Book Review - Little Words ... Full of Big Worlds by Nav Logan

You all know how Nav logan is by now don't you? I mention him enough. Well today, I finished his book Little words ... Full of Big Worlds. It's safe to say, I wasn't disappointed. You should know by now that I'll only ever promote a book that I think is worth you reading ... And you should be reading this one right now. So be smart you lovely people and check it out! :)

"Having been somewhat familiar with the authors works already, this book was a must read. The authors drabbles (100 word flash fiction) had already amused me for many hours. I was looking forward to more of his trademark wit and clever inspiring tales. When I finally sat down to read the book, the drabbles ended up playing second string. Mr. Logan's poetry is the shining star here, a well kept secret and the definite highlight for me. Each and every poem carefully crafted with the adventure of a full blown novel. Rather than make references to other poets, there is no need. Nav Logan stands on his own with his brand of excellent poetry. Some of the highlights, of which there are many, include... 'The stumped toe affair', 'Houdini the mouse' and 'Being a man.'

Whether your a drabble fan or looking for your new favourite poet, don't look any further than this book of little words and big worlds."

Little words ...
Nav Logan

The Weekly Round-Down. (No.17)

This week was slightly busy to say the least. I was happy about a four star review, completed a chaotic author takeover and still found time to conquer Michael Bay.

I know what you're thinking. After months of me complaining about reviews that didn't contain that perfect rating, how could I be happy with a four? Well, let me assure you, I have not lowered the impossibly daft standards I told against my book. Obviously the four star review was good, but within it contained some of the best advice I had yet to receive. The criticism was that I focused too much on developing the character and not enough on the story. I stared at these words like a child staring at a balloon and suddenly, clarity hit. The reviewer was absolutely right. It had never even crossed my mind. Maybe, Misery was more of a character piece than a story. And this has lead me to believe that I can improve the Talon Strand a lot more by focusing on the story. So that is my newest objective, to focus on.

After a peaceful Saturday spent writing Between Dimensions, I saw my Nan, since on Sunday I had two author take overs. Both for the lovely A.K. Michaels. Long story short they went well, but they were hectic and thanks to my still dodgy lap top, I did most of it on my bloody phone.

Yes, that's right. Your President Bailey, conquered that poor excuse for a film-maker Michael Bay and boy did he have it coming. It's what you get when you cast Kelsey Grammer in a shit movie! No one puts Frasier in a corner.

Story-time 20 went perfectly, so one last thank you goes out to everyone involved. And it is my most popular blog post ever! Though perhaps I could manage to out do it with story-time 40! Forty authors and forty drabbles? It's doable, I reckon. I'd have to start right bloody now.

More people in America read my blog than in England. Which is slightly strange, though I'm still convinced a few of them work for blogger ... well I hope they're entertained. But in all seriousness, thank you Americans. Beating up Obama in the last painful parody was for you.

I was thinking today that it's merely nine months since I entered the indie writing scene and started this blog. Which is crazy! All the amazing people I have met, everything I have achieved, for myself at least. It's all so weird to me. When I started meeting people who had written books, they were celebrities to me ... but not the disposable kind. I mean they were writers with fans! And I was this little guy with a book and hopes of releasing it one day. Now, nine months later, I have become close with them. I have worked along side them. My good friend Nav was one of the first to welcome me to the seen and he's helped me ever since. I've read a lot of Nav's work and posted it around because it deserves to be seen. He's the reason I wrote my first drabble as I've mentioned before. Today (Wednesday), he actually wrote a drabble inspired by one of mine! I was like holy shit, how has that happened! Obviously I was flattered because to me, I'm still a junior author finding my way and the fact that anyone would find my work inspiring, is indeed flattering.

My Nan has started to beat me a cards, she's still along way behind. She owes me £17 ($26.85) but she's catching up. I do not like this. I am very much a sore loser. it drives me crazy, I play to win and anything different to that, I get mad ha ha.

*As of today (Thursday), I gave her good beating at cards and I'm back to winning ways. I also enjoyed KFC in bed again, which continues to be awesome ... after the gym of course. Then, I did a jig saw! Which was awesome, often forgotten in today's digitally obsessed world, it was nice to relax and do a puzzle.

Today is black Friday. Millions of people fighting over reduced-prices and the material possessions they gain. It looks like idiocy to me. Those people fighting over a television, so that you can witness their brain rot in stunning HD. They should stop still for just one second and think about what their life has become ... And then drop dead for consuming more oxygen than they are worth.

Today's spotlight is for the ever lovely Ashley Erin, so be sure to check her out.

You can find her here:

Facebook
Good Reads

A little bit about Ashley:

"I’m 28 years old and finally this year set about fulfilling a long time dream… Writing a novel. So I began All About Us. All About Us is book 1 in the All or Nothing series. It has been a terrifying, thrilling and freeing journey. I am also participating in NaNoWriMo this year. I began my NA, The No Ass-hole Rule. Book 1 in the Rule series. Pushing myself hard for NaNo has shown just how much I can accomplish when I set my mind to it! (All the books in my series are standalone).
I adore horses, my girls Belle and Serenity both have appearances in my book, riding, reading and I love my dog Madison more than I love almost everything else."

And to finish you off, here's the top 15. Have a great weekend everybody.

C.S

(Lwp)
1. (1) Shadows – Lindsey Stirling
2. (2) Rebuild – Son Lux
3. (4) One Month Off – Bloc Party
4. (5) Maybe, Misery – Quiet Drive
5. (n/a) Hushabye - KoRn
6. (n/a) Inside the Fire - Disturbed
7. (3) Stars Align – Lindsey Stirling
8. (n/a) Blood – In This Moment
9. (6) Red – CombiChrist
10. (7) Ex-Creations – Fall Of Troy
11. (n/a) Megalomaniac – Incubus
12. (13) End of an Empire – Celldweller
13. (n/a) Beauty School – Deftones
14. (14) For You – Endo
15. (12) Comanche – In This Moment

Actual Poetry Thursdays! (No.4)

We are once again joined by Nav Logan this week. I know I said this wouldn't be a weekly thing, but with people writing such brilliant poems, surely it's a crime not to share them? Any way, enjoy and head to www.navlogan.com for more.

"The poem from which the Storm-Bringer Saga grew…" *Which you can get here.*

Storm-Bringer


The storm rises, filling the air with thunder,

Clouds darken and begin to swirl, angry.

Lightning cracks and seers the earth,

Its beauty filling me with awe.

And across the land, the sound of thunder rolls on …


Somewhere far away, a woman sits, looking at the coming storm

Hair, raven black and as wild as the incoming tempest.

Sitting silently, engrossed in the power above,

Pale-skinned against the storms flashing glare.

And across the land, the thunder rumbles on ...


A raven circles high above, buffeted by the strong winds,

Beady eyes searching the ground, seeking out a meal.

Wings ruffling as it turns to dive. It shivers,

And races the down-pouring rain, to the soft earth below.

And the thunder rumbles on …


Lightning strikes a tree, black shadows take to wing,

And a woman watches the dance of life,

She shivers at the sudden chill in the air,

The hairs on her arms standing up,

In salute of the power above,

As the storm gathers above the house.

Lightning arcs down from the heavens,

Sparks fly from the weathervane.

And the lights within the house flicker and go out,

Leaving the rooms in darkness.

And the thunder rumbles on ...


With a start and a shudder, the woman blinks,

Feeling the blood racing through her body,

Pounding in her ears,

As thunder and lightning strike together.

As the thunder rumbles overhead …


The raven settles on the smoking oak outside.

The woman smiles and settles back to watch.

Rain sweeps across the land, washing it clean,

And the stormy wind shakes the trees.

The thunder rolls away into the distance.


And the sun begins to shine.

Making the woman’s eyes close,

Shying away from the glare,

As the tension leaves the air.

The world falls silent,

As the calm arrives at the door

And in the distance …

The thunder rolls on.

Attempt At Poetry Wednesdays! (No.15)

Death Dealer

Lost and alone, yet completely surrounded,
Cast out by design.
With unaltered perceptions of time,
Looking for love, but constantly dumbfounded.

Life like an illusion,
Struggling with the mundane.
Without an adventure.
Twisted within confusion.

Intertwined with many, caring for only a few.
Desperate for the end,
Or merely looking for a beginning.
Confined by the lies that remain true.

Lacking in a trustful nature,
Forever vigilant.
Enemies making perfect strangers,
Finding nothing worth the nurture.

Desperately craving a healer.
Glancing through the bitter storm,
Biting down to the bone.
Searching for the death dealer.

Story-time 20! Mega-Mega Bumper Edition!

Story-time 20 is here! *And the crowd goes wild* We couldn't have arrived at this point without the help of everyone who has contributed thus far, so thank you all; especially my bananas because without them, it wouldn't have been possible. We have 20 drabbles for you today, two of which are two hundred words. We have some from veteran drabblists and some from first-timers, not that you'd know it from there excellent work. I'd like to thank each of them for their time and effort, so make sure you check out their sites (embedded within their name) and show them some support. They're all bananas in my book. And yes, that is a compliment.

Now it's grab that hot beverage (best make it a large) that you have become accustomed to and enjoy these fantastic short stories in no particular order. Much love, C.S

Sunset Dreams by C.S. Bailey

The sun glistens off the seas teal surface as it starts to set, the air is as fresh and clean as it’s ever been and as the sand caresses the soles of my feet, I crack a smile.
For the very first time, it feels like I’m home.
Suddenly I am approached by a stranger, dressed in a long black cloak with the hood covering his face. His hands gripping a scythe, yet I feel no fear.
He walks straight past me slowly and mutters the words “welcome home” in his gravelly voice.

So this is what heaven looks like.

Great Plans of Crows and Men by Nav Logan

The ravens peck hungrily at the crumbs, relishing the freshly-baked bread. They are starting to get full, but no matter how much they eat there is always more crumbs ahead.
They meander further into the garden, following the ornamental hedges and gobbling up the bread.

They sense a trap, but the food is just too tempting to ignore.

Farther and farther they travel, winding their way through the hedgerows, always following the feast. Up ahead, they can hear people arguing “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Absolutely! We only need to follow the breadcrumbs to escape the maze…”

Hold-up at the Hold-up by Bryan Thomas

"Everybody hit the deck!" The armed robber shouted.

Everyone lay on the floor apart from one elderly man.

"Open the safe, old-timer, and fill this bag with cash," the robber said.

"We don't have any money, would you like me to put some sausage rolls in your bag?"

"Sausage rolls! Quit stalling and fill the bag or I'll blow your freakin' head off."

The robber approached the old man and pointed the gun at his head.

"I've told you already, we don't have any money."

"This is a bank, isn't it?"

"Yes, this is a bank - a food bank."

Promotion at any cost by Rick Haynes

Algernon had been seeking promotion in the War Office.
Finally, he had received his invitation to the diplomatic dinner, and he was determined to make the most of it.
On spying a beautiful girl, he immediately took the seat next to her and poured them both generous drinks.
They were soon giggling away so he slipped his hand under the table and caressed her knee.
As there was no reaction, his hand moved higher to the edge of her panties.
He smiled as she passed over a note.
Don’t give the game away when you reach my balls. Berkley - MI5.

Tabloid by David Wailing

Like every morning, John Drake reads the papers during breakfast. He’s giving this new personalised digital newspaper a try. Apparently they’ve turned their job into a precise art.
At his touch, the data-plastic broadsheet lights up.
The Daily You
Monday 25 November 2024
YOUR DOCTOR SAYS “60% CHANCE MR DRAKE WILL DIE OF HEART DISEASE WITHIN FIVE YEARS”
ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS HAVE MOVED IN AT NUMBER 88
CAUGHT ON CCTV: YOUR DAUGHTER KAREN’S CRACK HOUSE SHAME
John chokes on his cornflakes, pulse racing, vision blurring. Too late, he realises what the tabloids’ job really is: delivering fear.

OBITUARY: JONATHAN DRAKE, 57.

Face in the Mirror by Michael Brookes

I stare at my face in the mirror and I can’t be sure that it’s really me. My eyes are hunted and bruised from nights of disturbed sleep. A dread has stalked my dreams, twisting them into nightmares that linger even in dawn’s embrace.

In the mirror I glimpse a malformed shadow lurking behind me, its touch is cold upon my skin and fills me with terror. My will fails and I fall into the mirror, my final scream frozen in glass.

I gaze at my reflection and admire my new face, I think I’ll wear it for a while.

When Authors Kill by Ken Magee

She said she hated him. She said she would break his arms. Then she said she would break his legs. After that, she said she would scream abuse at him and then she would kill him. Then she said she would have a glass of wine and toast his demise.

The claw hammer swished almost silently through the air and caught her with a sickening, bone-crushing blow on the nose. Her whole face exploded in a star burst of blood spatter; pasting the wall with a gory, dripping pattern of steaming brains.

“Show, don’t tell,” he whispered into the corpse’s ear.

Tree of little life by Lisa Williamson

Life makes a way not matter the conditions.  The water lapping gently against the rock teases the roots of my being.  I reach to the sky with arms so small yet so strong.  Within me there is strength and vibrancy that you can see and feel if you take a moment of time.

Green is my blood and brown is my bone, I am life and wonder and all that surrounds your world. Come drift upon the waters and brush against my being, today we are brothers in the soul of imagination.  Can you find in yourself a new dream?

No Escape! by A.K. Michaels

Lightning flashed and the girl gasped, eyes wide as she frantically tried to find an escape. Heart beating wildly in her chest as she senses them closing in. ‘I’m not going to escape!’

“No!” she screamed, terror in her voice as the first of her pursuers appeared.

Stalking towards her, hate in his eyes, dressed in black leather. She knew she was done for when more joined him. A dozen, all dressed alike, all holding the same death in their hands.

“You’re not getting away this time!” their leader shouted, the moon glinting off the silver stake in his hand.

Killed in Hiding by Marie Norman

"Keep away from the bloody windows," she pulled the boy away, the blinds twanged as he released them.
"Fuck off," he twisted away from her.
"There's snipers out there. You know what they are, don't you?"
He glared at her.
"Sorry, did I hurt you?" She felt sorry for the little toe rag. It wasn't his fault they were in this mess.
Then there was a crack of glass as the window shattered, and a sharp pain in the side of her head. She and the boy stared at one another. He was a rabbit caught in headlights; like a mirage in her sudden swimming vision.

Then he was alone.

FAMILY GAMES by Paul Beckman

My brother and I played “Blink” growing up. We’d start the game by standing back to back and stepping off five paces. Then we’d turn around and stare into each other’s eyes until one of us blinked. Next, if neither blinked, we’d move forward a step and do it again until finally we were only inches apart staring while complaining of the other’s bad breathe.

Our parents often played “Silence”. They could be sitting next to each other at dinner or family function and not speak a word. Ask them why they weren’t talking to each other and you got the ‘fish eye’. Why the ‘fish eye’? It was easier to make the ‘fish eye’ than to remember why they weren’t talking--that’s why.

Betrayal by J.P. Royan

The moonlight bathed the courtyard. Garth silently crept up on his mark, stiletto slipping down his sleeve into his open palm. The lord sat facing the gates expectantly. She's not coming Garth knew.

He closed in on his prey, his pay day. Shifting to attack he noticed beneath the lord a dark pool. He sniffed, the unmistakable scent of blood on the air. The smell of betrayal! Like lightening he moved to the side as two bolts thudded into the lord's corpse. Rolling to a crouch behind a wall, throwing knives in hand, Garth snarled. "Slowly, these two I'll kill slowly!"

Left Sock Murderer by D.S. Scot

Did I ever tell you why they called me the “Left Sock Murderer?" It’s a weird name, I know, but there’s a reason. Before I kill someone I take their left sock and gag them with it. Well, when I got to my last victim I got careless and didn’t pay enough attention. I kidnapped the guy but he stayed quiet. I guess he was in shock. Anyway, I would have gotten away with it but he finally screamed. I tried to shut him up but it was too late. That stupid son of a bitch was wearing flip flops!

The Ghost of King Halgor the Stubborn by Mandy Dowson

This crumbling ruin was once the stronghold of King Halgor the Stubborn. When the torrents of rain came beating upon the earth, and the ground split open like the hungry maw of a giant from the legends of old, King Halgor stood fast and refused to leave his keep. When the dust settled, and the villagers returned, they discovered that most of the solid stronghold had folded into the sea and sunk without trace, leaving behind one tower, lonely and haunted.
Steeped in memories and soaked in superstition, it still stands, a humble sentinel, with ghosts its only occupants. Some say the King was swept out to sea with the rest of his keep, still sitting astride his golden throne. Others say his restless spirit climbs the steps of the tower, walks the surrounding lands, leading the unwary to their deaths over the jagged cliffs.
I never believed in ghosts. I never thought of them as real. Not the sheets and clanking chains type of ghosts, and certainly not the transparent spectres which now haunt my memory every bit as much as they ever haunted that ruined and rotting old keep. Now I know.

Let me tell you my story...

The black dog by Francine Samuel

Once upon a time, in a far away forest, lived a young couple. Every day, he left early for work, coming back late. His wife would hang a lantern at the window to guide him but he was so worried leaving her alone, he bought a black dog to guard her.
The black dog loved her at first sight. Jealous, he knocked over the lantern, extinguishing its light.
She ran out, calling for her husband, now lost. It is said their ghosts still wander the night, searching for each other.
The black dog? no one knows what became of him.

Dessert by Nicky White

“Dinner was delicious, thank you.” Nicolette gives a warm smile, her hazel eyes twinkling from the flicker of the candle light.
Stuart nods his head but says nothing.
The door swings open as the butler enters the dining room.
He gives Stuart a knowing smile as he approaches the table with a silver tray.
Nicolette takes notice of the fruit, ice cream, chocolate, and whipped cream.
“This looks delicious.” her mouth waters.
“This is not for you.” Stuart says with a wicked grin.
Nicolette pouts, “But why not? Dessert is the best part.”
“Oh but Sweetheart, you are the dessert.”

The Stabbings by Jonathan Hill

He was ruthlessly efficient. In it went, out it came. Job done.

In most cases, the victims never even saw him coming. Stab, stab, stab. Cutting through skin as if it were butter left out of the fridge, forgotten.

He didn’t often see blood, but the speed with which he moved on to his next victim meant that his eyes didn’t linger for long on the point of penetration. When he did catch a glimpse of red, though, he looked at it without bother, unblinking.

And every victim heard the same final words called. “Next one for the flu jab!”

Coyote Ugly by Kristina Canady

Tossed with sleep and dreams too hot to bear, I exasperatedly throw back the covers.

Dark eyes and devilish good looks plague me. One day, endeavours to ride the man-whore of a bartender from the local bar until the birds sing will be had.
Splashing cold water on my face, I head back to bed only to realize that my dreams may not be so hypothetical.
Peering over the bunched sheets in anticipation, the glare of a balding head stares back.
Damn the drink that has landed the bar-fly accountant in my duvet whilst making me think it was another.

Disbe-leaf by Matthew Drzymala

Father Whitworth O'Grady growled incandescently. How dare the local newspaper accuse him of stealing leaves. What kind of man in his forties painted leaves and splodged them onto paper to make colourful leafy collages?

He was a priest. A respected pillar of the community. Such wild accusations could belittle all the good work that he had done in the small village.

He looked up. The evening was cold but the headlines of the day had stoked his boiling temper.

"Scurrilous allegations," he mumbled as he stuffed a handful of leaves into a bin bag before setting off for home.

At the Cemetery by Jolie Shanoian

At the Cemetery there is a large wrought iron fence that stretches the length of the whole hill. A long driveway takes us to the gate.

The mortician is standing at the gate to greet my mother and I upon our arrival.

There are many grave stones of all shapes and sizes.

At the far end of the cemetery there is a mausoleum that is where my mother and I are going.

The mortician leads the way and takes us through heavy double doors that lead through many rooms and a maze of corridors. It is deathly quiet.

We exit the mausoleum; we are now at the top of the hill.

From the cemetery you can see all around the valley below.

My mother is carrying white roses with her today. We put them on a very special grave. It is my father’s, he died last year.

The mortician looks on as my mother places the roses on the grave.

It will be night soon. My mother and I thank the mortician. He says he will pick her up at 8:00.

We wave as we drive back through the cemetery gates.

Many hands wave back.

The End 

Painful Parodies VII! Chris Bailey Conquers Michael Bay!

There I was, living out my life in peace. Away from humanities grasp and far from trouble. Then like a flash bang grenade Scarlett hit me with the line. "We need to talk." Long story short, we broke up. I gave her a good bye present and we went our separate ways. Though after a bite from the black widow spider I gave her, I doubt she made it off the island. How's that for irony.

All alone on the Island, I had seemingly lost my way and my slender waist...

Lost and alone, I was in a perpetual state of self loathing. That is, until I switched on the television and witnessed a travesty! A Michael Bay film titled Transformers! After having fond memories of all things Cybertron, this diabolical version of my childhood favourite filled me with a rage long since forgotten. Well since I eliminated E.L. James.

I spent four months solid, in the gym working myself back to a reasonable shape. It's safe to say I was pleased with the results...

I messaged Eva Mendes and told her I was coming home. She was over the moon, I'm guessing it was because she had broken things off with that moody bastard, Ryan Gosling. She also informed me that Jeremy Clarkson was no longer president.

Here's a picture of me with the current president ...

Unfortunately, I found that Obama (in charge for the second time) and Michael Bay were working together. This didn't go well and I soon took charge of America once more, via a hulk smash. I'm sorry for that Barrack, get well soon.

Rather than jumping straight into another fight, I decided to do some research. So off I went to the studio, so I could witness the newest piece of shit in the making.

Here's what I saw...

I don't know what that is but I wasn't impressed. I sneakily went and stood next to Michael and some funny looking gimp...

I don't know who he is but I heard Michael say this: "We may be wankers Shia, but we're going to be rich wankers."

Enough is enough! I pace over and slap Michael Bay on the back of the head, like the naughty child he is and he pounces up in anger. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing on the set of my shit movie?"

"I'm Chris Bailey. President Bailey to you small child!"

"Listen, I had a deal with Obama, I can ruin anything I want! I can do anything! I am the unstoppable Michael Bay! I must create BAYHEM!"

Right then and there, I wanted to crush him into tiny pieces. Then I thought, maybe not this time. Maybe I have grown as a person.

"I'll tell you what, if you stick your head inside the mouth of that conveniently placed crocodile and survive, I'll leave you alone to make your trash. Deal?"

"Fine! I'm Michael Bay and I'm unstoppable! I must create BAYHEM!"

"That's not an actual word Michael and saying over and over again, doesn't make it so."

Here's the last picture of Michael Bay with his head still attached to his body...

It's safe to say, he will not be returning for Transformers 12 and like Kim Kardashians ass, the whole thing was over rated and underwhelming. Though his girl-like squeal did amuse. Michael Bay felt pain and I gained the favour of all those millions who hated his movies.

Suddenly, my phone rings to the tone of 'Bad boys, bad boys, what ya gonna do.' And it's Megan Fox. I consider answering until I realise that Eva Mendes is already waiting.

The Weekly Round-Down. (No.16)

Happy Friday people! This week I grew antlers, got beat at pool and travelled back in time. And this was all before Monday.

It's true, during a lovely trip to Kirkham for a hot beverage with Eilis, she gleefully captured a picture of me, which appeared to show antlers popping out of my luscious hair. I soon began to fidget and yes I checked ... these were NOT devil horns. Speaking of that day, I discovered a new fruit juice. Now try to contain your excitement, this wasn't any ordinary fruit juice. This was the best fruit juice ever! And it has the best name ... It's called Naked juice. 

On my way to Nan's after work on Sunday, I saw the little devil, walking up the street looking for trouble. We ended up going to the pub for a quick half before tea. Inside this grim looking establishment was a pool table. Now as you're all aware, much to Nan's chagrin, I dominate her at cards constantly. So she's been telling me that she'll beat me at pool for ages. So we had three games in total. The first game, I was a little rusty and potted four of Nan's balls for her, causing her to win. The second game I dominated once more, six-balling her. The third and final game ... I couldn't have won if I had all day. The woman literally just hit the balls as hard as she could, without aim! And yet, they all seemed to spiral in. Fluke doesn't begin to describe it. It isn't over. And I later dominated at cards.

In between all these events, I somehow found the time to establish a worm hole with enough stability, that it could transfer matter successfully. So I travelled back to the 70's. It was great fun, yet I behaved myself and the only thing I 'tripped' over was gravity. I also managed to release my books to huge success. Here's a picture of The Talon Strands cover ...

Speaking of the Talon Strand, I'd like to talk about it a little bit. First off, it follows five characters - Sam Shaw, Sarah Darlington, Jane Nixon, Mason Butler and Jacob Talon. The first four made appearances in the first book. Now, I'm still sticking with my word, that it is NOT a sequel. It is merely set in the same universe and is a story about those whose lives were affected by the events of the first book. I feel that it is more grounded and more of a story than Maybe, Misery. Whereas Maybe, Misery was a rampage of sex and violence, The Talon Strand is more of an adventure.

Also a few points keep cropping up in my reviews. 1. Too much sex and 2. The fact that it isn't in chronological order. Now, I'd like to address these points. Talon was a man very much in his prime and as far as I'm concerned the amount of sex didn't take away from the story. However there is only one sex scene in the entire second book. This was NOT intentional. I cannot stress that enough. I had no intentions of dialling it down, it is just a different story and it isn't needed. Secondly, a few people have shown issues with the order. The thing is, it was written in that order. If I'd have published it in chronological order, it would have been worse. If you consider that Talon is writing this book and looking back on his life, I liked the fact that in the midst of disaster, he looked back at a happier time ... for example, the happy chapter Serenity being placed right before the end. Despite that though, I guess I can see how some people got confused and this has lead me to shuffle the Talon Strand into chronological order. Purely because, if people were getting confused at one character jumping back and forth through time, imagine five characters. 

Anyway ... good news! As of today (Tuesday). I have received the last drabble for the 20th edition of story time! *Everyone claps* I told you I was determined. There are some great stories in there for you all too enjoy from some great writers. 

I've started watching True Detectives ... I know, I'm late to the party. It took me like two episodes to get in to it, but it's really quite good. You should check it out. Also this week saw the release of Guardians of the Galaxy! I've already watched it two more times. If you haven't seen it, finish reading this post and then go and watch it straight away! You can thank me later. 

I haven't done any writing at all this week, which is concerning ... I have written a few drabbles and poems so I guess that counts. I never seem to have the time to just sit and write, well this past week at least. (Thursday) ... That was a unintentional lie, I wrote some of Beating Hearts as well.

I have also decided that after Saturday Maybe, Misery will no longer be free. Now, this is purely because I have nothing to give away at takeovers and events. I have been giving away signed paperbacks ... and I don't mind this, though it's still weird signing books. But it's an expensive business doing that all the time. In my defence, it has been free for a long time and at least now, I have something (else) to give away.

As of today, I earned one of my most recent nicknames, The Flash. I awoke late for work, which hasn't happened in ages. The time was 05:33 and the bus to my work arrived at 05:49 and that's with a 9 minute walk to the bus stop. After a sprint to get ready and a short fast paced run, I just made it.

Anyway, it should be a good but busy week ahead. I hope you all have a lovely weekend, here is the top 15...

(Lwp)
1. (1) Shadows – Lindsey Stirling
2. (2) Rebuild – Son Lux
3. (3) Stars Align – Lindsey Stirling
4. (5) One Month Off – Bloc Party
5. (n/a) Maybe, Misery – Quiet Drive
6. (4) Red – CombiChrist
7. (n/a) Ex-Creations – Fall Of Troy
8. (6) Metric – Black Sheep
9. (n/a) Crystalline – Bjork
10. (7) Machination – Nothing Face  
11. (n/a) Machine – Regina Spektor
12. (8) Comanche – In This Moment
13. (9) End of an Empire – Celldweller
14. (10) For You – Endo
15. (14) Haze – KoRn