Sods Law

 It occurred to me. In fact it's occurred to me several times in the last year that I spent almost nine months writing, and editing what I believe to be the best book I've ever written in a particular genre (weird English humour), and yet I never actually got round to advertising it. 

    So I finally got round to it. I've just spent the last couple of days editing it and fixing the few mistakes I should have spotted the last time, and uploaded the new version at last. I'll be making it free for a week, in case anyone wants to have a look.

    Here's a snippet-ette.

‘I am a policeman,’ the man said patiently despite the barely concealed agitation in his eyes. ‘Constable Flounder, and I —,’ but got no further as something huge flashed at lightening speed from the extreme right side of Arnold’s vision.

   The something was a hand - a very large hand, and it was now encircling the man’s neck. It was not a hand Arnold recognised and his eyes fixed on its long fingers, their length and girth easily sufficient to crush the man’s spine. Furthermore, those fingers were currently squeezing with wrathful vigour. Arnold looked past the hand with interest and onto a pulsating the arm, then slowly towards the body whence it originated. He was unable to stifle the gasp.

   Never before had he seen such a face. It was a woman, possibly, a virago of a woman equally as powerful as her arm. High cheekbones almost pierced the skin as jaws laden with brilliant white fangs ground nauseatingly together. Her eyes, if it really was a she, were black and lifeless while from her throat a low guttural groaning denoted either imminent asphyxiation or a bizarre form of laughter. From the heels of her Doc Marten boots to the top of her masculine haircut she must have been at least six feet tall. And every inch of it was muscle as displayed through the skin tight jeans and short sleeved t-shirt tautly stretched over a broad bosom-less chest.

   ‘No, Martha,’ said a voice. This time it was a voice Arnold did know, but such was his mesmerisation that several seconds passed before he realised it had come from Doris. ‘Don’t hurt him. At least until we find out why he’s bullying my Arnold.’

   Reluctantly the woman lessened her grip on the man allowing him to sink breathlessly to the ground until the same hand plucked at his collar and jerked him back up again where he hung limply, apparently happy just to breath.

   ‘Martha,’ said the woman turning to Arnold, her eyes gaining some animation and further terrifying him. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. How she could hold the policeman without any obvious effort was causing him to reevaluate just what strength really was. He was no weakling but this display of raw power was distinctly unnerving, and perhaps that was the object of the exercise. The man fell to his knees as the woman dropped him with disdain and with one hand plucked a small plastic bag from her pocket and rolled a cigarette in under twenty seconds. It was the giant stud piercing her tongue that captured his attention as she licked the edges. The tiny silver skull seemed to gaze despairingly at him as it disappeared back into that tooth laden maw.

   ‘I...really...am...a...policeman,’ the man groaned in one long undulating breath. ‘We were just having.’

   ‘Shut yer yap,’ Martha commanded in a tone of voice even Arnold’s wouldn’t have messed with.

   ‘Arnold,’ Doris’s voice this time was a little less assured, ‘is he a policeman?’ Arnold nodded uncertainly. ‘This is Martha from my evening class, we were walking home when she saw you, and offered to help.’ Arnold smiled uneasily, injecting gratitude into his eyes, suspecting that a single misspoken word might easily result in a broken nose.

   ‘Where’s yer ID?’ Martha peered down at the still shaking man who plucked something from his pocket and proffered it with quivering hands. Perhaps used to seeing such documents the woman nodded and spat. Whether she was spitting at it, or just evacuating a strand of tobacco from her teeth Arnold had no idea, for a moment later she snarled. ‘Total crap,’ she said, dismissing the man. ‘You got me number Dor’, just call if you want me.’ The lanky figure strode away, and from around the corner a pitiful yelp indicated a close encounter with the neighbourhood pit bull or some other unfortunate not getting out her way quickly enough.