It has been one of those days. My server died (blocking access to my novels) and my patio door started pouring in rain. Of course I am here alone. This type of thing NEVER happens when my husband is home.
It may be risky attempting to blog, but what do I have to lose?
I am simply going to share a few lines of ‘Dead of July’, my upcoming novel. What can go wrong? Although my book is a paranormal thriller, there are one or two amusing moments in it. This is one of them. If you were around for the 1982 World Cup you will appreciate this.
The Royal Highland Gunners
Les was in the bar, watching the game with his Scottish friends and fellow soldiers. Les and his friend, Graham, hoped that Brazil would beat Scotland and go through to the finals. Brazil had talent and style, not to mention some of the best players in the world. Cheering for Brazil and not the Scottish team in the company of a crowd of drunken Scotsmen was not a good idea. Les and Graham learned that the hard way.
The highlight of the night occurred when they cheered after Oscar scored the second goal for Brazil. I never heard the offensive “cheer” because I was chatting and giggling with the ladies. We had no idea why Les and Graham sprinted past us as though running for their lives. All we knew was a dozen or so drunken Scotsmen, who were as mad as hell because someone had the NERVE to cheer when Brazil had scored a Goal against Scotland, were following them at great speed.
The words coming out of the mouths of the members of the angry mob were indistinguishable and guttural grunts rather than the English (or should I say Scottish?) language. To myself and the other ladies watching these antics, it was hysterical. We laughed, wondering what would happen next. The angry mob returned a couple of minutes later, red-faced and a little disheveled, and went back to the bar. They would probably have chased the two disrespectful black men for much longer, but watching the rest of the game was more important. Les and Graham crept sheepishly back into the room a couple of minutes later.
We heard more good-natured Scottish threats about what would happen if they “did no keep their mouths shut,” but the rest of the night passed without incident. Les was very gracious when Brazil won 4-1. He didn’t gloat until we got into our little car and drove home. “I really thought they were going to hurt me,” he said and we both laughed. A drunken Scotsman could be a dangerous thing, especially when it involved football.
“It’s a good thing you’re so tall,” I told him, “or you may have been the recipient of one of their famous ‘Glasgow handshakes’” For those of you who don’t know, a Glasgow handshake is when someone head butts you.
I started my writing career with two short stories, which are still available on Amazon. Once ‘Dead of July’ is published, I will take these stories down and re-edit them. Yes, I can spot the mistakes. I would make a much better job of writing them now, but they kick started my career and for that I am grateful.
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When I say this book will ‘knock your socks off’ I really mean it.