Randall’s Ramblings

Randall's Ramblings

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

Randall's Ramblings

Randall’s Ramblings, September 17, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been a mainly wet week, with daytime temperatures ranging from 59-68F (14-20C). Nighttime temperatures were also lower, staying between 43-52F (6-11C) There was one day where it was dry enough so I was able to start raking up the leaves. Plenty more have fallen since then, but I’ll have to wait for another dry day to gather them up.

Over the past week, the price of gasoline (petrol) jumped another two pence, bringing it up to 1.56 a liter. However, the pound continued to weaken against the dollar, and the price of an equivalent U.S. gallon fell from $7.26 to $7.21. Meanwhile, the price of a liter of diesel increased to £1.58 a liter.

“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 17 September, the third Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Gilbert Burnet, Scottish philosopher and Bishop of Salisbury (History of the Reformation); Durastante Natalucci, Italian historian (specialized in history of Trevi, in Umbria); Gottlieb Rabener, German author (Vom Misbrauch of the Satire); Marquis de Condorcet, French enlightenment philosopher (Condorcet Method) and mathematician; Johann August Apel, German jurist and writer; Edward William Lane, British lexicographer and translator (One Thousand & One Nights); Émile Augier, French dramatist; Edouard Pailleron, French attorney, poet and stage writer; Clemens Baeumker, German historian (Patristischen Philosophie); Hans Müller, German music historian and writer; Owen Seaman, British poet and editor (Punch); Désiré Inghelbrecht, French composer, conductor and writer; Anton Hendrik Blaauw, Dutch botanist (Perception of Light); Gerald Hugh Tyrwhitt-Wilson, 14th Baron Bernes, British composer and novelist; William Carlos Williams, American physician and poet; Bastiaan de Gaay Fortman, Dutch historian and Justice of Curacao; Abel Herzberg, Russian-Dutch Jewish lawyer and writer (Persecution of Jews); Mary Stewart, British sci-fi author (Crystal Cave); Ken Kesey, American author (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest); Mischa de Vreede, Dutch poetess (Our Eternal Hunger); Albertine Sarrazin, French author (L’astragale, La Cavale); Robert Graysmith, American Zodiac killer researcher and author; Lawrence Anthony, South Africa, conservationist and author; Brian Andreas, American writer, sculptor, painter and publisher; Rami Saari, Israeli poet and translator; and Wendy Northcutt, American author of the Darwin Awards.

Any names familiar to you? There was one for me–Ken Kesey. 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 thirteen  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 nineteen critiques arrived this week, bringing the total to 241. 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, please let me know.

A light knocking on the door woke Shatara from a restless sleep. Who is that? First person not to barge in. She cleared her throat. “You may enter.”

She listened to a key turn in the lock before the door eased open.

A head peeped around the corner.

Aw, someone who seems younger than me. “Come in, please.”

A petite girl squeezed past the open door, adjusting her traditional Sana’ani, a curtain-style dress in black with red and green trim. Sequins adorned the garment. Upon her head, she wore an Al-Momq, a cotton cloth covering her head. Like the Sana’ani, it was in black but had red and white inclusions. Her long, black tresses flowed down her back. She set a tan canvas bag on the floor.

“As-salam alaykum. I am called Uzza Al-Hammadi. I will be your attendant while you visit us.”

Visit? Does she have any idea what’s going on? “Walaykum as-salam. I am Shatara. How old are you?”

She smiled. “I am twelve years old. Soon, I shall be ready for a husband.”

Shatara shook her head. She has no idea. “What do you have in the bag?”

Uzza glanced down. “A change of clothing for you.” She wrinkled her nose. “But first, you must clean up. I can smell you from here.”

“Yes, I was in a place where I couldn’t keep myself clean.” Shatara sniffed and seemed to recoil from her own body odor. “I hope you brought some shampoo.”

Uzza giggled. “Of course, Shatara. I brought you a shampoo soap bar, which is good for hair growth. It is made with cedarwood, lavender, and sweet orange.”

“Sounds lovely. Where can I clean up?”

Uzza pointed to the interior door as her face beamed. “We are blessed to have modern toilets. There’s one inside, along with a shower hose. Do you need my help?” She picked up the bag and pulled out a bar of soap, along with a square of cloth and a towel, and handed them to Shatara. “When you finish your cleansing, I will have your clothes laid out on the bed for you.”

“Why can’t I take the clothes with me?”

Uzza shook her head. “There isn’t any place to hang them, and they will get wet.”

“Oh.” At least I can protect my modesty with the towel. “Let me go now. I’ll feel better when I’m clean.”

“Oh, yes. And smell better, too.” Uzza covered her mouth as she blushed. “I am sorry if I have insulted you.”

“You’re correct. I’ll be back soon.” Shatara opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. In addition to the toilet, there was a small sink with a cracked mirror above it. In the corner, a hose was connected to two taps via a mixer tube. The water will flow across the floor. Oh, well. At least I’ll be clean again.

Shatara put the towel on the toilet seat, stripped off her clothes, grabbed the soap, and turned on the water.

“Oh!” A burst of cold water caused Shatara to shudder. She adjusted the taps, and the water warmed. “That’s better.” She scrubbed her entire body before lathering her hair. When she finished, she wrapped herself in the towel, knocked on the door, and entered the bedroom.

Uzza smiled. “How was it? I think you enjoyed your showering as I listened to you humming.”

“It was fantastic.” Shatara grinned.

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

Uncategorized

Randall’s Ramblings, September 10, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been a mainly dry and partially sunny week, with daytime temperatures getting as high as 69-81F  (21-27C). However, last week’s cooler evenings have impacted on the leaves, at least on our birch trees. Most of the have yellowed and are starting to fall. Won’t be long and I’ll need to starting raking them up.

Over the past week, the price of gasoline (petrol) increased again, going up another penny, bringing it up to 1.54 a liter. However, with the pound weakening against the dollar, the price of an equivalent U.S. gallon fell from $7.33 to $7.26. Meanwhile, the price of a liter of diesel dropped to £1.565 a liter.

“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 10 September, the second Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Thomas Sydenham, English physician and author of “Observationes Medicae”; Hannah Webster Foster, American author (The Coquette; or, The History of Eliza Wharton); Charles Peirce, American scientist and philosopher known as “the father of pragmatism”; saac Kauffman Funk, American publisher (Funk & Wagnalls); Jeppe Aakjær, Danish poet and novelist (Bondens Søn); Georgia Douglas Johnson, African American poet and playwright (Autumn Love Cycle); Euphemia “Phemia” Molkenboer, Dutch author and poster artist; Berthold Altaner, German Catholic church historian (Patrologie), and educator; Carl Van Doren, American literary critic and biographer (“Benjamin Franklin” – Pulitzer Prize, 1939); Hilda Doolittle, American poetess (Imagist movement); Franz Werfel, Austrian-Bohemian novelist, playwright, and poet (Mirror Man, The Forty Days of Musa Dagh); Viswanatha Satyanarayana, Indian Telugu writer (Ramayana Kalpa Vrukshamu, Veyipadagalu); Georges Bataille, French writer; Toivo Pekkanen, Finnish writer (Wegwerkers); William Oliver Everson, American poet; Franfo Fortini [Franco Lattes], Italian poet; Miguel Serrano, Chilean author, diplomat and fascist (Esoteric Hitlerism); Lex van Delden [Alexander Zwaap], Dutch composer and writer (Canto della Guerra); Leo P. Kelley, American sci-fi author (Dead Moon, Vacation in Space); Bo Goldman, American Academy Award-winning screenwriter (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest; Melvin and Howard), and playwright; Mary Oliver, American poet (1984 Pulitzer Prize); Jared Diamond, American biologist and author (Guns, Germs and Steel); Stephen Jason Gould, American paleontologist and popular science writer; Neale Donald Walsch, American author (Conversations with God); Zhang Chengzhi, Chinese writer (History of the Soul); Gerry Conway, Marvel comics writer (Punisher); Chris Columbus, American film writer/director (Mrs Doubtfire, Nine Months); and Anurag Kashyap, Indian film director, writer, producer and actor (Gangs of Wasseypur, Satya, Black Friday).

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 completed chapter twelve  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further twenty-one reviews arrived this week, bringing the total to 222. 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, please let me know.

Sear joined Wasim and Malik in the hotel’s dining room after Maghrib prayers. There were four other people in the restaurant, all locals based on how they were dressed. They sat at the same table, away from Sear and the others.

Wasim and Malik sat at a square table covered with a red and white checkered tablecloth. In the center were three unlit candles. Both men stood.

Sear chuckled and waved them back into their seats. “I’ll be looking over my shoulder to see who you’re rising for.”

A man wearing a stained apron approached. “Good evening, my friends. Dabir told you about me, yes?”

“Yes.” Sear nodded. “What should we call you?”

“Cook is sufficient, and if you enjoy the meal afterward, you may call me Chef.” The man cackled.

“Okay, Cook. Dabir says your sayadieh is excellent, so we want to try it.”

The cook grinned. “Of course, Sayyid. Might I suggest naqe’e al zabib, a raisin beverage for now, and after your meal, perhaps you might have qishr, a traditional Yemeni drink that we use instead of coffee because it is less expensive.”

Sear, Wasim, and Malik nodded.

“Excellent. I shall return soon with your meals.”

Ten minutes later, the cook returned with their meals. He served them and departed, returning with their drinks.

Lights flickered.

One of the other patrons pulled out a lighter and lit the candles on their table.

Sear followed suit as the lights flickered again.

The roar of low-flying aircraft shook the building and rattled the windows.

A bright light in the distance lit up the sky as the planes dropped bombs on part of the city before turning away.

Sear glanced at Wasim and Malik. “Someone’s getting hammered.” He continued to eat his fish and rice.

The brothers nodded.

Dabir rushed into the dining room and approached their table. “Is everyone okay?” He smiled. “Another Saudi-coalition raid on the city, no doubt.”

“How often does it happen?” Sear finished his fish and put his fork down.

“It seems like every night bombs go off, but some will be by those sacrificing themselves. Not often, but on occasion, we have a quiet evening. At least our part of the city hasn’t been targeted.”

A low-intensity rumble rolled through the sky, growing louder as aircraft returned once again.

“I hope you didn’t speak too soon.” Sear grinned. “Is there an air raid shelter?”

Dabir nodded. “Come this way. We do not want to tempt fate any more than necessary.” He handed out flashlights.

As Dabir led them through a doorway and down a flight of stairs into the basement, the whistling of falling munitions filled the air.

Ka-Boom! Ka-Boom!

“Hurry, everyone!” Dabir shined his light on the steps.

They joined the four locals huddled inside a room reinforced with steel girders as the building continued to shake.

Smash! Crunch! Crack! Tinkle!

Hotel windows broke under the concussion from the nearby explosions.

Why can’t I get a mission to a peaceful country?  Sear shook his head. Perhaps somewhere in the mountains, like a chalet overlooking Lake Lucerne, Switzerland?

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

Uncategorized

September 3, 2023

Randall Krzak

Happy Labor Day weekend for those celebrating! It’s hard to believe the summer has shot past.  We’ve finally had a few consecutive sunny days and the temperature has made it into the low 70sF (21C). Gone are the early morning sunrises and late sunsets, and the evenings are cool enough now to put the heat on.

Over the past week, the price of gasoline (petrol) increased another penny, bringing it up to 1.53 a liter. With the current exchange rate, this kept an equivalent U.S. gallon at $7.33. Meanwhile, the price of a liter of diesel rose to £1.56.

Friday saw the start of our latest small business market, with today the final day. So far, I’ve sold ten autographed novels, while Sylvia has sold three of her poetry books, thirteen of her new poetry book marks, and sixteen of her laminated poetry sheets. Hopefully, today will be another good day!

“A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called “leaves”) imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time–proof that humans can work magic.” ― Carl Sagan. 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 3 September, the first Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Adriano Banchieri, Italian organist, composer, poet, and monk; Francisco Acuña de Figueroa, Uruguayan poet (Toraidas); Sarah Orne Jewett, American author (Country of the Pointed Firs); ean Jaurès, French socialist (L’Humanité, Les Preuves); Wilhelm Bousset, German theologist and historian; Sally Benson, American writer (Meet Me In St. Louis); Willem Kooiman, Dutch theologist and church historian; Loren Eiseley, American anthropologist and natural science writer (The Unexpected Universe), and poet ((Another Kind of Autumn); Alison Lurie, American novelist (Pulitzer Prize – Foreign Affairs); John Robert Jones [John Dalmas], American sci-fi author (White Regiment, Lizard War); Cherry Barbara Grimm [Lockett], New Zealand sci-fi author (Nearest Fire); Caryl Churchill, English playwright; Eduardo Galeano, Uruguayan journalist and writer; Sergei Dovlatov, Russian writer; Mick Farren, English sci-fi author (Synaptic Manhunt, Citizen Phaid); Peter Morris, English historian of France; Spike Feresten, American television writer (Seinfeild); and Noah Baumbach, American, director, writer and filmmaker (The Squid and the Whale).

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 completed chapter eleven  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further twenty-four reviews arrived this week, bringing the total to 201. 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, please let me know.

Footsteps of someone running echoed off the nearby buildings.

Sear turned, leading with his pistol. He relaxed when he spotted Dabir rushing toward them.

“Allah … be … merciful.” Dabir struggled to catch his breath. “And may His justice strike down those responsible.”

Sear stepped in front of him to block access to the scene. “Don’t look—he’s dead.”

Dabir strained to see around Sear. “Perhaps it is someone I know. Please let me take a look.”

“Okay.” Sear stepped aside. “Be it on your head.”

Dabir gasped. “I-I recognize that man from somewhere. Are you sure he’s dead?”

“Positive. The piece of metal poking into his chest extends through his body and out the back.”

“Oh. May Allah have mercy on him.” Dabir held prayer beds in his right hand. “The police will come soon—I called them. Of course, soon might be two or three hours, or even longer.” He glanced around. “They will ask fewer questions if you and your friends aren’t here.”

“Can we stay in my room?” Sear scratched his stubble.

“Of course.” He pulled two keys from his pocket and handed them to Sear. “These are for your friends. Their rooms are next to yours.”

Sear beckoned Wasim and Malik. “Let’s clear the area and go to my room.” He turned and headed toward the hotel.

The brothers followed him.

Once inside the hotel, they climbed the stairs.

Sear handed each of them a key. “Check out your rooms and make sure no one is inside.” He pointed to his door. “Join me afterward, and we’ll try to plot our next move. Bring a chair with you as there’s only one in the room.” He left the door open for them.

Minutes later, Wasim and Malik entered carrying chairs.

After handing out bottles of water, the three men sat.

“So, what do we know?” Sear, who had met both men when they worked at the American embassy as investigators for the regional security office, and he was assigned as a junior case officer, glanced at each one in turn.

 “I remember when we worked in the RSO office, Bashari gave a lecture to the American community about Yemen’s historical sites.” Malik pursed his lips. “I think at one time he served as Yemen’s cultural attaché.”

“Yes. I remember.” Wasim glanced at Malik. “He was assigned to the embassies in the UK, France, and Germany, before returning to Yemen. He’s continued his efforts to preserve Yemen’s heritage, in particular, with the UNESCO cultural world sites.”

Sear nodded. “Do either of you have any idea where he lives now?”

“Yes.” Malik shifted in his chair. “Not the specific property, but Borak said Bashari lived in the Haddah area of the city.”

“That’s where wealthy people live.” Wasim grinned. “One day, we’d both like to live there.”

Sear scratched his itchy facial hair. “Any way to find out the exact location?”

“I know someone in the Political Security Organization. Let me give him a call.” Malik yanked his phone from a pocket in his thobe. He punched in a number from memory after putting it on speaker. “Hello, Tariq. This is Malik. I have a favor to ask.”

A deep voice chuckled. “I told you before my sister isn’t ready for marriage.”

Both men laughed.

“I was supposed to meet with Abdullah Bashari, the archeologist, but I lost the paper with his number and address.”

“Yes, I know of him. Let me check.” Fingers clicking on a keyboard sounded through the speaker. “Ah. No phone number, but I have an address. I’ll text it to you.”

“Thank you, my dear friend.”

“No problem, but lunch is on you next time.” Tariq chuckled as he broke the connection.

Moments later, a ping sounded on Malik’s phone. He glanced at the text. “Haddah Street, in the al Khorafi residential area,  not far from the Jordanian embassy.”

“Excellent.” Sear smiled. “I think we should send someone with a note to tell Bashari I’m here and ready to meet with him.”

Wasim nodded. “I’ll do it.”

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

Randall's Ramblings

Randall’s Ramblings, August 27, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been a drier week–at last! While the temperatures have struggled to reach into the upper 60s F (20C), there’s been a good amount of sunshine.  We’ve had cooler temperatures during the evenings and some of the leaves are already falling. I did manage to get some of the grass cut, which really needed it as it was getting pretty long.

Over the past week, the price of gasoline (petrol) increased another two pence, bringing it up to 1.53 a liter. With the current exchange rate, this kept an equivalent U.S. gallon at $7.26. Meanwhile, the price of a liter of diesel rose to £1.54.

“Read, read, read. Read everything – trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.” — William Faulkner. 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 27 August, the fourth and final Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Johann Georg Hamann, German counter-enlightenment philosopher (“Reason is language”); Herman Muntinghe, Dutch theologist (History of Mankind); Edward Beecher, American theologian; Albijn van de Abeele, Flemish author and painter; Gustave J Waffelaert, Flemish theologist and bishop of Bridge; Manuel Acuña, Mexican poet (Nocturno); Iwan Franko, Ukrainian writer and political activist; Amado Nervo [Juan Crisóstomo Ruiz de Nervo], Mexican writer and poet; Theodore Dreiser, merican novelist (Sister Carie, American Tragedy); Lloyd C. Douglas, American novelist (The Big Fisherman); C. S. Forester, English historical novelist (Horatio Hornblower); Xavier Villaurrutia, Mexican poet (Nocturno de los Angeles); Norah Lofts, British author (The Town House); Catherine Marshall, American editor and writer; Walter Heller, economist (Old Myths & New Realities); David Rowbotham, Australian poet and journalist; Ira Levin, American author (Rosemary Baby, Boys From Brazil, This Perfect Day); Antonia Fraser, British author and biographer (Mary Queen of Scots); Frank Yablans, American writer (North Dallas Forty); Michael Holroyd, author; Don Miguel Ruiz, Mexican spiritual teacher and author (The Four Agreements); and Tom Lanoye, Belgian author.

Any names familiar to you? there was one for me this week: C. S. Forester. 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 ten  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further eighteen reviews came in this week, bringing the total to 177. 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, please let me know.

Shatara stumbled.

The brothers yanked her to her feet. Without a word, they kept marching her along.

What’s that noise? Shatara struggled to keep pace with the brothers as they climbed a flight of stairs.

A door banged open, and the sounds increased.

We’re outside. But where are we?

Wazir and Yusuf marched her to the rear of a dilapidated vehicle.

While Yusuf fumbled in a pocket for the keys, Wazir held on tight to Shatara’s arm.

She winced. “You’re hurting me.”

Yusuf opened the trunk of the vehicle.

They scooted her to the edge. Without warning, they lifted her and shoved her inside the trunk.

“Aaaaaaaah”

Shatara screamed as the lid was slammed shut. She pulled off the hood.

Darkness.

The men climbed in the front seats. With jerking movements, the vehicle moved forward, as one of them maneuvered into the almost-deserted street.

Shatara became ill with the bouncing of the vehicle as the trunk filled with exhaust fumes. She screamed again and coughed, the acrid fumes burning her throat.

About fifteen minutes later, although she didn’t know for sure, the car came to a halt. The car doors opened and were slammed shut.

Shatara worked the hood back over her chador. What’s going to happen now?

One of the men opened the trunk, and together they yanked her out and helped her stand.

“Do not make a sound, or you will regret it.” Yusuf squeezed her arm. “Do you understand? No one will come to your rescue.”

“Y-Yes. Don’t hurt me.”

“We are going to go down a flight of stairs and take you through a door. Once inside the building, we will take you to your new home.”

Both men laughed.

Shatara slipped on the steps as they descended, banging a knee against the railing.

After they were inside the building and the exterior door was shut, Wazir removed her hood. “Do not attempt to run. There is no place for you to go.” He pointed down a dimly lit corridor. “You will be staying in a room on the right. Follow me.”

Wazir led the way, and Shatara followed, with Yusuf pushing her on a shoulder from behind.

After unlocking the third door on the right, Wazir entered.

Yusuf shoved her inside.

Shatara glanced around. Against the right wall, there was a bed with two blankets folded on the end of the mattress, and a pillow. Next to the bed was a small rickety table with a lamp, and beside it, a small chest of drawers. Next to the lamp was a full bottle of water. Basic but much better than the cell where they held me.

Wazir pointed to a closed door. “Your toilet is in there. There is no way to escape, so make yourself comfortable.

Both men chuckled.

“What about food? I’m hungry.”

“You will have to wait until the morning.” Yusuf marched to the door and held it open. “Time to go, Wazir.”

“Give me a minute.” He turned to Shatara. “Prince al Mishari will visit you in the morning.” Wazir shrugged. “He will decide whether you eat or starve to death.”

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

Uncategorized

Randall’s Ramblings, August 20, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been another week of topsy-turvy weather, in part from Storm Betty, which is lashing the UK with strong winds, lightening, and as much as a month’s worth of rain. In our area, we did manage to get some decent weather for a couple of days, although for the most part it’s been below par. At least there were some brights spots which allowed me to cut the grass before it got any longer.

Over the past week, the price of gasoline (petrol) increased another three pence, bringing it up to 1.51 a liter. With the current exchange rate, this increases an equivalent U.S. gallon up to $7.26. Meanwhile, the price of a liter of diesel rose to £1.52.

“Write while the heat is in you. The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with.” — Henry David Thoreau. 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 20 August, the third Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Peter Opmeer, Dutch church historian and humanist (Historia Martyrum); Thomas Corneille, French playwright (Timocrates); Bolesław Prus, Polish writer (The Outpost); Innokenti F Annenski, Russian poet and interpreter (Laodania); Jakub Bart-Ćišinski, Sorbian writer; Edgar Albert Guest, English-American poet and newspaperman; Dino Campana, Italian poet (Canti orfici); Paul Tillich, German-American theologist (Die sozial Entscheidung); H. P. Lovecraft, American horror writer (At the Mountains of Madness, Weird Tales); Tarjei Vesaas, Norwegian poet and author (Det Store Spelet); Vilhelm Moberg, Swedish author (The Emigrants) and historian; Salvatore Quasimodo, Italian poet, critic and translator (Nobel 1959); Jean Gebser, German-born author, linguist, and poet; Jeanne Stern, German screenwriter (The Condemned Village); Jacqueline Susann, American author (Valley of the Dolls); Vasily Aksyonov, Soviet-Russian novelist (The Burn); Greg Bear, American sci-fi author (2 Hugos, Eon, Eternity); Greg Egan, Australian science fiction and hard science author; and Marcus Mastin, American author.

Any names familiar to you? Once again,  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 completed chapter nine  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further twenty-six reviews came in this week, bringing the total to 159. Once again there are plenty of recommendations for me to consider, and I’m always appreciative of the time and effort people put into 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, please let me know.

After al Mishari departed, Shatara ripped the chador from her body and tossed it on the blanket. She leaned against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position with her knees up and her arms around them. What is to become of me? How will Baba ever find me?

As tears threatened to spill once again, a look of steely determination caressed her face. I will never betray Baba, but if I pretend to change my mind about marriage, will al Mishara allow me more freedom?

Shatara closed her eyes, thinking about the day she was whisked from her home. I was enjoying tea by the pool with Omm, sharing a dish of fasolia and khubz. I dipped the bread into the spicy pepper sauce and scooped the beans and tomatoes into my mouth.

Without warning, two men rushed around the pool, one on either side. They shoved Omm out of the way and grabbed me. One yanked my head back to stop me from escaping,  and the other pushed a needle into my arm.

Oh, I hope Omm wasn’t hurt.

Shatara opened her eyes and began to pray, the only sane part of her captivity.

The lightbulb popped on, signaling the paltry rations would be delivered soon.

Despite losing weight on the simple diet, her stomach rumbled in anticipation of her daily meal.

Moments later, the hatch slid open, and two small pieces of bread and a banana fell to the floor.

Allah be praised! My first banana since I was kidnapped. Shatara pushed the bread aside and peeled the banana, savoring every bite of the bruised fruit. After she finished, she broke the crust off the bread. No fresh water tonight. She dunked the bread in the remains of yesterday’s scummy water and shoved it in her mouth, gagging at the stench from the water.

Still hungry, she crawled onto the blanket and used the chador as a pillow. She cried herself to sleep.

She eventually woke. The light was no longer on, but there was moonlight filtering through the bars on the window. She spotted a shining star and focused on it. Oh, Baba. I hope this is you keeping watch over me.

Measured footsteps thudded along the corridor.

Shatara struggled into the chador seconds before the door was shoved open.

Two men stepped inside the cell, both gangly, with dark hair and scraggly beards.

One was slightly taller than the other and addressed Shatara. “I am Wazir and this is my brother, Yusuf. We are to take you to a new location.”

Yusuf pinched the end of his nose. “This place stinks. You are a mess.” He held out a black hood. “Put this on.”

“I have no control over the smell.” She pointed toward the waste bucket. “It is only emptied every two or three days.”

Yusuf shook his hand holding the hood. “I said, put this on.”

“Why? I have already seen your faces.”

“Do you always talk back?” Yusuf sighed. “If you must know, we do not want you to see where you’ve been held or where we are taking you.”

“It is for your own protection, should you be released.” Wazir pointed to the hood. “Take it—now.”

Shatara took the hood and pulled it over her chador. “I can’t see.”

“Good. That is the purpose of the hood.”

“How will I be able to walk?”

Yusuf grabbed one of her arms. “We will guide you.”

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

Randall's Ramblings

Randall’s Ramblings, August 13, 2023

Randall Krzak

Not much change over the past week with our local weather patterns. We still have below normal temperatures and rain/showers on most days. We did have a brief reprieve for about forty-eight hours when the temperature hit 72F (22C) with only one shower. Right now, we have overcast skies with more showers in the forecast, and the temperature is 59F (15C).

It took several months for the price of gasoline (petrol) to drop from a high of £1.67 a liter which we experienced in October 2022 to £1.41. Over the past three weeks, the price began increasing again, and is now up to £1.48 liter. With the current exchange rate, this make an equivalent U.S. gallon $7.10. The price is expected to  increase further.

“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 13 August, the second Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

William Caxton, English printer and translator, 1st to print in the English language (Histories of Troy); William Wotton, English theologian and scholar; John Dyer, Welsh painter and poet, (Grongar Hill); Nikolaus Lenau, Hungarian-German poet (Faust, Die Albigenser); Vladimir Odoevsky, Russian philosopher & writer; Joseph Alberdingk Thijm, Dutch poet (Dietsche Warande); Goldwin Smith, English historian and journalist; Rodolphe Bresdin, French visionary engraver and lithographer (Le Bon Samaritain); Rudolf Georg Binding, German songwriter and writer (Legenden Der Zeit); William Alexander Craigie, Scottish lexicographer (Skotlands Rimur); Jacqueline Reyneke van Stuwe, Dutch author; Howard Marks, British drug dealer and author (Mr Nice); Tom Perrotta, American novelist (Little Children); Amélie Nothomb, Belgian writer (Fear and Trembling); Will Clarke, American novelist (The Neon Palm of Madame Melançon); Kamila Shamsie, Pakistani British writer (Home Fire); and Ibram X. Kendi, American author and anti-racist activist.

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 Published Work

Frozen-Conquest-eBook-Cover-HRThis week, Frozen Conquest received its second Amazon review–another five star!  Here it is:

Awesome Cold Thriller

From his Antarctica-based outpost an arrogant billionaire, whose real motivation is power, hacks into the world’s banking systems and threatens anarchy. I’m on my second reading; great book.

Many thanks, Des, for taking the time to leave a review.

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I completed chapter eight  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further nineteen reviews came in this week, bringing the total to 133. As always, plenty of recommendations for me to consider.

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, please let me know.

Prince Hussein Khan al Mishari, a minor member of the House of Saud, crossed his arms as he stared at Shatara. “So, what is your answer?”

She stared at him before lowering her head. “Sir, I … I cannot marry you—at least not yet. I am only sixteen. I had hoped to wait until I was more than eighteen like my mother did.”

“Nonsense.” He waved a hand to dismiss her response before recrossing his arms. “Most females in Yemen marry before they are eighteen, some as young as eight or nine. Why should you be any different?”

She glanced at the dirty stone walls and floor of her prison before pointing to the waste bucket in a corner. “Sir, it is hard for me to contemplate my future with anyone when I’m kept in such horrible conditions. Even the rats refuse to eat the food I am given.”

“Sabberny ya rabb.” al Mishari shook his head. “I definitely need Allah to give me the patience to deal with you.”

“Someone kidnapped me off the street at least three weeks ago. I’m  the one who needs the fortitude to handle this situation.” She wiped her hand down the chador. “As you can see, this is dirty, and so are my clothes underneath. This never happened at my home. I’m also bored—there’s nothing to do but pray. Can’t I have a book or two?”

“You are a very impertinent, young lady.” He glared at her. “It is clear you were not taught proper manners by your parents.”

“They did so—they just believe in allowing my brother and me to express ourselves. Although they are Muslim, they’ve experienced life in other cultures and have an open mind to how things should be.”

He frowned. “Well, if you were my daughter or one of my wives, you would be taught to show proper respect.” He shook his head again. “It might be easier for both of us if you sign the document.”

“No. I told you before I would not lie about my father and sign your false statement condemning him. Nor do I want to marry you.”

al Mishari glanced around the cell. “Perhaps you would have a different opinion of me if you were kept in better surroundings. I do admit this is rather bleak.”

Shatara smiled. “At least you are showing some common sense. But I would rather be back in Haddah, enjoying my family’s mansion.”

He tapped a finger against his lips. “When I first came to Sana’a, I acquired a number of properties. I shall arrange for two of my men to move you late this evening when the streets are quiet.”

“Where will they take me?”

“It is not important where you will be as you will still be under guard at all times. We will speak later” He turned and opened the door. After locking it, he marched away.

More next time.

My Published Work – Promotions

The Kurdish Connection, Dangerous Alliance, Colombian Betrayal, Mission: Angola, and Frozen Conquest are participating in a Thrillers and Suspense promotion through the end of August. There are seventy-eight Mystery & Suspense, Mystery & Suspense / Thriller, and Romance / Suspense novels to choose from, so when you have a moment or two, please check it out.

Frozen Conquest and Colombian Betrayal are participating in an August ebook sales, deals & steals for mystery, suspense, thrillers and mayhem. Only two titles were allowed per author. There are fifty-eight books to check out in this one.

https://books.bookfunnel.com/mystery-romance2/6e3yxv7hc5

Here’s another promotion, called Vengeance. The Kurdish Connection and Dangerous Alliance are two of the sixty-nine participating titles.

https://books.bookfunnel.com/r…

And, finally, all of my novels are involved in a Heart-Pounding Reads promotion. There are 119 novels to choose from in this one.

https://books.bookfunnel.com/h…

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

Randall's Ramblings

Randall’s Ramblings, August 6, 2023

Randall Krzak

The days and weeks keep rolling by. Here we are already in August–where has the summer gone?  Despite the calendar ticking over, we’re still getting plenty of rain and lower-than-normal temperatures. However, the forecasters are predicting we’ll be receiving above average temperatures soon.

“In my later years, I have looked in the mirror each day and found a happy person staring back. Occasionally I wonder why I can be so happy. The answer is that every day of my life I’ve worked only for myself and for the joy that comes from writing and creating. The image in my mirror is not optimistic, but the result of optimal behavior.” — Ray Bradbury. 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 6 August, the first Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

François Fénelon, French Roman Catholic theologian and writer (Playing for Time); Luc de Clapiers, marquis de Vauvenargues, French writer; Alfred Tennyson, British Poet Laureate of Great Britain (The Charge of the Light Brigade); Thomas Alexander Browne, Australian writer (Robbery Under Arms); Fernando Canon, Filipino revolutionary general, poet, and the Philippines 1st National Chess Champion; Paul Claudel, French poet and playwright (L’Otage-1909); Emanuel Querido, Dutch author and publisher (N.V. Em. Querido Uitgeversmaatschappij); Charles Fort, American writer and researcher (specialized in anomalous phenomena); Louella Parsons, American gossip columnist; Scott Nearing, American sociologist, pacifist and author (The Good Life); John Middleton Murry, English poet and literary critic (Between Two Worlds); James Lees-Milne, English writer and architectural historian; Christa Reinig, German poet and writer (Idleness is the Root of All Love, The Tightrope Walker); J[anet] O[pal] Jeppson [nee Janet Asimov], author (2nd Experiment); Norman Wexler, American screenwriter; and Piers Anthony Dillingham Jacob, UK, sci-fi author (Chthon, Phthor).

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

My Published Work

Frozen-Conquest-eBook-Cover-HRThis week, Frozen Conquest received its first Amazon review–a five star!  Here it is:

If searching for a fun read full of action, adventure, and intrigue, Mr. Krzak’s Frozen Conquest is a must choice. The story moves quickly and for those who like clues, a few of those gems for you, too. Oh, did I mention humor? The author efficiently slides that in there rather cleverly I might add.

As I read the story, what came to mind is how fragile security is. At any given moment scammers, plotters, villains are out there seeking to destroy and disrupt lives. And for counterpoint are those zealously seeking to prevent evil from conquering in the end.

Most of us go through our daily lives without much thought to it. So much is out of our direct control with the advances in technology and methods of warfare.

Even better, hopefully, the author writes a sequel to further explore the character of Mr. Brown. He’s kind of an enigma. Does he do what he does to save humanity and the planet, or, for more selfish motives? I highly recommend this gem. Enjoy.

Many thanks to Cherry Blossom for this review!

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I completed chapter seven  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further eighteen reviews came in this week, bringing the total to 114. As always, plenty of recommendations for me to consider.

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, please let me know.

“Ah, yes, Sayyid Sear. We have been expecting you.” The man lifted a key from beneath the counter and pushed it toward Sear. “Don’t let the condition of our fine hotel fool you. For over two years, Sayyid Vincent has paid for every room, and he mandated the condition he wanted the hotel in to keep prying eyes away. Some of the rooms are occupied from time to time by people like you, while others use this as a transit point away from the fighting.”

Sounds like Vincent. “Shukran. Where is my room?”

“One floor up. There aren’t any rooms on the ground floor. However, there is an outside exit near your room.” The man pulled a small package from under the counter. “Vincent said you might need this.”

Sear nodded. “What is your name, so I can tell Vincent how helpful you’ve been?”

The man smiled and dipped his head. “My name isn’t important, but my parents called me Dabir.”

“Nice to meet you, Dabir. I’ll go to my room and relax. I’m expecting two visitors.”

“Yes, Sayyid. One of them was here earlier with the package from Vincent.”

Must have been Malik. “Shukran. I will speak with you later.”

Dabir pointed. “Take the stairs to the first floor, and your room is to the right.”

Sear picked up the package and headed to the stairs. When he reached his room, he used the old-fashioned skeleton key to unlock the door. Inside, a single bed, a small chest of drawers, and a bedside table. He opened an interior door and stuck his head inside. Whoa! Someone forgot to clean this. Worse than using a hole dug along the Zambezi River.

His phone beeped. He pulled it out and glanced at the text.

We’re on the hotel’s street—three motorcycles. Be outside in three minutes.

Sear responded, shoved his phone in his back pocket, and opened the package.

Excellent. A SIG Sauer P-226, three magazines, and a holster. I won’t feel naked. He attached the holster to his belt and loaded the pistol, putting the other two magazines in a small backpack he pulled from his carryon luggage. Satisfied he was ready, Sear left the room and headed through the side exit.

Outside once again, Sear headed to the street and looked both ways. From the right, he spotted three motorcycles and a car heading in his direction.

As the vehicles approached, the car nudged the rear motorcycle.

The motorcyclist swerved out of the way.

The car pulled alongside.

Boom!

More next time.

My Published Work – Promotions

The Kurdish Connection, Dangerous Alliance, Colombian Betrayal, Mission: Angola, and Frozen Conquest are participating in a Thrillers and Suspense promotion through the end of August. There are seventy-eight Mystery & Suspense, Mystery & Suspense / Thriller, and Romance / Suspense novels to choose from, so when you have a moment or two, please check it out.

Frozen Conquest and Colombian Betrayal are participating in an August ebook sales, deals & steals for mystery, suspense, thrillers and mayhem. Only two titles were allowed per author. There are fifty-eight books to check out in this one.

https://books.bookfunnel.com/mystery-romance2/6e3yxv7hc5

Here’s another promotion, called Vengeance. The Kurdish Connection and Dangerous Alliance are two of the sixty-nine participating titles.

https://books.bookfunnel.com/r…

And, finally, all of my novels are involved in a Heart-Pounding Reads promotion. There are 119 novels to choose from in this one.

https://books.bookfunnel.com/h…

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

Uncategorized

Randall’s Ramblings, July 30, 2023

Randall Krzak

We had a great visit with our son, but as normal, it was way too short. He’s back in Washington, D.C now, but he’ll be back again at Christmas. We already miss him!

The past three days were the latest small business market at the local mall. We did very well. I signed nineteen copies of my books, while Sylvia sold eighteen of her laminated poetry sheets, eight of her bookmarks, and four of her poetry books. The next market isn’t until the 1st of September, and we’re already looking at adding some additional bookmarks to the table.

“A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called “leaves”) imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time–proof that humans can work magic.”
― Carl Sagan. 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 30 July, the fifth and final Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Giorgio Vasari, Italian painter and art historian (Vasari’s Lives); Samuel Rogers, English poet (Italy, a poem); Emily Bronte,  English novelist (Wuthering Heights); Helena Blavatsky, Russian occultist, philosopher, and author (co-founded Theosophical Society); Richard Haldane, British viscount and lord-chancellor (Life of A Smith); Thorstein Veblen, American economist (Theory of the Leisure Class-1899); Robert R. McCormick, American editor and publisher (Chicago Tribune); Blanche Knopf, American publisher, president of Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. and wife of publisher Alfred A. Knopf Sr.; Jacques de Kadt, Dutch politician and writer (Fascism is War!); Salvador Novo, Mexican writer and poet; C. Northcote Parkinson, English historian (Pursuit of Progress); Karl Guttmann, Austrian-Dutch playwright and director (Albee/Pinter); Michael Morris, 3rd Baron Killanin, MBE, TD, Irish journalist, author, sports official (6th President International Olympic Committee 1972-80); Berniece Baker Miracle, American writer (My Sister Marilyn) and half-sister of Marilyn Monroe; William H. Gass, American novelist and philosopher (Omensetter’s Luck); Peter Trevenen Thwaites, British Brigadier General and playwright (Love or money); Tony Lip [Frank Anthony Vallelonga], American author and actor (Sopranos, Donnie Brasco, Good Fellas); Patrick Modiano, French novelist (Nobel 2014); and Deacon Lunchbox [Timothy Tyson Ruttenber], American poet and performance artist.

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

My Published Work – Promotions

The Kurdish Connection, Dangerous Alliance, Colombian Betrayal, Mission: Angola, and Frozen Conquest are participating in a Thrillers and Suspense promotion through the end of August. There are seventy-eight Mystery & Suspense, Mystery & Suspense / Thriller, and Romance / Suspense novels to choose from, so when you have a moment or two, please check it out.

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I completed chapter six  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. As always, it’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further twenty-three reviews came in this week, bringing the total to ninety-six. As always, plenty of recommendations for me to consider.

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, please let me know.

Sear waited until several passengers had disembarked before following. The intense heat hit him as he left the plane. When they entered the one-story terminal building, the heat only slightly dissipated.

Holding up the temporary UN credentials he had been given by Vincent, he nodded to an official near the exit.

The man glanced at the documents and at Sear’s face before waving him on.

Outside again in the oppressive heat, Sear searched for a taxi. He spotted two yellow and white vehicles parked near a taxi sign, with the drivers leaning against the doors. On top of each car was a yellow sign with black Arabic script indicating they were taxis.

Sear, who spoke Arabic, Farsi, Turkish, French, and Spanish, approached them. He spoke in Arabic. “Salam Alaikum.”

Both men responded. “Wa Alaykum as-salam.”

“Do you know the Al Bilad Hotel?”

The first driver shook his head.

The second one nodded and smiled. “Yes, I know where it is, Sayyid. I will take you.”

Sear climbed into the back seat of the taxi, breathing through his mouth to avoid the stench of something rotten inside. He rolled down the window as they departed, and the breeze of the moving vehicle seemed to help with the smell.

The driver kept looking in the rearview mirror. “Sayyid, are you here for business? Not too many tourists come to Sana’s right now because of the fighting.”

“Yes. I’m here to assist a friend.”

“Yes, Sayyid. If you need to find your way around the city, I am Cemal, and I will take you.”

“Shukran.” Sear smiled. “My friend is from Sana’a, so I will be in good hands.”

“Understood, Sayyid.”

Sear pulled out his cell phone and checked for messages. There were two:

Meet you at the hotel. Bringing your favorite weapon. Malik 

On my way to the hotel, accompanied by a representative of your friend. Wasim

 Sear grinned. Great. Things are falling into place. I’ll feel better being armed. Assume Wasim is bringing someone who knows how to contact Bashari. After acknowledging both texts, he slipped the phone into his pocket and gazed out the window.

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, July 23, 2023

Randall Krzak

It’s been another wet week, with rain five of the past seven days. Sometimes there were light showers while at other times there were heavy downpours. The temperatures are also lower than normal. Right now, it’s 54F (13C) but feels like 44F/7C. Of course, the wind coming from the north is keeping the temperatures down.

We’ve had a great week despite the weather as our son, who lives in Washington, D.C., arrived on Monday for a ten-day visit. On Thursday, one of the dry days, we went to Linlithgow Palace, the birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scots. The palace was one of the principal residences of the monarchs of Scotland in the 15th and 16th centuries, but was burned out in 1746. However, it’s still worth a visit if you’re in the area.

“Read, read, read. Read everything – trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.” – William Faulkner. 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 23 July, the fourth and final Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/):

Francis Blomefield, English topographer (History of Norfolk); Coventry Patmore, English poet and critic (The Angel in the House); Edmund John Armstrong, Irish poet; Salvador de Madariaga y Rojo, Spanish diplomat and writer (Englishmen, Frenchmen, Spaniards); Gluyas Williams, American cartoonist (Fellows Citizen); Raymond Chandler, American-British mystery novelist and screenwriter (Farewell My Lovely; The Long Goodbye; The Big Sleep); Elspeth Huxley, English author (The Flame Trees of Thika and The Mottled Lizard); Michael Foot, British politician (L) and writer, Leader of the Opposition (1980-83); Ronald Ridout, English school textbook author (English Today); Cyril M. Kornbluth, American sci-fi writer (Space Merchants); Gavin Lambert, British-American screenwriter (Inside Daisy Clover); Ludvik Vaculik, Czech writer (Two Thousand Words); Hubert Selby Jr., American author (Last Exit to Brooklyn); Guy Fournier, French Canadian author and screenwriter; Nicholas Barrington, British high commissioner (Pakistan) and author (A passage to Nuristan: exploring the mysterious Afghan hinterland); and Carl Phillips, American poet (“Then the War” – 2023 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry).

Any names familiar to you? There were two for me this week: Michael Foot and Nicholas Barrington. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!

My Published Work – Promotions

The Kurdish Connection, Dangerous Alliance, Colombian Betrayal, Mission: Angola, and Frozen Conquest are participating in a Thrillers and Suspense promotion through the end of August. There are seventy-eight Mystery & Suspense, Mystery & Suspense / Thriller, and Romance / Suspense novels to choose from, so when you have a moment or two, please check it out.

My Work In Progress

Mission- YemenThis week, I completed chapter five  of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. It’s been posted to the two online writing sites I use. A further twenty-two reviews came in this week, bringing the total to seventy-three. As always, plenty of recommendations for me to consider.

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, please let me know.

A man with salt and pepper hair and dark brown eyes sat in a window seat on the United Nations flight as it circled Sana’a International Airport as it prepared to land. Squashed into the seat by the huge man sitting in the middle, he gazed out the window as he rubbed the three-day growth on his face. He grabbed the armrests as the aircraft rocked in the slight turbulence. I hate airplanes. Why couldn’t I have driven in? Although I suppose a UN flight might be safer than one of the resumed commercial flights.

His real name long forgotten, the man now known as Xavier Sear continued to study the digital file provided by Ron Vincent. Sear received the file while attending the twentieth wedding anniversary of long-time friends, João and Catarina Regaleira. João had convinced him to help rescue an Angolan doctor who had been kidnapped by guerillas in the Democratic Republic of the Congo while working for the Christian Aid Mission. Sear met up with Vincent while in Lisbon and received his latest mission.

Once a member of the CIA’s Special Activities Division (SAD), responsible for covert and paramilitary operations, Sear now worked as a free-lance contractor. While he could accept or reject any assignment, he usually agreed to those Vincent recommended. Hope this one is as easy as the one in the DRC. Not that any of the missions Vincent gives me are easy.

He clicked a button to return to the beginning of the file. The first item was a series of photos depicting the Bashari family: Abdullah; his wife, Yasmin Rashid; sixteen-year-old daughter, Shatara; and fourteen-year-old son, Zahid. A lovely looking family. Their love for each other is apparent in their expressions throughout the pictures.

The plane rocked again as the landing wheels locked into place.

Sear closed the file, removed the thumb drive, and shut down his iPad before stowing it in his carryon bag, shoved between his legs. He inched the drive into his front pocket. Don’t want to lose this.

The aircraft bounced once as it landed before the pilot leveled off and rocketed toward the terminal.

Sear clung onto the armrests. Can’t blame the pilot for hurrying. We’re a sitting target and could be caught up in the fighting between the Saudi-led coalition and the Houthis. I hope Malik and Qasim received the message I’m arriving today. If not, I’ll have to go to ground until I can contact them.

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