Category: Humor Publisher: Greenteeth Multi Media
Type: Fiction
Copyright: Nov 23, 2012
Blod Ties - Fantasy, Romance. Romantasy? A bit of whimsy for the weekend. A naive British tourist John Gormley takes a holiday in the ancient, remote kingdom of Perarboria. He does not suspect that his holiday love affair with a local beauty is destined to last FOREVER. (currently being revised for republication)
Presented as a free mini book, Blod Ties can be read online as a digital flipbook. This is a really good way to read long documents online and provides a much more pleasant experience than a long story presented in a scrolling page.
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Excerpt
Chapter 1
The boys in the gang did not understand me, after all we had been going on holidays together for years, people dropping in and out according to the state of their love life at the time, but a solid nucleus of the group always remaining. We had reached the stage though where three - zero loomed large on the horizon of all our lives and suddenly it struck me that I was trying to hold onto my teens. This sad, arrested adolescent tendency to run with the pack masked a fear of growing up and accepting responsibility for my own destiny, Mass drunkenness, rude but unfunny T - shirts, projectile vomiting and boasting about conquests of equally drunken girls when all that had really happened after the pairing off was a few inept kisses and a mutual falling into stupefied sleep did not seem to hold any charms any more.
Although the gang were shocked when one night in late winter as travel plans were being made I announced that I would not be joining the group, my mind was set.
"You've got a girl," was the general opinion, but I was not seeing anybody seriously. My excuse, when I saw fit to make it, was only partially true. Yes I did want something different, something more from my vacation. It had started to worry me that of all the places I had visited around the Mediterranean coast only the bars and clubs were remembered and their ambience was totally portable, like McDonald's food or Budweiser beer, resort bars are the same wherever you go. There are a few acknowledgements to local culture but the basic product is the same The various towns and nations had made no impression at all and sometimes it felt as if I had not even known where I was whilst there. That had been the case for almost a decade, from Ayia Nap to Ibiza. The same rules applied with girls too, I could not remember their names let along what they looked like. One Swedish girl called Astrid or Inge or something was stuck in my memory but only because of her prodigious chest, like two balloons filled with warm water. A good forty - five per cent of them had been dancing and jiggling above the neckline of her crop top when we met. The nearest I came to actually penetrating her was when I threw up into her cleavage. And that was the story of my life really.
Something inside me had changed, though I still laughed when such episodes were recalled around our favourite corner table in the pub it now seemed sad and embarrassing to have been part of it all.
The boys did not want to hear that our established lifestyle had become distasteful to on of the senior members but that information was not all I held back from them. A few months before I had become quite friendly with a new maintenance man at the company I worked for. The office girls called him Randy Andy and though he seemed a loner he certainly received a lot of attention from women. Naturally in my conversations with Andrew or Drew as he liked to be known the subject of holiday destinations came up. He told me he preferred travelling alone to running with the crowd and chose destinations that were off the beaten track.
"I turn up on my own, play the pinball machines, lounge around by the pool reading and building a tan and by day three I am surrounded by pillow candy."
And like a novice I asked did he have any magic chat up lines to share.
"Silence mate," he told me. "Never seek company, never look like you are trying. Desperation is a big turnoff. No matter how cool they seem when you practice in the mirror every chat up line in the book comes across like "Fuck me now, please." You keep your mouth closed, act as if being alone is the coolest thing in the world and you will pull. It is down to a fatal flaw in the psyche of every intelligent female. The less you say the more they want to know. And he provided me with the full theory of being a mysterious lone traveller which is apparently to surest way to pull anywhere in the world.
This has a lot to recommend it but draws the reader in a bit too slowly. It could start with a short, bold, impact statement. i.e. "The boys in the gang were really beginning to boil my piss." Just a suggestion of course.
Keep up the good work.
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