My way

Noddy raised his mug for another sip. Valhalla regulars had their own skull beer mugs, kept behind the bar and clearly marked with the non de plume Dirk had assigned when he christened them a regular. Although sometimes bottles had to be used instead, when these were being disinfected.

“Next thing, the club empties. Must have been fifteen, sixteen okes pouring out onto the street. And the big mother who owns the place, and the restaurant next door – you all know the dude, long black ponytail, broken nose staggering all over one of those faces you just want to hit – he walks up to me. Sticks his cheesy grin right in my face. I could smell what he had for breakfast, know what I mean? And I swear, he fucking growled at me.” He drained the last of his drink. “Whose round?”

Janine was already there, sliding beers along the bar. Noddy reached for her tattooed arm but she was too fast, gliding across the room after throwing a significant look in Morag’s direction.

Thirst slaked, Dirk carried on. “So I ask him, make out, why’d he lay into Mick like that, for no reason. And he schemes ‘Because he hit me with a pool cue. And when my bouncers pulled him off, he called me a bitch.’”

Noddy had to laugh aloud at that. It was typical of Mick’s less than civil attitude to life. He had a habit of initiating chaos wherever he went. Like Sid Vicious reborn.

To keep people entertained while we all struggle to find our feet in a world suddenly flipped upside down – I’m still releasing Dancing in Valhalla in weekly installments.

Read them each week on FaceBook or WordPress. Receive notifications via Twitter, Tumblr, GoodReads, or Amazon.

No charge. No obligation. Read for free. Share with your friends.

Cheers.

Full published version includes 13 twisted tales of music, magick, mayhem & murder.

Some torn from headlines in sunny South Africa where, for many, these are part of everyday life.

Shop for shrunken heads in a village that time forgot.

Witness an ancient ritual passed down from the Aztecs through Jack the Ripper to modern-day London.

Savour the sweet taste of revenge in a French restaurant.

And sit in on the Grim Reaper’s disciplinary hearing.

Relax and enjoy an assortment of characters nearly as twisted as the endings of these 13 tales of psychological suspense.

Physical paperback copies are available from BookDealers of Rivonia – 40 Wessel Road, Rivonia, Sandton.

And from Snow Lion in 7th Street, Melville.