♠ Back at the funny farm ♠

Morag had almost reached the end of the alley when a silhouette turned in from the street. She squinted her eyes as the African sun, still rising on its daily pilgrimage, created a halo around its head. All she could see at first was a long white dress.

“Ye know Ah don’t like it when ye smoke, darlin’. That stuff’ll kill ye.”

The long white dress became a hospital gown, connected to a pair of Docs by way of two scrawny hairy shins. But it was Mick’s head that drew her attention, wrapped in brilliant white bandages still shimmering in the morning haze.

“What do ye think? Will it catch on?” Mick turned in a slow circle, revealing the open back of his gown and his absent underwear.

Morag dropped her cigarette and crushed it without thinking. “When did you get out?”

Mick smiled. He had moved out of the sun’s glare, so she could see the blackened teeth that had replaced his once-charming grin. He still swaggered with his old devil-may-care attitude, but she doubted whether even the devil really cared anymore.

“Doesn’t sound like ye’re overflowing with joy at mah resurrection, darlin’. Didn’t ye miss me just a wee bit?”

“Of course. Welcome back. It’s, yeah, really good to see you again.”

Mick stepped closer. “That’s more like it. Now let’s see how much ye missed me.”

Morag kept her knife in the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She knew that Mick knew that. There was no way she could reach it before he reached her. Unless she ran. Was he armed under that ridiculous white gown?

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Read Dancing in Valhalla in weekly installments on FaceBook or WordPress. Receive notifications via Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, GoodReads, or Amazon, where you’ll find the whole book – 13 decadent twisted tales of mystery, music, magick & mayhem.

Download FREE sampler previews of all my books – and some complete short stories – from PCloud. Including the new Burning Books sampler booklet (also available on Kindle Unlimited).

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BURNING BOOKS FUNNY FARM CHALLENGE

Wednesday is World Read Aloud Day. Anyone who posts a video of themselves reading this extract, can claim a FREE copy of any of my books in eBook or Kindle format.

Burning Roses, Dancing in Valhalla, Hard Money, Big Day Out, Tales from the Crying Room, or Let Sleeping Gods Lie.

Use any social media platform. Send me a link, and let me know which book you’d like and how you’d like to receive it (email, messenger, cloud download, etc.). I won’t store your details, or bother you with spam afterwards. That’s not how I roll.

Extra points will be awarded for creative cosplay. Feel free to dress accordingly.

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Cheers.

♠ I don’t need no doctor ♠

“You want me to go first?” Dirk held the hospital door open for Janine. “It’s the room at the end of the corridor,” he indicated with his beard.

She shrugged. “I don’t know if that will help. I still don’t know what I’m going to say. How I’m going to convince him to let it go this time, no reprisals.”

He put an arm around her shoulder and led her slowly towards the end of the corridor. “We can’t go in there with a plan. You know what he’s like. He hates other people having plans, make out? Agendas. If he thinks we’ve been conspiring against him, I scheme it’ll blow up in our faces. So just say what comes naturally, know what I mean?”

“Strangely, I do.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks, boss man. Ok, let’s do this.”

Dirk removed his arm and opened the door. Janine took a deep breath and stepped into the tiny room, smile fading as she scanned from the door to the window and back again to the empty bed. She turned to Dirk.

“Where is he?”

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Read Dancing in Valhalla in weekly installments on FaceBook or WordPress. Receive notifications via Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, GoodReads, or Amazon, where you’ll find the whole book – 13 decadent twisted tales of mystery, music, magick & mayhem.

Download FREE sampler previews of all my books – and some complete short stories – from PCloud. Including the new Burning Books sampler booklet (also available on Kindle Unlimited).

No charge. No obligation. No sign-in. Read for free. Share with your friends.

⛥⛥

“1982 arrived and with it came the Exploited and the new wave of British and soon to be joined by US Punk rock. Gone was the creativity and experimental art school pop culture Punk Rock. The new musik was far more aggressive and simpler in many ways than the Punk of 77 England.”

Want to read more? Check out Incranium by Jon-Pat Myers, now available across the internet, including Amazon.

⛥⛥

Cheers.

♠ Birthday card ♠

Morag used the cushioned heel of her black Doc Martens to crush the dying embers of the cancer-stick. She couldn’t believe she had started again. Nearly a year without so much as a drunken drag of someone else’s. Now she had a pack of nineteen Pall Mall Red in her pocket.

All the old excuses ran through her head. They would calm her nerves. Help her think. Make her look grown-up and sophisticated.

She snorted, kicking the stompie towards the plastic dustbins that were her only companions in this alley running between two blocks of flats. How’s that for sophisticated? Still, it’s not as if she had to worry about decreasing her life span. Not now. So why not light the odd cigarette?

Mick had hated them. Even the smell of them on her clothes, or in her hair. The most rabid ex-smoker she had ever known. Odd, she thought, for someone who ran a nightclub and sold drugs under the counter.

A flash of movement caught her eye. There, on the lid of the nearest dustbin.

“Hello, psycho bird. Where did you come from?”

Spike squawked and fluttered his wings, leaning forward to get his point across.

“Sorry, boy. No food here. You’ve got the wrong person.”

This explanation didn’t work. The black and white chatter continued.

Morag shrugged. “Why hang around here if there’s no food? Go find your… what is he? Your pet, I suppose?” She laughed. “Go find him. He’s always got food stashed away for you, hasn’t he?”

Spike didn’t like this idea. If anything, his squawking increased in both volume and urgency. He hopped from one dustbin to another further away, turning back as if urging her to follow him.

“No time to play with you, little man. And I’m going this way, not that way. Although if I had wings, like you, I could go any way I wanted.” Her smile faded. She looked at the bird seriously. “That’s what I need. Wings. To fly away. Far away. To Wednesday.”

Spike cocked his head to one side, considering her words. They shared a silent moment of contemplation.

“Today’s my birthday, did you know that? You didn’t, did you? Nobody knows. Nobody remembers. So that can be our little secret.”

In response, Spike hopped to the next dustbin and squawked louder than ever.

Morag shook her head. “Chill, bird.” She rubbed her hands together, looking up at the fire escape hanging rusted, black and inviting above them. “Today everything changes. Money will do instead of wings. I’ll tell Noddy you were asking for him.” She turned her back on her avian companion and set off up the alley, reaching in her pocket for another cigarette.

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Read Dancing in Valhalla in weekly installments on FaceBook or WordPress. Receive notifications via Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, GoodReads, or Amazon, where you’ll find the whole book – 13 decadent twisted tales of mystery, music, magick & mayhem.

Download FREE sampler previews of all my books – and some complete short stories – from PCloud. Including the new Burning Books sampler booklet (also available on Kindle Unlimited).

No charge. No obligation. No sign-in. Read for free. Share with your friends.

⛥⛥

“I actually roadied for Motorhead for two gigs but those guys were absolutely fucking crazy and with ice on the steps and no sleep for weeks I thought it better to cut my career short before I dropped an amp stack and got my head kicked in by the Hells Angels.”

Want to read more? Check out Incranium by Jon-Pat Myers, now available across the internet, including Amazon.

⛥⛥

Cheers.

♠ Wicked love ♠

“I can still ride. We could have taken your bike. The hospital isn’t far.”

Dirk slowed the Dodge and indicated a left turn. “Not the way things have been going lately. I’m not having that on my conscience, Janine, make out?”

“Alright. Thanks. I think.”

They rode in silence till the next traffic light.

“I blame the bouncers.”

“What now?” Dirk pulled off as the light turned green.

“Why didn’t they step in? Before it started? Must have been obvious what was going to happen when she picked up the pool cue. I mean, isn’t that their job, to anticipate and prevent?”

Dirk grinned. “What? Against one of Mick’s exes? They work for Mick, not me. So they wouldn’t dare. And she’s as mad as he is. Probably scares the crap out of those boys. Maybe that’s why they lasted so long together.” He cast a quick glance sideways. “Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Janine laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m way past being offended by anything you say, boss man. Either of you. Mick’s not as bad as people think.”

Now it was Dirk’s turn to laugh. “Yes, he is. You never knew him. Not really. He was different when you two were together. Even now, when he’s around you, he’s like a better version of himself. Know what I mean?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? I mean, you’ve got nothing to compare him to. You’ve never seen him when you’re not around.” Dirk considered the logic of that statement, decided it made enough sense for him to carry on.

“Wait till you see him now, ek se. He’s changed. Even I don’t recognize him.”

“What do you mean? Brain damage?”

Dirk shook his head. “No. Well, maybe that’s part of it. But it was there before he came off the bike, make out?” His expression darkened, brows lowering as he struggled to find the right words to express himself. “It’s like he’s not there anymore. Not in control. Like someone took a wild animal and caged it inside his skull. I can see it there behind his eyes, pacing back and forth. It’s hurt. Scared and confused. Ready to lash out at anyone who gets too close to it.”

“Him.”

“What?” Dirk’s head jerked to the side, as if he’d forgotten she was there.

“We’re still talking about a human being, no matter what you think. ‘Him.’ Not ‘it’.”

“Ja, ja, whatever…”

⛥⛥

Read Dancing in Valhalla in weekly installments on FaceBook or WordPress. Receive notifications via Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, GoodReads, or Amazon, where you’ll find the whole book – 13 decadent twisted tales of mystery, music, magick & mayhem.

Download FREE sampler previews of all my books – and some complete short stories – from PCloud. Including the new Burning Books sampler booklet (also available on Kindle Unlimited).

No charge. No obligation. No sign-in. Read for free. Share with your friends.

⛥⛥

“I actually roadied for Motorhead for two gigs but those guys were absolutely fucking crazy and with ice on the steps and no sleep for weeks I thought it better to cut my career short before I dropped an amp stack and got my head kicked in by the Hells Angels.”

Want to read more? Check out Incranium by Jon-Pat Myers, now available across the internet, including Amazon.

⛥⛥

Cheers.

♠ Behind blue eyes ♠

Noddy turned to look deep into Janine’s icy blue eyes. “Girlfriend…”

The second slap was more effective, nearly knocking him off his barstool.

“How could you? What were you thinking?”

They were both too stunned to answer.

“You’re lucky Dirk didn’t call the police. You’re lucky you weren’t shot. How could you?”

Noddy slid off the barstool, partly to move closer to Janine but mainly to brace himself in case she wasn’t finished yet. “We’re okay, Girlfriend. It’s alright. But how are you doing? Are you sick?”

Janine gave him the look she reserved for TV evangelists caught in flagrante delicto.

“Don’t change the subject. What happens when Mick hears about this? I’ll have to go visit him now, see if I can smooth this over somehow.”

“What? No. Stay away from him. I’ll work something out.”

Janine’s look hadn’t changed. “How? What can you possibly work out? There’s no reasoning with him, not now, after what just happened. I might be the only person who can get through to him.”

Noddy stepped closer, but she put her hands up to push him away. “Come on, Girlfriend. Let’s get away. The three of us. We’ll hitchhike down to Durban, find somewhere to stay. Or we’ll sleep on the beach, like we did last time.”

Janine flashed a look at Morag. “That’s not going to happen. Not now. You need to grow up, Noddy. It’s time. You need to start taking responsibility for your life.” She took a deep breath. “And others.”

Noddy and Morag looked at one another.

“That’s right. You’re going to be a father.”

⛥⛥

Read Dancing in Valhalla in weekly installments on FaceBook or WordPress. Receive notifications via Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, GoodReads, or Amazon, where you’ll find the whole book – 13 decadent twisted tales of mystery, music, magick & mayhem.

Download FREE sampler previews of all my books – and some complete short stories – from PCloud. Including the new Burning Books sampler booklet (also available on Kindle Unlimited).

No charge. No obligation. No sign-in. Read for free. Share with your friends.

⛥⛥

“I actually roadied for Motorhead for two gigs but those guys were absolutely fucking crazy and with ice on the steps and no sleep for weeks I thought it better to cut my career short before I dropped an amp stack and got my head kicked in by the Hells Angels.”

Want to read more? Check out Incranium by Jon-Pat Myers, now available across the internet, including Amazon.

⛥⛥

Cheers.