another sign:


Well what were you expecting eh???

Do you know that when a woman wears a leather dress,
a man's heart beats faster,
his throat gets dry,
he goes weak in the knees,
and he begins to think irrationally?
Ever wonder why ..?
It's because she .................

I'm off to review a book about RATS - The furry kind!!!
Tat aa .....

26 Oct 2010


               Well it will be if you check out these short story compilations by my good friend Reg Jones:

               Vampires and Spooky with a little bit of "I wasn't expecting that!"

                                 Here is the link:


From one of my colleagues - VERY nickable :-)




> Commenting on a complaint from a Mr. Arthur Purdey about a large gas

> bill, a spokesman for North West Gas said, 'We agree it was rather

> high for the time of year. It's possible Mr. Purdey has been charged

> for the gas used up during the explosion that destroyed his house.'

> (The Daily Telegraph)


> Police reveal that a woman arrested for shoplifting had a whole

> salami in her underwear. When asked why, she said it was because she

> was missing her Italian boyfriend.

> (The Manchester Evening News)


> Irish police are being handicapped in a search for a stolen van,

> because they cannot issue a description. It's a Special Branch vehicle

> and they don't want the public to know what it looks like.

> (The Guardian)


> A young girl who was blown out to sea on a set of inflatable teeth

> was rescued by a man on an inflatable lobster. A coast guard

> spokesman commented, 'This sort of thing is all too common'.

> (The Times)


> At the height of the gale, the harbourmaster radioed a coast guard

> and asked him to estimate the wind speed. He replied he was sorry,

> but he didn't have a gauge. However, if it was any help, the wind had

> just blown his Land Rover off the cliff.

> ( Aberdeen Evening Express)


> Mrs. Irene Graham of Thorpe Avenue , Boscombe, delighted the audience

> with her reminiscence of the German prisoner of war who was sent each

> week to do her garden. He was repatriated at the end of 1945, she

> recalled -

> 'He'd always seemed a nice friendly chap, but when the crocuses came

> up in the middle of our lawn in February 1946, they spelt out 'Heil

> Hitler.''

> ( Bournemouth Evening Echo)



> A list of actual announcements that London Tube train drivers have

> made to their passengers...


> 1) 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I do apologize for the delay to your

> service. I know you're all dying to get home, unless, of course, you

> happen to be married to my ex-wife, in which case you'll want to cross

> over to the Westbound and go in the opposite direction.'


> 2) 'Your delay this evening is caused by the line controller

> suffering from E & B syndrome: not knowing his elbow from his

> backside. I'll let you know any further information as soon as I'm

> given any.'


> 3) 'Do you want the good news first or the bad news? The good news is

> that last Friday was my birthday and I hit the town and had a great

> time. The bad news is that there is a points failure somewhere

> between Stratford and East Ham, which means we probably won't reach

> our destination.'


> 4) 'Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay, but there is a

> security alert at Victoria station and we are therefore stuck here

> for the foreseeable future, so let's take our minds off it and pass

> some time together. All together now.... 'Ten green bottles, hanging

> on a wall.....'.'


> 5) 'We are now travelling through Baker Street ... As you can see,

> Baker Street is closed. It would have been nice if they had actually

> told me,

> so I could tell you earlier, but no, they don't think about things

> like that'.


> 6) 'Beggars are operating on this train. Please do NOT encourage

> these professional beggars. If you have any spare change, please give

> it to a registered charity. Failing that, give it to me.'


> 7) During an extremely hot rush hour on the Central Line, the driver

> announced in a West Indian drawl: 'Step right this way for the sauna,

> ladies and gentleman... unfortunately, towels are not provided.'


> 8) 'Let the passengers off the train FIRST!' (Pause ) 'Oh go on then,

> stuff yourselves in like sardines, see if I care - I'm going home....'


> 9) 'Please allow the doors to close. Try not to confuse this with

> 'Please hold the doors open.' The two are distinct and separate

> instructions.'


> 10) 'Please note that the beeping noise coming from the doors means

> that the doors are about to close. It does not mean throw yourself or

> your bags into the doors.'


> 11) 'We can't move off because some idiot has their hand stuck in the

> door.'


> 12) 'To the gentleman wearing the long grey coat trying to get on the

> second carriage -- what part of 'stand clear of the doors' don't you

> understand?'


> 13) 'Please move all baggage away from the doors.' (Pause..) 'Please

> move ALL belongings away from the doors.' (Pause...) 'This is a

> personal message to the man in the brown suit wearing glasses at the

> rear of the train: Put the pie down, Four-eyes, and move your bloody

> golf clubs away from the door before I come down there and shove them

> up your arse sideways!'


> 14) 'May I remind all passengers that there is strictly no smoking

> allowed on any part of the Underground. However, if you are smoking a

> joint, it's only fair that you pass it round the rest of the

> carriage.'

23 Oct 2010

New Editor on the Block - Genevieve Sawchyn

So your book is finally finished and those magic words 'The End' have now been written.
Now comes the hardest part going back over it endless times to edit the story to perfection.
Why go all through that trauma when there is a superb editor awaiting your pleasure.
Genevieve Satchwyn is an editor whose reputation goes before her.
Here are the links to her sites.




Well ..... What are you waiting for?

17 Oct 2010


One of my favourite authors and friends has just had a book published called UNDER A HARVEST MOON. It will be available in time for Halloween - the time of Shamhain when the veil between the two worlds of the living and the dead are at their thinnest !!
I haven't got the expertise to bring the cover of the book to this blog (I really tried!!) Poppet had a hand in designing it. However if you go to her blog http://authorpoppet/ you can see it. I defy you not to like it. It has just the right touch for Halloween and all we celebrate at this time.

So then this is it, savour and enjoy.
Said Poppet ...........

                                                         Under a Harvest Moon

                                                   A Pandora's Imagination Anthology

I am so happy to be a part of this Anthology. It is out in time for Samhain / Halloween 2010. The contributors include two of my friends, Andy Chester and Kerry A Morgan. I submitted two stories for the anthology, Ruthless and Spellbound.

Spellbound is an erotic Pagan short story of being spellbound under the Hunter's Moon. Ruthless is a ghost story about a man who cheats on his wife, and a ghost comes out of her grave to set things right.

I am so honoured to have designed this cover for Pandora's Imagination. A huge thank you to Kerry for being such a pleasure to work with.

Under A Harvest Moon

An Anthology

Pandora's Imagination (.com)

Open the pages, step inside, be sure you are safe, and not truly flesh bait. Rest assured you'll be entertained, by hunger's thirst, and demons play. Some are afflicted, with ruthless abandon, though presently, we search for gemstone magicks. Keep your eyes wide and free, glance not peripherally for we'll keep you spellbound, under the influences of erotics found. We'll be ever-grateful, for those who've survived, and read till the end of our harvest, this time.


Kerry A. Morgan • Poppet • Drew Cross •Andy Chester • A.J. Brown • E.F. Shraeder • Tala Bar • Dennis Thompson • Liz R. Newman •

Publication Date: Oct 16 2010

ISBN/EAN13: 1453884513 / 9781453884515

Page Count: 416

Binding Type: US Trade Paper

Trim Size: 6" x 9"

Language: English

Related Categories: Fiction / Horror

                              GO AND BUY IT IN TIME FOR HALLOWEEN/SHAMHAIN 2010

10 Oct 2010


I have just finished reading this thrilling book by Simon Swift, and below is my review.


Black Shadows is not a book I would normally choose to read, but I’m so glad the opportunity was given to me.

We are introduced to the main character Errol Christopher Black, a rookie private detective as he tucks into a large bloody porterhouse steak. Detectives Terry Shadow and Dyke Spanner of the Shadow Man Detective Agency are helping him work his way through a now half empty bottle of claret.

The story unfolds in Newark New Jersey in 1935 where mobs rule, and we are witness to a typical shoot out of the time. As the table is upended to afford some form of protection from the flying bullets, they realise that they are not the intended targets but Terry Shadow meets his untimely end with two clean bullets to the head.

Ten years down the line we find Errol Christopher Black with a new partner, Hermeez Wentz and now based in Manhattan at the Black and Wentz Detective Agency along with his very obliging secretary Ava Jameson.

Errol seems happy to take on run of the mill cases and his new client Claudia seems to fit into that category. She tells of a straying fiancĂ© George, along with the discovery of a lipstick and pair of lacy panties which don’t belong to her.

As he takes on what he considers to be a routine surveillance case, Errol is unexpectedly drawn back once more to the mobsters and gangs of that time.

His one time partner Dyke Spanner is shot to death and Errol finds himself on the trail of a blue diamond coveted by hoodlums and beautiful women alike.

The story unfolds with many twists and turns, whilst the reader is witness to the beautiful women that Errol chooses to bed, in his quest for the diamond and the elusive George. Murder is not a rare occurrence either. To state more would give away too much of the plot.

The strength of the writing led me to imagine that I was entering into a 1940’s movie with Humphrey Bogart in the wings.

I also firmly believe that with the right exposure, there is potential here for a film.

Many times during reading BLACK SHADOWS I was convinced that I had all the answers, only to be completely wrong footed by the superb, imaginative writing of Simon Swift.

T K Geering 10/10/2010

Here is a taster of the first chapter ....


23 October 1935

Newark, New Jersey

When the shooting started, I was tucking into a nice, bloody porterhouse steak. A generous portion of mashed potatoes, string beans and turnip accompanied it, swimming in the tasty juices from the meat. A half empty bottle of claret stood in the middle of the table and a basket full of bread rolls sat at the edge. Three other men were eating; Terry Shadow was on my right, a small, wiry Irishman faced me, and Dyke Spanner was next to him.

The first few shots took us by surprise, but as they were not meant for us it did not really matter. A small man dressed in a brown suit was firing a pistol, but it was his partner, a larger, angrier, uglier man that was doing the damage, pumping the room full of shotgun blasts. Three of their intended targets were sitting in the far corner, and were all badly hurt in the opening exchange.

Dyke Spanner turned the table on its end, sending the plates of food crashing to the floor, before firing a volley of shots in the general direction of the mayhem. The wine survived, snatched by Terry Shadow seconds before, who was now drinking it straight from the bottle. We all cowered behind the table as it started to splinter before us, firing the odd shot back in the direction from where they came.

"Stop firing that fuckin' gun," shouted Terry in between gulps. "They're not here for us."

He was right. The intended hit was taking a piss in the bathroom. He was shot eight times; suffering mortal wounds to the abdomen, but amazingly didn't die for another 23 hours. The others all joined him in the death roll, as did Terry Shadow only moments after he scolded Dyke Spanner and myself. He died with a third of a bottle of claret in his hand and two clean gunshots to his head.

The moment Terry died I knew that it would change everything. There was no guarantee I would walk out of here alive. In fact, the chances were looking slimmer by the second, as all four of the killers’ targets were now approaching their end. But if I were to survive, my whole life as operative for The Shadow Man Detective Agency would be different.

Terry Shadow was the founder, owner and overall supremo of The Shadow Man Detective Agency. We averaged thirty cases a week, from debt collecting to missing persons. By far the most popular, however, was mob work. We did everything for the wise guys except pull the trigger. It didn’t matter if it was surveillance; tailing future hits, recovery; finding frisky treasurers that tended to go walkabout, or troubleshooting; which just about covered most things. If it paid, we did it. But most often it was security.

New York was full of would-be gangsters. There were regional mobs everywhere, all with their own tribal territories controlling protection rackets, narcotics, gambling and women. Everybody wanted a piece. It was these guys that we dealt with most. Transporting a name safely was a quick and well-rewarded job, even if the risks were supposedly high. Luckily the mobs tended to leave outsiders alone, which made my life a lot easier. We only lost one man in three years and didn't discriminate, working for anybody who paid well. New York wasn't short of those.

The bank balance swelled, but all our reputations suffered. Some weeks we pulled in twenty grand clear and all went home happy. It couldn't go on forever. Don't get me wrong, I didn’t particularly like what we were doing, but it wasn't my conscience that got the better of me. After all, I was only following orders. It had to end sometime. I would never spend all the money anyway, and although I had a reputation as a mob hanger-on I was hardly one of the boys. With Terry dead, the end was in sight. I decided right there and then, as bullets fizzed around my ears and blood splashed all over the carpet, that enough was enough.

It was the silence that broke my thoughts. A faint patter of footsteps, the slamming of a door, and then nothing. I checked myself over and to my surprise I was not hurt. The table was nothing more than firewood, there was broken glass and pints of blood splattered all over the floor, but I was in one piece. I looked over at Dyke Spanner and his smile told me that he too was unhurt. Our third dining acquaintance was gone.

The peace was broken by a stocky, heavy-set man, bleeding desperately from the middle, stumbling out of the bathroom. He had a smoking cigar between his teeth and a rather disheveled fedora in one hand. In the other shaking hand he held a gun, which he raised and pointed at every man in the room before lowering it and swearing resignedly to himself.

Of the other three targeted men, one was unconscious, one was absent and the other groaned aloud in a pool of his own blood. Dyke tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Errol, we should go. We don't want to be caught up in any of this. Let's get the boss to a hospital and scram."

I nodded watching in amazement as the man embraced his unconscious friend before leaping to his feet and pointing at me. "Kid come here."

I looked at Dyke and he shrugged.
"I said come here," repeated the dying man, more in hope than authority.

I holstered my weapon and walked through the debris to the man. The only other survivor had staggered his way through to the main tavern and could now be heard ringing for medical assistance. We all knew it would be too late. Dyke stayed nearby.

Up close he looked exactly the same as in all the news pictures. Although he was physically a small man, he still exuded an aura that a dying man should not be able to hold. His deep-set eyes were wild and darted around, even though he was talking to me and I was close enough to smell his breath. He was sucking a peppermint but he still smelled distinctly of death. His nose was crooked and had been broken many times, his chin square, his ears large but unobtrusive and his lips thin and colourless. He looked like a man I had seen many times and yet he was a man I had only just set my eyes upon.

"Come on Rolly," urged Dyke Spanner.

The last words of Arthur Flegenheimer have since been the subject of much myth and speculation. There are many pages of transcript from an official stenographer, which formed the basis of Bill Burroughs’s 1969 story. To me, most of it was the nonsense of a dying man, a proud, powerful and incredibly vicious, but nevertheless a dying man. The last words he uttered to me may or may not have been similar nonsense. When he finished talking about gloves, Hitler and the trouble with Jews he looked at me square in the eyes and said, "Think big, son, think big. And whatever you do steer clear of the wise guys, they’ll kill you!" and he patted me several times on the back.

Before I could reply, Dyke Spanner grabbed me by the shoulder and hauled me out of there. "The cops are here we gotta go," is all he said.

So I cleaned my hands of the mob, refused all offers, however handsome, and kept to the private stuff. With Terry gone it was now Errol Christopher Black who was the boss. It wasn't fear of dying, most mobsters died on the job that was a fact, but I had lost fear years ago. I simply decided that it wasn't for me anymore and took my low-life standards elsewhere.

Dyke Spanner refused to follow.................

I've nicked some more from Poppet.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as i've finished reading and reviewing a couple of books. The first book Dark Shadows, I have just finished and i'm about to write up a review. I feel it will do extremely well.

A man and his ever-nagging wife went on vacation in Jerusalem. While they were there, the wife passed away. The undertaker told the husband, "You can have her buried here in the Holy Land for $150 or we can have her shipped back home for $5000.

The husband thought about it and told the undertaker he would have her shipped back home. The undertaker asked him, "why would you spend $5000 to have her shipped home when you could have a beautiful burial here, and it would only cost $150???
The husband replied, "Long ago, a man named Jesus died here, was buried here, and three days later, rose from the dead.
I Just can't take that chance!"

Questions that haunt

• How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?

• Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?

• Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?

Brit humour
I was walking down the road when I saw an Afghan bloke standing on a fifth floor balcony shaking a carpet. I shouted up to him, "What's up Abdul, won't it start?"

The word UP
This two-letter word in English has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that word is 'UP.' It is listed in the dictionary as an [adv], [prep], [adj], [n] or [v].

It's easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP?

At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP, and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends, brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and fix UP the old car.
At other times this little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses.

To be dressed is one thing but to be dressed UP is special. And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP.

We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP !

To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look UP the word UP in the dictionary.. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4 of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions

If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don't give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more.

When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP . When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, it soaks UP the earth. When it does not rain for awhile, things dry UP. One could go on & on, but I'll wrap it UP, for now ........my time is UP ! Oh....one more thing: What is the first thing you do in the morning & the last thing you do at night?


P !

Did that one crack you UP? Now - I'll shut UP

Grandma's don't know everything….
Little Tony was 9 years old and was staying with his Grandma for a few days. He'd been playing outside with the other kids for a while when he came into the house and asked her, “Grandma, what's that thing called when two people sleep in the same room and one is on top of the other?”

She was a little taken back, but she decided to tell him the truth. “It's called sexual intercourse, darling”

Little Tony said, “Oh, OK”, and went back outside to play with the other kids.

A few minutes later he came back in and said angrily, “Grandma, it isn't called sexual intercourse. It's called Bunk Beds, and Jimmy's mom wants to talk to you.”

Getting Even

One December day we found an old straggly cat at our door. She was a sorry sight. Starving, dirty, smelled terrible, skinny, and hair all matted down. We felt sorry for her so we put her in a carrier and took her to the vet.

We didn't know what to call her so we named her 'Pussycat.'

The vet decided to keep her for a day or so. He said he would let us know when we could come and get her.

My husband (the complainer) said, 'OK, but don't forget to wash her, she stinks.' He reminded the vet that it was his WIFE (me) that wanted the dirty cat, not him.

My husband and my Vet don't see eye to eye. The vet calls my husband 'El-Cheap-O', and my husband calls the vet 'El-Charge-O'. They love to hate each other and constantly 'snipe' at one another, with my husband getting in the last word on this particular occasion.

The next day my husband had an appointment with his doctor, who is located in the same building, next door to the vet.

The MD's waiting room and office was full of people waiting to see the doctor. A side door opened and the vet leaned in - he had obviously seen my husband arrive.

He looked straight at my husband and in a loud voice said, 'Your wife's pussy doesn't stink any more. We washed and shaved it, and now she smells like a rose. Oh, and, by the way, I think she's pregnant. God only knows who the father is!' Then he closed the door.

Now THAT, my friends, is getting even!

Keep this in mind the next time you are about to repeat a rumour or spread gossip.

In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom.
One day an acquaintance ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about Diogenes?"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied, "Before you tell me I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."
'Triple filter?" asked the acquaintance.
"That's right," Socrates continued, "Before you talk to me about Diogenes let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
"No," the man said, "Actually I just heard about it."
"All right," said Socrates, "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about Diogenes something good?"
"No, on the contrary..."
"So," Socrates continued, "You want to tell me something about Diogenes that may be bad, even though you're not certain it's true?"
The man shrugged, a little embarrassed. Socrates continued, "You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter, the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about Diogenes going to be useful to me?"
"No, not really."
"Well," concluded Socrates, "If what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even useful, why tell it to me or anyone at all?"

The man was bewildered and ashamed. This is an example of why Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.

It also explains why Socrates never found out that Diogenes was shagging his wife.