Randall’s Ramblings

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Randall’s Ramblings, December 3, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been colder than normal all week. On Saturday morning, we woke up to snow falling. We ended up with just over three inches, which made the morning drive pretty hectic. By the afternoon, the major streets were cleaned but the side streets into housing areas remained snowbound.

Once again there was another decrease in gasoline (petrol) prices this week, with a further three pence shaved off the price to £1.42 a liter. However, with the current exchange rate, the equivalent price of a U.S. gallon dropped eleven cents to $6.80. Meanwhile, diesel dropped a penny a liter to £1.51, but with the exchange rate, this actually led to a decrease of eleven cents a gallon to $7.22.

So far we’ve had a great Xmas market at the local mall. I sold thirty-eight autographed copies of my novels, while Sylvia sold thirty-two of her laminated poetry sheets, thirty-one of her poetry book marks, and four of her poetry books. Let’s hope the second week is as good as this one!

“If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” –Stephen King.  Compliments of https://www.inc.com/glenn-leibowitz/50-quotes-from-famous-authors-that-will-inspire-yo.html.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on December 3rd, the first Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Hryhorii Skovoroda, Ukrainian poet and philosopher; Mary Lamb, British author (Tales from Shakespeare); France Prešeren, Slovenian poet (Krst pri Savici); Green Berry Raum, American lawyer, politician, author, and Brigadier General (Union Army); Joseph Conrad, Polish-English novelist (Lord Jim, Heart of Darkness); Herman Heijermans, Dutch writer (Kamertjeszonde, Diamond City); John Urzidil, Austrian-American writer (Die erbeuteten Frauen); Kate O’Brien, Irish writer (Without My Cloak); Nigel Balchin, English author (Business for Pleasure); F. Sionil José, Filipino novelist (Rosales Saga) and Philippine National Artist for Literature; Franz Josef Degenhardt, German poet and author; Mel Smith, author, actor, and comedian (Morons From Outer Space); and Grace Andreacchi, American author.

Any names familiar to you? There weren’t any for me this week. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I finished hand wrote chapters twenty-two and twenty-three of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. I still have to type them up and post them to the two online subscription writing sites I use.

Reviewers continue to check out my work and provided another seven critiques this week, bringing the total to 426. As always, there are plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

Prince Hussein peered through the branches of the date palms at the two young women. That Shatara is a feisty one. She would make someone a decent wife, but that would ruin my plans for her. He sipped from a glass of tea as he watched them.

“Excuse me, Prince Hussein.”

The prince turned and glanced at the young male servant.

The boy held a letter in a shaking hand. “This came for you a few minutes ago by a special rider.”

The prince took the envelope and waved a hand to dismiss the youth. What’s this? He tore open the letter.

My dear Prince Hussein,

Beware. There are eyes on you, which might make things difficult. Tread carefully so you keep below the National Security Bureau’s radar. Otherwise, you might face the same charge as Hamed Kamal Muhammad bin Haydara of being a destroyer of Islam, who was fortunate to avoid public execution.

My friends and I shall do our utmost to protect you and those around you but do not dally in your efforts to advance Saudi interests at the expense of Yemeni peace and prosperity.

A friend.

Prince Hussein tore the letter into small pieces before wadding them together and shoving it into his pocket. Who is this friend? What does he know about my real plans? He shook his head. I must convince Shatara to sign the document accusing her father of supporting Ansar Allah.

He poured the rest of his tea over the balcony and returned to his office.

More next time.

I’m continuing to work on the new project as a co-author with Michael Maxwell, the author of over thirty novels. The tentative title is The Great Rebellion – Finn Harding Book One.  It’s a romantic alternate history of the American Civil War. I’m currently working on a new chapter four when time permits at the Xmas market.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 26, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been a fairly dry period over the past week. As a result, on Tuesday I was able to clean up a lot of leaves that had fallen but previous rain stopped me from getting outside. On Wednesday, a bit of sun made it an even better day so I put up Christmas lights across the front of the house.

As the week progressed the temperatures temperatures have dropped, with daytime temperature barely breaking 40F (4C) and nighttime going down to 26F (-3C). As I’m typing it’s 32F (0C). I noticed last night none of the hedgehogs inhabiting our property came for their nightly feed. I guess they’ve gone into hibernation.

Once again there was another decrease in gasoline (petrol) prices this week, with a further two pence shaved off the price to £1.45 a liter. However, with the current exchange rate, the equivalent price of a U.S. gallon remained the same at $6.91. Meanwhile, diesel dropped three pence a liter to £1.54, but with the exchange rate, this actually led to a decrease of seven cents a gallon to $7.33.

Here’s the latest inspirational quote for writers: “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” — Benjamin Franklin. Compliments of https://www.inc.com/glenn-leibowitz/50-quotes-from-famous-authors-that-will-inspire-yo.html.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on November 26th, the fourth and final Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Princess Catherine of Portugal, Portuguese princess of King Edward of Portugal and his wife Eleanor of Aragon and writer; Pedro de Peralta y Barnuevo, Peruvian poet (Obras Dramaticas); Theophilus Cibber, English actor and writer; William Cowper, English pre-romantic poet (His Task); Charles-Joseph Panckoucke, French publisher (Mercure de France); Georg Forster, German writer, naturalist (A Voyage Round the World) and revolutionary; Herman Gorter, Dutch socialist and poet (May, Tiny Hero’s Poem); Edmond Fleg[enheimer], Swiss-French author (Ecoute Israel); Franz Jung, German writer and political activist; Albert Dieudonné, French actor and novelist (Backbiters, Napoleon); Eugene Ionesco, Romanian-French playwright (Rhinoceros, Bald Soprano); Eric Sevareid, American author and News correspondent (CBS); Frederik Pohl, American sci-fi author (3 Hugo, Gateway, Bipohl); Paul Rodenko, Dutch poet and author (Stolen Lover); Charles M. Schulz, American cartoonist (Peanuts); Marilynne Robinson, American writer (Gilead); Ethan Russell, American photographer and author (photographed covers for the Beatles, Rolling Stones and The Who); racy Hickman, American sci-fi author (Dragons of Spring Dawning); and Nico Slothouwer, Dutch poet (The Man and His Bag).

Any names familiar to you? There was one for me: Charles M. Schulz. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I finished chapter twenty-one of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2, and posted it to the two online subscription writing sites I use.

Reviewers continue to check out my work and provided another nineteen critiques this week, bringing the total to 419. As always, there are plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

Uzza knocked on the door to Shatara’s room before putting the key in the lock. After opening the door, she pushed it open. Where is she?

Moments later, she heard the toilet flush. Oh.

Shatara entered the room and stopped. “Oh! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That is okay.” Uzza smiled. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“Prince Hussein has given us permission to have our breakfast in the courtyard. We can stay for one hour.” Uzza wrinkled her nose. “Of course, someone will monitor us.” She turned toward the door. “Oh, do not forget your hijab.”

Shatara wrinkled her nose. “If we are just going to be in the courtyard, why must we wear it?”

“You know.” Uzza laughed. “We must protect our modesty from those to whom we are not related.”

Shatara sighed as she placed the white hijab over her head. “Understood. It’s just at home I didn’t have to wear it unless I left the house.” She toyed with the headscarf until her head, neck, and ears were covered. “I’m ready.”

Uzza unlocked the door, and they stepped into the corridor. She pointed to the right. “The stairs to the outside are at the end of the hall.” She walked along the corridor and climbed the stairs.” Cover your eyes—the sun will be bright for you.”

“Yes, thank you.” Shatara pulled the edge of the hijab over her eyes. “Even covering my eyes, it is very bright, and it hurts them.”

“Give me your hand. I’ll lead you to the table, which is protected by the branches of the date palm trees.” Uzza took Shatara’s hand and guided her.

“Oh! I can feel the temperature drop. We must be under the trees.” Shatara uncovered her eyes and glanced around. “What a beautiful courtyard. I love the fountain.”

“The fountain is beautiful but much better when the water is working.” Uzza pointed to a chair. “Please have a seat. I brought the food out earlier, so we’re ready to eat.”

After Shatara sat, she continued to scan the area. “I see there are two guards, but they both appeared to be asleep in their chairs. Their weapons are propped against the wall.”

“Do not tempt fate. If you move toward the wall, they will jump to their feet, grab their weapons and point them at you.”

Shatara grinned. “I was going to ask how easy it would be to climb the wall.”

“Even if the guards were not here and you could climb over it, you still would not be free. Prince Hussein owns the properties on either side of this one and behind it, too.” Uzza pointed to the one over the left wall. “He maintains his office in this building but lives in that one.”

“Have you ever been there?”

Uzza shook her head. “No. I know the prince entertains local dignitaries there, but I’ve never been invited to visit.”

“Hmm.” Shatara studied the wall again. “I am sure I could climb it. As a child, I loved to climb the date palms around our compound and jump onto the wall. I pretended I was climbing a mountain and could see for miles.”

Uzza laughed as she reached for a covered plate. “Let’s eat—I’m hungry.” She lifted the cover. “Shakshouka—one of my favorites.”

“Mine, too.” Shatara smiled. I love how the color of the scrambled eggs is offset by the red tomato sauce. The spicier the shakshouka is, the better for me.”

“I agree.” Uzza gestured toward a covered bowl. “Cook made more masoub to go with it and milk tea for us to drink.”

Shatara loaded a fork with eggs and brought it to her mouth, blowing on the steaming food before taking a tentative bite. “Fantastic!”

“Will you read to me after we eat?” Uzza pushed Shatara’s book across the table.

Shatara’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you get this?”

“While you were in the bathroom, I picked it up. I hope you do not mind.”

“I guess not. But next time, ask me first, okay?”

More next time.

I’m continuing to work on the new project as a co-author with Michael Maxwell, the author of over thirty novels. The tentative title is The Great Rebellion – Finn Harding Book One.  It’s a romantic alternate history of the American Civil War. I recently completed a new chapter three and sent it to Michael for approval, which came quickly. Now, I’m busy with a new chapter four.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 19, 2023

Randall Krzak

At last! After six consecutive days of overcast skies and drizzle or rain, Mother Nature has taken pity on us as there’s a glimmer of sunshine to start today, and at least it’s not raining–although it’s in the forecast. It’s been too wet to get outside and clean up the fallen leaves, so hopefully, we’ll get a couple of consecutive dry days so I can do this as it doesn’t take long for the leaves to start rotting.

The Consumer Price Index dropped again last month, now down to 4.7 percent, which is better than the September rate of 6.3 percent. As with the Fed goal to get inflation down to two percent, the Bank of England wants to do the same for the UK.

There was another decrease in gasoline (petrol) prices this week, with a further two pence shaved off the price to £1.47 a liter. However, with the current exchange rate, the equivalent price of a U.S. gallon rose slightly to $6.91, and increase of three cents. Meanwhile, diesel dropped two pence a liter to £1.57, but with the exchange rate, this actually led to an increase of seven cents a gallon to $7.40.

Global-Thrillers-2015

I received good news yesterday. Ultimate Escalation, which is competing for the 2023 Chanticleer International Global Thriller Book Awards, has move from the slush pile to the long list. There’s still a long way to go in the competition, with the short list, the semi-finals, the finals, the announcement of the seven first in category winners, and the genre grand prize winner.  The final results won’t be announced until 20 April 2024 at the annual Chanticleer Authors’ Conference, but I’ll keep posting as Ultimate Escalation moves through the competition.

“I have been successful probably because I have always realized that I knew nothing about writing and have merely tried to tell an interesting story entertainingly.” — Edgar Rice Burroughs. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on November 19th, the third Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Lieuwe van Aitzema, Dutch historian (Matters of State & War); Mikhail Lomonosov, Russian scholar and poet; Wilhelm Dilthey, German philosopher (Das Leben Schleiermans); Karel van den Oever, Flemish author and poet (Geuzenstad); Fernand Crommelynck, Belgian playwright (Le Cocu Magnificent); Allen Tate, American poet (Mr Pope & Other Poems),; Anna Seghers [Netty Reiling], German author (The 7th Cross); Jack Schaefer, American author (Shane); Luc Tourneir [Christian J. H. Engles] Netherland-Curaçaon poet, artist, and doctor; (Emmanuel) “Emil” Braginsky, Soviet Russian screenwriter (The Irony of Fate); Zygmunt Bauman, Polish-born sociologist (Modernity and the Holocaust); Sharon Olds, American poet (“Stag’s Leap” – Pulitzer Prize for Poetry 2013); Peter Aykroyd, Canadian actor, comedian, and writer (SNL, 1980; PSI Factor); Sam Hamm, American screenwriter (Batman); Charlie Kaufman, American screenwriter (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind); Michael Wilbon, American sports analyst (The Washington Post; Ryukishi07 [real name unknown), Japanese mystery writer (When They Cry series); and Barry Jenkins, American director and writer (Medicine for Melancholy, Moonlight).

Any names familiar to you? There weren’t any for me this time. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I finished chapter twenty of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2, and posted it to the two online subscription writing sites I use.

Reviewers provided another seventeen critiques this week, bringing the total to 400. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

Sear pulled through the arch of the Rashid property and parked underneath an awning near an ornate door. The men climbed out of the Noah, pulling out their luggage.

A young man, dressed in a traditional thobe, bowed toward Sear.” Welcome, Sayyid. I am Parvez, the caretaker and sometimes cook. Sayyid Bashari told me to expect your arrival.” Parvez smiled. “Please, follow me.” He led them inside the two-story, whitewashed building with black trim around the windows.

Sear glanced around as they entered. “Parvez, is anyone else living here right now?”

He shook his head. “With the demise of Sayyid Rashid, I am the only one. Why do you ask?”

“Just a feeling I have.” Sear smiled to alleviate any worries Parvez might have. I think he’s lying—my bullshit meter is on overdrive.

Parvez led them along a narrow corridor devoid of furnishings and fixtures into a large, well-lit divan.  Two red and white sofas and four armchairs filled most of the living room, with several round hand-carved tables and two coffee tables arranged around the seating.

Pervez gestured toward the furniture. “If you will be seated, I shall bring you black tea with mint and qahwa, Arabic coffee. I prepared some Yemeni snacks for you after Sayyid Bashari told me you were coming.”

“Just the tea and coffee, for now, Pervez.” Sear patted his stomach. “It’s not that long since Bashari fed us.”

“As you wish. They will be ready when you are hungry.” He turned and left the room.

After Parvez departed, Sear turned to Wasim and Malik. “What do you think?”

Malik rubbed his chin. “I think he is trying to be friendly, but I do not believe he is sincere and cannot be trusted.”

“I agree.” Wasim smiled. “as the RSO used to say, ‘he’s slimy.’”

Sear chuckled. “My thoughts exactly. We’ll need to keep an eye on him.”

“When we meet with Tarik, we should mention Pervez and have Tarik check him out.” Wasim pursed his lips. “We cannot be too careful.”

Sear nodded. “Agreed. I—”

Pervez returned to the divan, pushing a trolley. He set the tea and coffee service on one of the coffee tables, placing a plate of dates next to it. “I know you said you were not hungry, but in the Arab world, we say dates help to rejuvenate the body.” He turned to Sear. “What would you like to drink?”

“Coffee.” Sear studied the young man. “How long have you worked for the Rashid family?”

Pervez twisted his lips into a smile. “They took me in about three years ago. Before that, I lived with some of the homeless in the old part of the city.” He shrugged. “Without their generosity, I would have joined with Allah as so many of the poor have done.”

He served tea to the brothers. “If there is nothing further you require, I shall return to my duties.” He pointed to an old-fashioned bell on the wall, a gold-colored rope attached to it. “The Rashid family found this on one of their excursions. Pull the cord, and I shall hear it.” He turned and departed.

Wasim stood.

“Here are you going?” A look of amusement creased Sear’s face.

“I am going to wander around our new home. Perhaps, I might learn something of interest.”

Malik stood.

“I supposed you’re going to help your brother?” Sear grinned.

“No. I’m going to find a toilet.”

Both men departed, leaving Sear to his thoughts. Plenty of subterfuge going on. I think I can trust Malik and Wasim, but everyone else bears watching. He poured himself some more coffee, now almost cold.

Twenty minutes later, the brothers returned.

Sear glanced at their faces. “Learn anything?”

Wasim shook his head. “Nothing of any use, but I did overhear Pervez talking to someone on the phone. I could not make most of it out, but he did mention you by name.”

“Hmm. Time for me to wander.” Sear left the divan, wandering through the various hallways and rooms of the property. No sign of Pervez. Where did he go?

Sear turned at the sound of a voice, which seemed to come from above. Is he on the roof? If so, why? He walked along the corridor, checking the rooms. All locked. He tried the final door.

It opened to reveal a set of stairs.

Sear pulled out his pistol and climbed the stairs, one at a time, so he didn’t make any noise. When he reached the roof, he eased another door open and stepped out.

Spotting Pervez heading toward him, Sear ducked behind an air conditioning unit. After Pervez passed his hiding place, Sear stepped out behind him. “Who were you talking to?”

Parvez jumped as he shoved the phone into his pocket. “Uh. No one, Sayyid.”

More next time.

I’m also working on a new project as a co-author with Michael Maxwell, the author of over thirty novels. The tentative title is The Great Rebellion – Finn Harding Book One.  It’s a romantic alternate history of the American Civil War. I recently completed a new chapter two and sent it to Michael for approval, which came quickly. Now, I’m busy with a new chapter three.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 12, 2023

Randall Krzak

Over the past week, daytime temperatures have struggled to reach 50F (10C). The past two mornings, we’ve had ground frost. At the time of writing this, it was 28F (-2C), although there was plenty of sunshine.

In preparation for the local hedgehogs to begin their winter hibernation, we cleaned out the three houses they use in the back yard (garden) and filled them with fresh straw. The hedgehogs still come each night for food and water, but it won’t be long before they settle down for a sleep.

The price of gasoline (petrol) dropped another penny to £1.49 a liter.  With the pound dropping  against the dollar, the equivalent price of a U.S. gallon dropped by twenty-six cents to $6.88. Meanwhile, diesel also dropped another penny to £1.59 a liter, resulting is a fifteen-cent drop to $7.33 a gallon.

“There’s no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.” — Maya Angelou. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on November 12th, the second Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Juana Ines de La Cruz, Mexican poet, nun and feminist (Primero Sueno); Jacobus Bellamy [Zelandus], Dutch poet; John Burke, Irish genealogist (Burke’s Peerage); Elizabeth Cady Stanton, American women’s rights activist, abolitionist and writer; Oskar Panizza, German writer (Das Liebeskonzil); Ben Travers, British playwright; DeWitt Wallace, American publisher who founded Readers Digest; Abraham van Oosten, Dutch poet and author (His Master’s Voice); Hans Werner Richter, German author (Socially Responsible Cinema, Gruppe 47); Harry Blackmun, American lawyer, jurist and 100th Supreme Court Justice (1970-94) who authored the Court’s opinion in Roe v. Wade; Luc Estang [Lucien Bastard], French writer (Stigmates); Pennar Davies, Welsh poet, author and theologian; Roland Barthes, French literary critic (L’Empire des Signer); Johan Polak, Dutch publisher and publicist (Bloom of Decadence); Michael Ende, German fantasy and children’s writer (The Neverending Story); Tonke Dragt, Dutch children’s author (Towers of February); Michael Bishop, American sci-fi author (Nebula, Stolen Faces); Tracy Kidder, American journalist and author (The Soul of a New Machine); Naomi Wolf, American author and feminist; and Damon Galgut, South African playwright and writer (2021 Booker Prize).

Any names familiar to you? There weren’t any for me this time. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I finished chapter nineteen of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2, and posted it to the two online subscription writing sites I use.

Reviewers provided another sixteen critiques this week, bringing the total to 383. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

Bashari strode to a nearby table and lifted a set of keys before turning to Sear. “Who will be driving?”

“I will. Any problems if I add another dent or two to the Noah?” He laughed.

Bashari smiled. “If it helps you recover my daughter, you may do what you like with the vehicle.”

“As soon as we collect our belongings from the hotel, we’ll change locations.” Sear pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Here’s my satellite phone number. I’ll be back in touch as soon as possible.”

Bashari took the paper. “May Allah, in his infinite wisdom, guide you along the correct path.”

Sear nodded as he turned and followed the servant from the room, Malik and Wasim bringing up the rear.

Back at the vehicles, Sear toss the keys to the Hilux to Malik and unlocked the Noah’s doors. “Meet you at the hotel.”

Wasim climbed in beside Wasim. “Do you think it’s safe to move into Bashari’s brother-in-law’s home?”

“Yeah.” Sear started the engine and engaged the clutch. With a lurch, the Noah edged forward behind the Hilux. “We don’t have a choice. While Dabir seems nice enough on the surface, I’m picking something up about him I don’t like.” Sear shook his head. “I might be wrong, but I always trust my gut feelings.”

The servant waved the vehicles into the street.

Sear traced their route back to the hotel, following Malik.

They parked behind the hotel and entered through a rear door.

Dabir stood in his customary position behind the check-in counter. “Good day, Sayyid. Did you meet with Sayyid Bashari?”

“Yeah.” Sear nodded. “He’s offered us a place to stay, so we’re going to move. I’ll be spending more time with Bashari so this’ll cut down travel time.”

“I … see.” Dabir frowned. “But the hotel isn’t far away, so why not remain here?”

“Doesn’t matter—this is my choice.” Sear’s voice hardened. “I always prefer remaining in more private surroundings. Even though there aren’t many occupants in the hotel at the moment, this could change.”

“Oh, okay.” Dabir replaced his frown with a smile. “Do you require any assistance in packing?”

Sear shook his head. “No, since I didn’t bring much with me. Keep my room for me in case I change my mind.”

“Yes, Sayyid.”

Sear, Malik, and Wasim headed up the stairs and collected their meager belongings. Before he left the room, Sear threaded his belt through the holster holding the  SIG Sauer and pulled his shirttail over it. He shoved the two spare magazines into a back pocket. Picking up his bag, he headed back to reception.

Wasim and Malik hovered near the check-in desk, each holding a small duffle bag.

Sear nodded and continued toward the back door with the brothers following and Dabir traipsing along.

Sear, Wasim, and Malik climbed into the Noah, with Sear once again driving. They waved to Dabir as they departed.

A heavyset man dressed in a black thobe and wearing a white dishdasha on his head stepped out of the shadows. Wiping the perspiration from his head, he stopped by Dabir. “So, the infidel has departed. When will he return?”

Dabir turned to the man. “Salam alaikum, Badr. He is moving to a property controlled by Bashari but asked me to keep his room.”

Badr nodded. “Wa alaykum as-salam. Have you notified the others yet?”

“I shall do that now.” Dabir pulled out his cell phone and punched in a text. Infidel relocating. Will have someone keep an eye on him as he can’t get too close to the truth.

He showed the text to Badr before hitting send.

Badr grunted. “When we were with the infidel during the air attack, he never gave an indication he recognized any of us. Let us hope it remains that way.”

“Agreed.” Dabir grinned. “If he gets in the way, he will join his brethren.”

More next time.

I’m also working on a new project as a co-author with Michael Maxwell, the author of over thirty novels. The tentative title is The Great Rebellion – Finn Harding Book One.  It’s a romantic alternate history of the American Civil War. More to follow on this later.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

 

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 5, 2023

Randall Krzak

While Storm Ciaran battered France and southern England with heavy rain and winds gusting up to 100 mph, the impact in Scotland wasn’t as bad as it was with Storm Babet. There was still plenty of rain in the Tayside and Fife areas, causing localized flooding. We had gusts up to forty mph, which wasn’t unusual for this time of year. Right now, the weather has calmed down and the next week should be better.

There’s been a welcome sign for British motorists as the price of gasoline (petrol) dropped another three pence to £1.50 a liter.  However, with the pound strengthening slightly against the dollar, the equivalent price of a U.S. gallon increased four cents to $7.03.  Meanwhile, diesel dropped another two pence to £1.60 a liter, but increased by seven cents to $7.48 a gallon.

The writer is an explorer. Every step is an advance into a new land.  — Ralph Waldo Emerson. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on November 5th, the first Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Hans Sachs, German composer, playwright, and shoemaker; Philippe de Mornay (or Philippe Du-Plessis-Mornay), French writer; Isaac de Benserade, French poet; John Brown, English writer; Moritz Szeps, Austrian journalist and newspaper publisher; Ruy Barbosa, Brazilian polymath, writer and politician; Ella Wheeler Wilcox, American author and poet (Poems of Passion); James Elroy Flecker, English poet and dramatist (Hassan); William Durant, American author and historian (The Story of Philosophy, The Story of Civilization); Charles MacArthur, American playwright and screenwriter (The Scoundrel); George Sheehan, American doctor, athlete and author (“Running & Being: The Total Experience,” NY Times best seller); Hasan Askari, Pakistani philosopher, critic and writer; John Berger, English art critic and author (Ways of Seeing); Leo Derksen, Dutch journalist (Telegraph/Sunday Newspaper); Clifford Irving, American novelist and investigative reporter (hoax autobiography of Howard Hughes); Christopher Wood, English screenwriter and novelist (Confessions); Sam Shepard Ill, American actor and playwright (Frances, Crimes of the Heart); and Joyce Maynard, American journalist and novelist (Labor Day).

Any names familiar to you? There weren’t any for me this time. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenI was on a roll this week, not only finishing chapter seventeen of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book , but also chapter eighteen.

Reviewers provided another twenty-three critiques this week, bringing the total to 367. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

Yusuf gestured with a piece of the flatbread. “Prince Sami will arrive next week. Have you completed the arrangements for his visit?”

Wazir belched as he reached for a cup of mango juice. “Not yet. Most things are ready, but there’s a problem finding suitable ‘applicants’ for him.” Wazir used air quotes when he said applicants.

“So, what’s the problem? Take some beggars off the street and clean them up.”

Wazir shook his head. “I understand he wants someone who can read and write.”

“In Yemen?” Yusuf laughed. “That is a problem.” He tapped a finger against his lips. “Perhaps it is time to pay a visit to one of the wealthy families and see if they have someone who might be suitable.”

“I guess that is possible. But we must do it without Prince Hussein finding out. As far as I know, he is unaware of his younger brother’s nefarious activities.”

Both men laughed.

“Wait. What about the Bashari family? We already have their daughter. They have a son as well.”

Wazir nodded. “Yes, but he is a bit older than Prince Sami likes.”

Yusuf shrugged. “Who cares? This work is becoming more difficult all the time. I wish we were still in Aden, where it was easier to make children disappear.”

“Hmm. I guess you are right. However, we make more money working for Prince Hussein and do not have to work as hard.”

The men finished the last of their meal, wiping the final morsels from their bowls with a piece of bread.

“I suggest we have one of our men set up near the Bashari residence and make note of the family’s activities and how many people visit them.” Yusuf yawned. “We have a few days to set something up before we snatch the boy.”

“Where will we keep him?”

“In the same cell where we held his sister.”

Both men chuckled as they climbed to their feet and headed inside.

“Where have you been?” Prince Hussein glared at both men as they passed his open office door. “I expected you here sooner.”

“Sorry, Prince Hussein.” Wazir gave a slight bow. “We were outside eating and just finished.”

“Well, come inside and sit.”

Both men did as ordered.

The prince studied each man’s face in turn. “My brother, Prince Sami, will be with us next for a three-day visit. Make sure everything is arranged in advance. I also want to throw a small party for him so he feels welcome in Sana’a. The last time he visited we did not do anything, and he felt slighted.”

Wazir and Yusuf glanced at each other.

Yusuf turned to the prince. “Is there anything in particular you would like?”

“Just the usual guests from the diplomatic community and the local government.” He grinned. “Sami mentioned he was looking for a bride—it would be his first. So make sure some chaperoned women are among the guests. The party would be a good time for him to find someone suitable so an engagement celebration can be arranged for his next visit.”

“Yes, Prince Hussein.” Wazir scooted forward in the chair. “Is there anything else?”

Prince Hussein shook his head. “You are dismissed to go about your duties.”

Wazir and Yusuf stood and bowed before leaving the office and headed upstairs to the living area.

Yusuf rang a bell.

Moments later, a young male servant appeared. “Yes, Sayyid?”

“Bring us tea and a plate of dates.”

“At once, Sayyid.” The servant turned and rushed out of the room.

Yusuf glanced at Wazir. “Where will we find suitable women for Prince Sami to consider?”

Wazir laughed. “I’ll think of something. If Prince Hussein didn’t have his eyes fixed on Shatara, she would be a good candidate.”

More next time.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

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Randall’s Ramblings, October 29, 2023

Randall Krzak

As we move toward the end of October, clocks went back an hour this morning in the UK. We’ve had a better week with the weather, which allowed me to spend several hours power washing our block-paved driveway. It’s clean looking once again, so I won’t have to do it again until next spring.  I wanted to rake up more leaves but the rain came on, putting an end to that idea–at least for now.

The latest small business market began on Friday. For the first two days, I sold eleven autographed novels, while Sylvia sold twelve laminate poetry sheets, five poetry book marks, and three poetry books. Today’s the final day, so hopefully we’ll have another good day.

The price of gasoline (petrol) dropped three pence this week, down to £1.53 a liter. With the dollar continuing to strengthen against the pound, this equates to $6.99 for an equivalent U.S. gallon, a drop of nineteen cents. Meanwhile, diesel dropped another penny to £1.62 a liter, or $7.41 a gallon, a drop of seven cents.

“Rejection slips, or form letters, however tactfully phrased, are lacerations of the soul, if not quite inventions of the devil—but there is no way around them.” — Isaac Asimov. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on 29 October, the fifth and final Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Pierre François Xavier de Charlevoix, French Jesuit priest and historian, born in Saint-Quentin, Picardy, Kingdom of France; James Boswell, Scottish biographer of Samuel Johnson and diarist; Ľudovít Štúr, Slovak politician and author of Slovak language; Konrad Haebler, German historian (Early printers of Spain/Portugal); Narziss Ach, German psychologist (Analyse des Willens); Guillermo Valencia, Colombian poet, translator and statesman; Jean Giraudoux, French writer and playwright (The Madwoman of Chaillot); Claire Goll, German-French writer; Fredric Brown, American sci-fi author (Martians Go Home);Bernard Gordon, American writer and producer (Earth vs. the Flying Saucers); Zbigniew Herbert, Polish poet and writer; Dominick Dunne, American writer and producer (Panic in Needle Park); Lee Child [James Grant], English author (Jack Reacher novels); David Remnick, American writer and editor of The New Yorker; Stanley Donwood [Dan Rickwood], British writer and album art designer (Radiohead; Thom Yorke); Gabrielle Union, American actress, author and activist (Bring it on, Being Mary Jane); and Mohsen Emadi, Iranian-Mexican poet.

Any names familiar to you? There was one for me: Lee Child. Several purchasers of my novels have compared my work with Lee Child’s. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenI didn’t quite finish chapter seventeen of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2 this week, but hope to have it done in the next day or so. Reviewers provided another thrity-one critiques this week, bringing the total to 344. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

As Uzza turned from the locked door, she put the key in her pocket.

Someone grabbed her from behind and spun her around.

She gasped. “You scared me, Yusuf. What do you want?”

“You are late. Why are you still here?” He let go of her arm.

“I was talking with Shatara. She is like an older sister I never had.”

“Hmmm.” Yusuf grunted. “You were supposed to provide an update to Prince al Mishari an hour ago.” He pointed toward the ceiling. “Go see him—now.”

“Yes, Yusuf.” She turned and headed toward the stairs.

As she approached the door to al Mishari’s office, her steps faltered. I hope he will be pleased with my report. She knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

Uzza swallowed at the sound of his harsh voice. She pushed the door open, walked across the multi-colored silk carpet adorning the tile floor, and stopped in front of al Mishari’s desk. She gave him a brief bow, waiting for him to speak.

The prince leaned back in the black leather chair and sipped from a glass of tea. “Well?”

“I-I am sorry to be late, Prince al Mishari. I lost track of time.”

He waved a hand in dismissal of her comments. “How is our guest doing today?”

Guest? She is locked behind a door. “S-She is adjusting to her new surroundings. I gave her new clothing as you ordered. She was delighted.”

He nodded. “Burn her old clothes. Did you give her the book I provided?”

“Yes, my prince. She said she would read to me later.”

Al Mishari glared at Uzza. “Do not become too attached to her. I do not know how much longer she will remain with us.”

What will he do to her? She nodded. “As you command.”

He reached into a drawer, withdrew a small package, and slid it across the desk. “Give this to her the next time you visit.”

“What is it?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but it is a set of prayer beads. When she asked about a book to read, she also asked for some beads to help her track her prayers.”

Uzza’s face turned red. “I am sorry if I offended you.”

Al Mishari tilted his head as he studied her profile. “Remember your place, and we shall get along fine.” He gestured toward the door. “You may go now and continue your duties, or should I send you back to the slum my men found you in?”

She shook her head. “I will do my tasks, Prince al Mishari. Please do not send me back.” Uzza turned and fled toward the door. Back in the corridor, tears glistened on her face. I thought he liked me. Is Shatara to replace me?

More next time.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

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Randall’s Ramblings, October 22, 2023

Randall Krzak

The first part of the past week was dry and sunny. Then came along Storm Babet–which brought heavy winds and plenty of rain. Parts of the east coast were flooded, with hundreds of home still suffering from flood waters while at least seven people were killed. Our area didn’t get hit too bad–winds gusting up to 53 miles an hour and rain from Thursday through Saturday morning. The sun finally came out Saturday afternoon and we have plenty of sunshine today, too.

The price of gasoline (petrol) remained the same since my last post, at £1.56 a liter. Based on the current exchange rate, this equates to $7.18 for an equivalent U.S. gallon. Meanwhile, diesel dropped a penny to £1.63 a liter, or $7.48 a gallon.

The writing of a novel is taking life as it already exists, not to report it but to make an object, toward the end that the finished work might contain this life inside it and offer it to the reader. The essence will not be, of course, the same thing as the raw material; it is not even of the same family of things. The novel is something that never was before and will not be again.” — Eudora Welty. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on 22 October, the fourth Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

William IX, the Troubadour, Frankish nobleman (Duke of Aquitaine, Duke of Gascony, Count of Poitou, 1086-1127), Crusader, and poet; Leconte de Lisle, French poet and writer; Alfred Douglas, English poet, journalist and partner of Oscar Wilde; Ivan Bunin, Russian poet and novelist (Gentleman from San Francisco-Nobel 1933); Karl Adam, German theologist (Christ our Brother); Adolph Joffe, Russian Communist revolutionary and writer (Brest-Litovsk); John Reed, American journalist and communist activist (reported on Mexican, Russian revolutions – “Ten Days that Shook the World”); Dámaso Alonso, Spanish linguist and poet (Hijos de la ira); Sidney Kingsley, American playwright (Men in White – Pulitzer Prize 1934); John Gould, American humorist, essayist, and columnist; Doris Lessing, Iranian novelist (Adore, Memoirs of a Survivor, Golden Notebook); Georges Brassens, French poet and singer-songwriter (Supplique pour être enterré à la plage de Sète); Jan A de Jonge, Dutch historian; Bobby Seale, American political and civil rights activist (Black Panther Party) and author; and Arto Salminen, Finnish writer.

Any names familiar to you? There weren’t any for me. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis morning I finished Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2 chapter sixteen. Reviewers provided another twenty-five critiques this week, bringing the total to 313. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

“Can you think of anyone who has a grudge against you?” Sear rubbed his stubble. “It’s possible someone will try to use Shatara as a bargaining chip.”

“I—” Bashari stopped as the servant entered, pushing a trolley containing a tea service, a pot of coffee, a plate of dates, and several dishes holding various Yemeni delicacies.

“Shukran, Qadir. Please serve our guests.”

The old man nodded as he offered tea, coffee, fruit, and pastries to Sear, Wasim, and Malik.

The three men accepted the offerings.

Sear sipped on his strong coffee. “Excellent.” He set the cup and saucer on a table Qadir had moved forward. “You were going to say something?”

Bashari nodded. “Yes, I can’t think of anyone who would be holding something against me. However, I am outspoken about what the Houthis are doing to my country.” He snapped his fingers. “Could this be what it’s about?”

“It’s possible, but until someone contacts you with their demands, it’s difficult to know for sure.” He turned to Malik. “Do you think your friend, Tarik, might be able to help?”

Malik nodded. “If anyone can find out anything for us, it’ll be Tarik.” He stood, pulled his phone from a pocket, and went to the other end of the room.

“I’ve kept information about Shatara’s kidnapping from everyone I know.” Bashari glanced at the floor. “Do you think it’s time to spread the word?”

Sear nodded. “Yes. It’s been a long time since I served in Yemen, but I’ll see if anyone remembers me.” He turned to Wasim. “Can you do the same?”

“Of course. There might be a few people who remember when I was an investigator and be willing to help.”

“Where are you staying?” Bashari glanced at Sear.

“We’re at the Al Bilad Hotel, but I want to move elsewhere. I have a strange feeling about the clerk—almost as if he knows something but is keeping quiet.” Vincent warned me about Dabir—better to trust my instincts.

Bashari nodded. “Before my brother-in-law, Borak Rashid was killed, we had planned to suggest you stay in the Rashid ancestral home. You may still use it if you like—it’d be a way to honor his passing. It’s not far from here.”

“Yes, that’d be a great idea. Do you know where we can get another vehicle? We’re using a Toyota Hilux we borrowed from the clerk, but I’d rather use something not associated with the hotel.”

A smile spread across Bashari’s face for the first time since they arrived. “There are more Hiluxes in Yemen than any other vehicle. How about my Toyota Noah? You might have spotted it outside when you arrived.”

“Yes, that would work. Shukran. Bashari, when we drove here from the hotel, we noticed recent damage. Was it caused by last night’s aircraft attack?”

Bashari nodded. “Yes. It’s rare for the Haddah district to be attacked, but I heard several people were injured—four of them were children. Also, a number of buildings were damaged, including the Norwegian Refugee Council guesthouse.” He sighed. “Yemen used to be a quiet place to live—at least until the Houthi uprising.”

“How did it start?” Sear drained the last of his coffee and poured another cup.

“It began in 2004 and was a military rebellion, pitting Zaida Shia Houthis against the Yemeni army. As time passed, it spread throughout the country.”

Malik resumed his seat. “Tarik will do what he can to assist us. However, he’s not hopeful.” He glanced at Bashari. “Many people have disappeared since the uprising. Some have been sold into slavery.”

Bashari sucked in his breath.

Sear shook his head. “Let’s not panic at this stage. It could still be a simple kidnapping for ransom.” He turned to Bashari. “We will do our best to help you get your daughter back.”

A glimmer of a smile creased Bashari’s face. “Shukran, Sayyid—Sear. Jasmin and I would be in your debt forever if you could manage this. I shall inform the caretaker at the Rashid residence of your arrival.”

Sear finished his coffee and stood. “We’ll check out of the hotel now and go there.” Don’t know if we’ll find Shatara, but I’ll give it my best shot. Hope she hasn’t fallen afoul of human traffickers.

More next time.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

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Randall’s Ramblings, September 15, 2023

Randall Krzak

I spent last week in Washington, D.C. and South Carolina. Had an opportunity to catch up with a longtime work colleague and friend in S.C., and checked out our son’s apartment in D.C. It was great to see both of them and also take advantage of the warm weather. Since returning back to Scotland, it’s been windy and cold, but at least there’s been some sunshine.

The price of gasoline (petrol) dropped two pence since my last post, settling at £1.56 a liter. Based on the current exchange rate, this equates to $7.14 for an equivalent U.S. gallon. Meanwhile, diesel has climbed to £1.64 a liter, or $7.52 a gallon.

“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.” — George Orwell. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on 15 October, the third Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Virgil, Roman poet of the Augustan period (Aeneid); Allan Ramsay, Scottish poet (Gentle Shepherd); Alfred Meissner, Austrian poet (Ziska); Helen Hunt Jackson, American author (Ramona); Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher and philologist (Beyond Good and Evil); George Foot Moore, American theologist (Hebrews, Old Testament); Jaime de Magalhães Lima, Portuguese author and poet (Salmos do Prisoneiro);  P. G. Wodehouse, British-American writer (Bertie Wooster novels); S.S. Van Dine [pseudonym for William Huntingdon Wright], American art critic and crime writer (Philo Vance); Alfred Neumann, German playwright (Devil); Bernard von Brentano, German writer (Big Cats); Charles P. Snow, English novelist (Death Under Sail, Strangers and Brothers) and physical chemist; Varian Fry, American journalist and recognized as “Righteous Among the Nations”; John Kenneth Galbraith, Canadian-American economist and writer (Affluent Society – Sidney Hillman Award, 1958); James H. Schmitz, American sci-fi author (Lion Game); Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr, American historian (1946 Pulitzer-Age of Jackson); Edwin Charles Tubb, British sci-fi writer (Earth is Heaven, Earthfall); Mario Puzo, American novelist (The Godfather, Cotton Club, Earthquake); Agustina Bessa-Luís, Portuguese writer (A Sibila); Italo Calvino, Italian author (If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler); Ed McBain [Evan Hunter], American writer (Blackboard Jungle); Hubert Dreyfus, American philosopher (What Computers Can’t Do); FM-2030 [Fereidoun M. Esfandiary], Iranian-American author and transhumanist (Are You a Transhuman?); Riekus Waskowsky, Dutch poet; and Peter Richardson, British actor, writer and director (The Comic Strip Presents, The Pope Must Die).

Any names familiar to you? There were three for me: Friedrich Nietzche, P. G. Wodehouse, and Mario Puzo. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenWith the trip to the States, I wasn’t able to finish chapter fifteen  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2 until I returned. While I was gone, one of the online subscription writing sites I used suffered a catastrophic hardware failure, although they returned a few days ago, albeit with an older backup version. As a result, I lost at least thirty reviews. Even so,  reviewers provided another thirteen critiques this week, bringing the total to 288. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

A man who Sear recognized from the photos had Vincent provided stood and stepped forward. He was dressed in a long-sleeved brown shirt and a futa, the skirt in a subdued green, while a white turban adorned his head.

Abdullah Bashari stretched out his hand. “Welcome to my humble home, Sayyid Sear. It is an honor and privilege for you to be here.”

“Shukran, Sayyid Bashari. Please call me Sear, as that’s what my friends call me.” Sear shook hands.

“Thank you, Sear. Let me introduce you to my wife, Yasmin Rashid. You might find us a rather confusing couple, as we picked up numerous Western customs while living in Europe.”

A diminutive woman dressed in a yellow zina and Western jeans stood and bowed. “Welcome. I shall leave you now to your discussion.” She adjusted her orange headscarf and left the room.

Bashari gestured to the matching brown sofas. “Please have a seat.” He picked up an envelope from a hand-carved rectangular table and offered it to Sear. “These are photos of my missing daughter, Shatara.” He sat, wiping a tear away as he seemed to struggle to remain composed. “We don’t know where she is. Yasmin was with her when two men broke into the house and took her.”

Sear opened the envelope and studied the photos. “She’s a lovely young woman. Has there been any ransom demands?”

“No.” Bashari shook his head. “It’s been almost a month since they took her. There’s been no contact except one day a courier brought an envelope. It contained a photo of Shatara holding a copy of Al-Jumhuryah with a current date.”

Sear nodded. “Proof of life. When did you receive this?”

“About two weeks ago. I’ll give it to you later.”

“Can you think of anyone who has a grudge against you?” Sear rubbed his stubble. “It’s possible someone will try to use Shatara as a bargaining chip.”

“I—” Bashari stopped as the servant entered, pushing a trolley containing a tea service, a pot of coffee, a plate of dates, and several dishes holding various Yemeni delicacies.

“Shukran, Qadir. Please serve our guests.”

The old man nodded as he offered tea, coffee, fruit, and pastries to Sear, Qasim, and Malik.

The three men accepted the offerings.

Sear sipped on his strong coffee. “Excellent.” He set the cup and saucer on a table Qadir had moved forward. “You were going to say something?”

Bashari nodded. “Yes, I can’t think of anyone who would be holding something against me. However, I am outspoken about what the Houthis are doing to my country.” He snapped his fingers. “Could this be what it’s about?”

“It’s possible, but until someone contacts you with their demands, it’s difficult to know for sure.” Sear turned to Malik. “Do you think your friend, Tarik, might be able to help?”

Malik nodded. “If anyone can find out anything for us, it’ll be Tarik.” He stood, pulled his phone from a pocket, and went to the other end of the room.

“I’ve kept information about Shatara’s kidnapping from everyone I know.” Bashari glanced at the floor. “Do you think it’s time to spread the word?”

Sear nodded. “Yes. It’s been a long time since I served in Yemen, but I’ll see if anyone remembers me.” He turned to Wasim. “Can you do the same?”

“Of course. There might be a few people who remember when I was an investigator and be willing to help.”

“Where are you staying?” Bashari glanced at Sear.

“We’re at the Al Bilad Hotel, but I want to move elsewhere. I have a strange feeling about the clerk—almost as if he knows something but is keeping quiet.” Vincent warned me about Dabir—better to trust my instincts.

More next time.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

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Randall’s Ramblings, October 1, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been a wet week, with plenty of rain and strong gusts from Storm Agnes. Fortunately, we didn’t get the brunt of the storm–that was reserved for Ireland and the west coast of Scotland. We’re starting today with mixed skies, but for now, there’s plenty of sunshine.

The stabilization of gasoline (petrol) prices didn’t last long. Over the past week, the price of increased to £1.58 a liter. Meanwhile, the pound strengthened slightly against the dollar, and the price of an equivalent U.S. gallon increase nine pence to $7.30. Meanwhile, the price of a liter of diesel jumped four pence to £1.63 a liter.

Writing is sweat and drudgery most of the time. And you have to love it in order to endure the solitude and the discipline. — Peter Benchley, author of Jaws. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on 1 October, the first Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

William Beckford, British writer (Epsiodes of Vathek); Vincenzo Cuoco, Italian historian (Naples Revolution 1799); Sergey Aksakov, Russian novelist (Chronicles of a Russian Family); Charles Cros, French inventor and poet (Le Hareng Saur); Israël Querido, Dutch writer (Menschenwee); Louis Untermeyer, American poet and critic (Immortal Poems, Story Poems); Ahmad Amin, Egyptian historian and author (My Life); Faith Baldwin, American author (They Who Love); Ernest Haycox, American writer; René de Rooy, Surinamese and Antillean poet (Juancho Picaflor); Isaac Bonewits, American author; John Hegley, British poet; and Jon Guenther, American author.

Any names familiar to you? There weren’t any for me. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I was unable to finish chapter fifteen of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. Outside endeavors and catching up on reciprocal reviews kept me busy. Even so,  reviewers provided another ten critiques this week, bringing the total to 275. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

Sear squeezed the vehicle through the narrow opening and parked near another white Toyota Hilux in pristine condition. Beside it was a battered olive green Toyota Noah. “Looks like someone’s home.”

The men climbed out of Sear’s vehicle and approached a door covered with security bars.

Wasim located a bell and pushed the buzzer.

Moments later, a wizened white-haired man opened the door and bowed from the waist. “Salam alaikum.”

Sear stepped forward. “Wa alaikum as-salam.” He continued speaking to the man in Arabic. “I am Sear. Sayyid Bashari is expecting us.”

After a look of surprise crossed the man’s face when a foreigner spoke his language, he bowed again and opened the door wide. Min fadlak, Sayyid.”

“Shukran. Please take us to Sayyid Bashari.”

The man gestured them forward along a marbled-floor corridor. He rushed ahead of them, leading Sear, Malik, and Wasim through an arch and into a living area.

A man who Sear recognized from the photos had Vincent provided stood and stepped forward. He was dressed in a long-sleeved brown shirt and a futa, the skirt in a subdued green, while a white turban adorned his head.

Abdullah Bashari stretched out his hand. “Welcome to my humble home, Sayyid Sear. It is an honor and privilege for you to be here.”

“Shukran, Sayyid Bashari. Please call me Sear, as that’s what my friends call me.” Sear shook hands.

“Thank you, Sear. Let me introduce you to my wife, Yasmin Rashid. You might find us a rather confusing couple, as we picked up numerous Western customs while living in Europe.”

A diminutive woman dressed in a yellow zina and Western jeans stood and bowed. “Welcome. I shall leave you now to your discussion.” She adjusted her orange headscarf and left the room.

Bashari gestured to the matching brown sofas. “Please have a seat.” He picked up an envelope from a hand-carved rectangular table and offered it to Sear. “These are photos of my missing daughter, Shatara.” He sat, wiping a tear away as he seemed to struggle to remain composed. “We don’t know where she is. Yasmin was with her when two men broke into the house and took her.”

Sear opened the envelope and studied the photos. “She’s a lovely young woman. Has there been any ransom demands?”

“No.” Bashari shook his head. “It’s been almost a month since they took her. There’s been no contact except one day a courier brought an envelope. It contained a photo of Shatara holding a copy of Al-Jumhuryah with a current date.”

Sear nodded. “Proof of life. When did you receive this?”

“About two weeks ago. I’ll give it to you later.”

More next time.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved

 

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Randall’s Ramblings, September 24, 2023

Randall Krzak

We had one day this week where the daytime temperature made it to 65F (C). Otherwise, we ranged from 56-62F (13-19C). Meanwhile, the nighttime temperatures continued to drop, ranging from 43-49C (6-10C). For the most part, it’s been a mixed week, with plenty of rain and some cool breezes. As least one day was dry enough to get the fallen leaves raked up, but still more to come.

Over the past week, the price of gasoline (petrol) remained stable at £1.56 a liter. However, the pound continued to weaken against the dollar, and the price of an equivalent U.S. gallon stayed steady at $7.21. Meanwhile, the price of a liter of diesel increased to £1.59 a liter.

“The writing of a novel is taking life as it already exists, not to report it but to make an object, toward the end that the finished work might contain this life inside it and offer it to the reader. The essence will not be, of course, the same thing as the raw material; it is not even of the same family of things. The novel is something that never was before and will not be again.” — Eudora Welty. Compliments of https://selfpublishing.com/writing-quotes/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on 24 September, the fourth and final Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Horace Walpole, British horror writer (Castle of Otranto); William Lisle Bowles, English poet (14 Sonnets); Ramón de Campoamor y Campoosorio, Spanish poet (Doloras); Cyprian Norwid, Polish painter, poet and playwright (Wanda); Frances Harper, African-American abolitionist, suffragist and writer (Iola Leroy); James St Clair Morton, American engineer, author, and Brigadier General (Union Army); Pieter Lodewijk Tak, Dutch journalist and politician (The Chronicle); S. R. Crockett, Scottish novelist (The Stickit Minister); Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz, Swiss writer (Le Petit Village); Herman Bouber, Dutch actor and playwright (Sailor’s Wives); F. Scott Fitzsgerald, American author (Great Gatsby, Zelda); Ham Fisher, American comic strip writer and cartoonist (Joe Palooka); Cao Yu, Huaju writer (Peking Man); Ian Serraillier, English children’s books author (The Silver Sword); Margarita Aliger, Russian poet (Zoja); Richard Hoggart, British author (The Uses of Literacy: Aspects of Working Class Life) and warden (Goldsmith’s College London; Ladislav Fuks, Czech writer; Józef Krupiński, Polish poet (Marsz żałobny); Brian Glanville, English journalist and football writer; John Brunner, Britsih sci-fi author (100th Millennium); Jim Henson, American puppeteer, artist, screenwriter and filmmaker, best known as the creator of ‘the Muppets” (Sesame Street, The Muppet Show); Yves Navarre, French writer (Le Jardin d’acclimatation); David Drake, American sci-fi author, veteran and lawyer (Cross the Stars, Rolling Hot); John Logan, American screenwriter and playwright (Gladiator); and Szilvia Molnar, Swedish writer.

Any names familiar to you? There were two for me: F. Scott Fitzgerald and Jim Henson. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I completed chapter fourteen  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. Reviewers provided another twenty-four critiques this week, bringing the total to 265. As always, they’ve provided plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into reviewing my work.

Here’s another snippet. Please keep in mind that since these are first-draft chapters, things will likely be changed once I get to the editing phase. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please let me know.

“Understood.” Shatara studied the garment Uzza laid out on the bed. “What lovely clothes.” She reached down and ran a hand over a multi-colored zina. “I love the red and yellow colors in the dress. I just wish there was a version with short sleeves.”

Uzza giggled. “Would you dare to show your arms to someone not your husband?”

“Why not? In many parts of the world, women wear short-sleeved garments. In fact, they choose what they will wear.” Shatara sighed. “At least the green baggy trousers go well with the red, white, and yellow of the zina.”

“I choose the clothing myself.” Uzza grinned. “Later, I will bring you other zinas and Sana’anis. The prince says you may have three of each.”

I don’t want to insult her, as she is trying to help me, but her choice of colors is horrible. “Thank you so much.” Shatara pointed to the hijab. “Must I wear that?”

“Only if you are permitted to leave the building. I use one when I go outside, too.”

Shatara pursed her lips and sighed. “Okay.” She began to dress as her stomach rumbled. “I hope someone will bring food soon—I’m hungry.”

“While you were cleansing yourself, I opened the door and picked up the second container I brought with me. We shall eat together.” Uzza reached on the other side of the bed where she had hidden a wicker basket. “Look—I have a surprise for you. We shall dine on mutabaq, which are filled with scrambled eggs and cheese and some masoub. I made the bread myself and added bananas and honey as I made it.”

Shatara’s stomach rumbled again, this time louder. She laughed as she patted it. “My body is enjoying just hearing about the food.”

“Cook also gave me one zalabia each. I love these pastries and eat them whenever possible because they give me  energy.”

Shatara smile. “There are also fattening. Did you bring anything to drink?”

“Yes, mango juice.” She arranged the food on a small table at the foot of the bed. “Come, let us enjoy our first breakfast together.”

As they ate their breakfast, Uzza reached into the basket and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. “This is for you from the prince.”

“What is it?” Shatara took the package.

Uzza smiled. “Open it and find out.”

“Okay.” Shatara wiped her hands on a piece of cloth Uzza handed her.

Uzza clapped her hands. “Hurry. I want to find out as no one told me what it was.”

“Just a minute.” Shatara untied the string holding the package together. Pulling back the now-loosened paper, she gasped. Inside, she found a book: The Poetry of Arab Women from the Pre-Islamic Age to Andalusia. “A book. I told al Mishara I loved to read.”

“What’s it about? Perhaps later, you will tell me what it says?” Uzza glanced downward. “I cannot read.”

“It’s a book of poetry by Arab women. I shall pick some and read them to you.”

“Thank you. I will enjoy that. I shall return before Asr, as we will pray together.”

“Where are you going?”

“The prince instructed me to seek him out after you were settled.” Uzza blushed. “I am not sure what he wants except a report on how you are doing. He’s very interested in you.”

“Yes, I know. He wants me to marry him, but I want to wait until I’m older and choose my husband.”

Uzza laughed. “What is wrong with being a wife to Prince al Mishari? I understand his family is rich, and he’s kind to his wives.” She stood and collected the dishes, putting them back in the basket. “I must go now.” She headed toward the door.

“Wait.”

Uzza turned. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to … say thank you. You have been very kind.”

“You’re welcome.” Uzza left the room, locking the door behind her.

Shatara settled on the bed, opened the book, and began reading.

Before long, she placed the tome next to her pillow, closed her eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

She felt someone climb onto the bed but couldn’t see who it was because it was dark. Where is Uzza? She said she was returning before Asr prayers.

A man grunted before grabbing Shatara’s zina and ripping it from her body.

She screamed as she struggled against her attacker.

“Hold still. This won’t hurt a bit.” He pushed a cloth over her face. “Take a deep breath.”

Shatara continued to fight against the man’s attempts to hold the cloth tighter. She inhaled and coughed.

Moments later, she lay quiet, unmoving.

More next time.

This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

© Copyright 2023 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved