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Sunday, 15 July 2012

A bit of Self-publicity and fun!


Tonight's blog is the first few pages of Leap of Faith, my latest humorous, adventure e-book for Young Adults of all ages! It's the first in the Temporal Detective Agency series. The second, Trouble with Swords will be out in October.
I'll be posting a few pages every night for the next week or so to give you a flavour. If you like it, then please buy it on Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.com, or Barnes & Noble.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Temporal-Detective-Agency-Series-ebook/dp/B007XYIFO4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1342382903&sr=1-1
or
http://www.amazon.com/Temporal-Detective-Agency-Series-ebook/dp/B007XYIFO4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1342382903&sr=1-1

Hope you enjoy it and rest assured I'll be posting my usual blog posts as well.
Blog on, Dudes!


LEAP OF FAITH



A bit at the front
The Temporal Detective Agency

            Camelot started to fizzle out when Arthur and the lovely Merlin went off to the island of Avalon for an extended honeymoon. Bless!
Okay, so Merlin was a woman…Yawn! …and the fantastic disguise I helped her with every day fooled the whole of Camelot for years, including a very confused Arthur. But that’s another story and this one’s about me and my friends in the Agency.
Let’s start at the beginning.
The Knights of the rather worm-eaten Round Table drifted off one by one until there was no one capable of helping Arthur look after the country, and even my friend Galahad was too busy setting up his Olé Grill restaurant chain to be a politician. Of the others, Tristan moved to Cornwall and opened up a tea shop with scones to die for; Iolanthe, Bors, and Mordred were busy inventing a machine that could calculate; Gawain vanished one day on one of his adventures chasing the evil Black Knight; while others just got lost and were never seen again. I even heard Guinevere went back to her father’s place in North Wales with a besotted Lancelot hanging round her like a faithful puppy. though to be honest there wasn’t much point in staying round Camelot any more.
So we didn’t.
The day after Merlin left, my cousin Unita (Neets to me), Marlene, and I started the Temporal Detective Agency, opening for business in the wizard’s old cave. We reckoned it was only right and proper considering we were Merl’s last apprentices and Marlene was her younger sister. I say younger, but she was thirty if she was a day and getting really old and frumpy.
I suppose we could have moved to another part of Britain and opened up shop, but as we’d done a bit of time traveling with Merl and sort of inherited her Time Portal along with the cave, we decided to base ourselves in the 21st century where the cases promised to be more interesting than just finding missing pets. We also suspected the toilets would be much better than smelly holes in the ground half full of used leaves and wood ash. We even persuaded Galahad to join us so we could use the Olé Grill restaurant as a cover and besides, he made great coffee.
What we found was that the sanitation and smells certainly improved, but the cases were still mostly dull because good, interesting crimes are few and far between, if not actually nonexistent. Business was pretty slow, but the retrieved felines kept Neets’s cats company and the odd goldfish kept them from getting hungry. We even left business cards in carefully selected centuries knowing that Temporal would only mean On Time to most people. After all, who on earth really believes in time travel, but the only improvement was that we were asked to find a pet saber-toothed tiger and the odd snake.
Neets and I thought it might be because we sounded a bit old-fashioned coming as we did from fifteen hundred years in the past, so Marlene enrolled us into college until we learned how to fit in and like rap music. No one knew where we came from, of course, but people seemed to sense we were slightly older than them by a few hundred years, and that can be quite off-putting to a young lad who thinks his luck’s in. Still we did our best.
Nothing changed much until one day...

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