Thriller – Page 6 – Writing by Randall

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Randall’s Ramblings, February 11, 2024

February 11, 2024 Randall Krzak

As we rapidly move towards the middle of the month, the weather continues to create some issues. While we had a forecast of snow for our region, it missed us, although other parts of the UK were hit. During the week, we had wind gusts exceeding fifty-five MPH, but fortunately, there didn’t appear to be must damage. At the moment, there’s a light rain, which is expected to be around most of the day.

The price of gasoline (petrol) and diesel both edged upward this week, with gasoline adding two pence a liter to £1.39 and diesel increased by another penny to £1.47. As a result, and with the current exchange rate between the pound and the dollar, an equivalent U.S. gallon of gasoline is now $6.61, an increase of seven cents, while diesel topped out at $6.99, climbing four cents.

Last weekend’s small business market was a quiet event, but the mall was devoid of the normal weekend traffic. Even so, we did okay. I sold thirteen autographed novels, while Sylvia sold fourteen laminated poetry sheets, eleven bookmarks, and one poetry book. The next market will be held the beginning of March, and we hope to see more shoppers browsing the stalls.

“When all else fails, write what your heart tells you. You can’t depend on your eyes, when your imagination is out of focus.” – Mark Twain. Compliments of https://press.barnesandnoble.com/bnpress-blog/inspirational-quotes-writing/.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on February 11, the second Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

John Wtenbogaert, Dutch theologist (Kerckelicke history); Honoré d’Urfé, French writer; Bernard Le Bovier Fontenelle, French scientist and writer (Plurality of Worlds); Marie-Joseph de Chénier, French poet (Caïus Gracchus); Lydia Maria Child, American author, journalist and abolitionist (Juvenile Miscellany); Otto Ludwig, German writer and critic; Hermann Allmers, German poet (Feldeinsamkeit); Rachilde [Marguerite Vallette-Eymery], French author (Monsieur Venus); Else Lasker-Schüler, German writer; Elsa Beskow, Swedish children’s author and illustrator (Tale of the Little Little Old Woman); John van Melle, South African writer (Bart Nel); Beb Vuyk, Dutch-Indonesian writer (Camp Diary); E. W. Swanton, English author and sports commentator (cricket – BBC Radio); Sutan Takdir Alishahbana, Indonesian linguist and writer (Poedjangga Baroe); Roy Fuller, English poet and novelist (Lost Season); Patrick Leigh Fermor, English soldier and travel writer (A Time of Gifts); Sidney Sheldon, American novelist and playwright (Master of the Game, Bloodline, The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer); Daniel F. Galouye, American sci-fi author (Dark Universe, Last Leap); Larry Merchant, American boxing author and analyst (International Boxing Hall of Fame; HBO, Showtime); Jerome Lowenthal, American concert pianist, and educator (Julliard; Jerusalem Academy of Music); Lodewijk Boer, Dutch violist, librettist, actor, and playwright (The Family); Jane Yolen, American sci-fi and children’s literature author and poet (Spider Jane; Heart’s Blood); Susan Bernard, American author, actress (Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!) Playboy playmate (Dec, 1966); Wesley Strick, American screenwriter; Mo Willems, American author and screenwriter (Sesame Street); and Julio Torres, Salvadoran writer and comedian (Saturday Night Live, Los Espookys).

Any names familiar to you? There was one for me this time: Sidney Sheldon. 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- Yemen As I previously mentioned, I penned chapters 22-30 of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2 during the Xmas market. I’m slowly typing up and posted them to the two online subscription writing sites I use. Other things got in the way so I didn’t finish typing and posting chapter twenty-seven as I had planned.

Reviewers provided another six critiques, bringing the total to 505. 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:

Prince Hussein sat behind the desk and pulled out an iPad from a drawer. After logging in, he checked for new emails. There was one:

Hello, brother! I will be with you in two days. I hope you are planning a good party for me.

Prince Hussein grimaced as he typed. I hope so, too. But you better start following the plan.

Someone knocked on the door.

Now what? “Come in.”

Yusuf entered. “Excuse me, Prince Hussein. I wanted to give you an update on the attendees for Prince Sami’s party.”

“Hmm.” Prince Hussein frowned. “Go ahead.”

“Many of those in the diplomatic community are afraid to attend because of your connection to the Saudi royal family. They believe their attendance will indicate approval of what Saudi Arabia is doing in Yemen.”

“As expected. Continue.”

“China, Pakistan, and Malaysia have all accepted the invitation. I expect to hear from Russia and some others soon.”

Prince Hussein nodded. “What about local dignitaries?”

“So far, only the chief of police has accepted. But I’m still waiting for word from some of the cabinet. Of course, the prime minister declined, as expected.”

“What about the entertainment?”

Yusuf grinned. “Wazir and I have secured several young people who will perform as required.”

“That should please Prince Sami.” Wish he’d get over his predilection for public orgies. “Do what is necessary to give him a pleasing show—but not too graphic.” He waved a hand in dismissal.

“As you so order, Prince Hussein.” Yusuf bowed and left the office. He walked along the corridor and joined Wazir. “Everything is going to plan. If we are fortunate, Prince Sami will be indebted to us and grant us the favor we desire.”

Wazir nodded. “To be free of the tragedies befalling Yemen would be most pleasing. However, do you think things would be better for us in Saudi Arabia?”

“No way to know for sure. But if Ansar Allah finds out we are helping Prince Hussein, they will execute us after we are flogged to within an inch of our lives.” Yusuf’s body shook. “Then our bodies will be paraded through the streets as a warning to others.”

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 send me a note. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.

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Randall’s Ramblings, December 31, 2023

December 31, 2023 Randall Krzak

Now that the last day of 2023 is upon us, I’d like to wish everyone a safe, joyous, prosperous and healthy new year.

Happy 2024, everyone!

The past few weeks have been extremely busy, hence the lack of weekly posts. During the twenty-one days of the Xmas market, I sold 127 autographed copies of my books. Meanwhile, Sylvia sold almost 200 copies of her laminated poetry sheets and book marks. In addition, a dozen of her poetry books found new homes.

During the past ten days, our son visited from Washington, D.C. Although a short visit, it’s always great to have him with us. We miss him already!

Motorists received good news at the pumps during this period as there was another decrease in gasoline (petrol) prices, with a further six pence shaved off the price to £1.36 a liter. However, with the current exchange rate, the equivalent price of a U.S. gallon dropped twenty-six cents to $6.54. Meanwhile, diesel dropped a penny a liter to £1.44, a decrease of seven pence per liter, but with the exchange rate, this actually led to a decrease of thirty cents a gallon to $6.92.

“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.

I received good news on Friday.

Ultimate Escalation, which is competing for the 2023 Ultimate Escalation cover art Chanticleer International Global Thriller Book Awards, has move from the long list to the short list. There’s still a long way to go in the competition, 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 updates as Ultimate Escalation moves through the competition.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on December 31st, the fourth and final Sunday of the month and of 2023. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Andreas Vesalius, Flemish physician and anatomist (De humani corporis fabrica); Horacio Quiroga, Uruguayan playwright, poet, and short story writer (Anaconda, El Crimen del Otro)physician and anatomist (De humani corporis fabrica); Silvio Antoniano, Italian cardinal and theologist (Tre libri); Marie d’Agoult (Daniel Stern), French author (Knife); Giovanni Pascoli, Italian classicist & poet; Alfredo Panzini, Italian author (Dizionario Moderno); Lawrence Beesley, English journalist and author; Jacob Israël de Haan, Dutch poet/writer (Pipelines, Jewish Song); Max Lamberty, Flemish sociologist & author (Flemish Resurrection); Tadeusz Breza, Polish writer (The Bronze Gate); Dal Stivens, Australian novelist; Taylor Mead, American writer, actor and performer (Factory, Taylor Mead’s Ass); Dieter Noll, German writer (Die Abenteuer des Werner Holt); Veijo Meri, Finnish writer; Bob Shaw, Northern Irish sci-fi author (Light of Other Days, The Ragged Astronauts); Xavier Chamorro Cardenal, Nicaraguan journalist and newspaper editor (La Prensa; El Nuevo Diario); Edward Bunker, American Crime novelist (No Beast So Fierce; Animal Factory), actor (Straight Time; Reservoir Dogs), screenwriter, and felon; Rolf Haufs, German writer; Nicolas Born, German writer; Ellen Datlow, American editor; Susan Shwartz, American author; Nicholas Sparks, American author (The Notebook); and Junot Díaz, Dominican-American writer and professor (The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao – Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 2008).

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- Yemen During the Xmas market, I penned chapters 22-30 of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2. Now I have to type up the chapters and post them to the two online subscription writing sites I use. The challenge will be to decipher my writing!

Reviewers provided another sixteen critiques, bringing the total to 442. 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.

I’ll resume posting snippets 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 did add more to a new chapter four when time permitted at the Xmas market and hope to finalize it soon.

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.

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 19, 2023

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- Yemen This 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.

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 12, 2023

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- Yemen This 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.

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.

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Randall’s Ramblings, October 29, 2023

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- Yemen I 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.

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.

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Randall’s Ramblings, October 22, 2023

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- Yemen This 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.

“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.

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Randall’s Ramblings, September 15, 2023

October 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- Yemen With 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.

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?”

“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.

More next time.

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Randall’s Ramblings, September 24, 2023

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- Yemen This 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.

“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.

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Randall’s Ramblings, September 17, 2023

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.

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- Yemen This 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.

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.

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Randall’s Ramblings, September 10, 2023

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.

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- Yemen This 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.

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.

Tag: Thriller

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