Serial Saturday–Diamonds in the Cave (9)

The Visitation

For several days, Sister Salome’s misplaced communicator lay mysteriously smashed to smithereens on the footpath. That worried me.

The bath I was in had become too cold to enjoy, and a strange twilight glow hung over the horizon as the second sun began to make a shy appearance for Pilgrim spring. What if someone found the communicator fragments? Would they trace it back to me?

I turned on the hot tap and heated up the water.

The bath then was hot, but I went cold. ‘I hope they don’t find my…’ I said, and finished the sentence in my mind, ‘journal? That would incriminate me.’ I stepped out of the bath, dried myself off and wrapped the gown around my body. I can’t let them find that. I can’t let them see the smashed communicator. I can’t let them know what I’ve been up to.

Gums were already flapping since the first Kirk visit and sharing of honey biscuits. Following that occasion, he requested my company each day to read to him—Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, —that’s all I found in the Convent library—kid’s books. But Kirk didn’t mind. He liked my voice, he said. And I liked the endless supply of Frau Biar’s honey biscuits, kuchen and strudel…and Kirk’s easy going childlike nature… and his muscles. Did I say his muscles? No harm in looking, I remember Maggie saying. Besides, I was sorry for him, blinded and all alone so far away from Earth. And anyway, what’s wrong with a bit of colour in this dull cloister? Most importantly, Kirk’s attention on me, distracted the community of gossips from my plan—to gather intelligence on Günter’s whereabouts and to continue to find the thread to unravel the Taylor’s tight-knit alibi concerning their connection with Boris and the murders of John and others. My photographic evidence had been incinerated, it would seem.

I strolled down the stairs, out the huge oak entrance doors and to the path, where I aimed to surreptitiously sweep the offending bits of communicator into the bushes and bury them under some leaves. That was the plan…

[continued on Wattpad…]

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2023

Feature Photo: Gargoyles presiding over Paris © L.M. Kling 1998

***

And now, for some Weekend Reading…

Go on a reading binge and discover the up close, personal and rather awkward relationship between Gunter and that nasty piece of cockroach-alien work Boris

And the Mischief and Mayhem Boris manufactures in…

The Lost World of the Wends

Or

For Some real, outback Aussie adventure…

Click on the links for:

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Serial Saturday–Diamonds in the Cave (5)

Safe but not Sound

Through the tent window, a thick cluster of stars spilt over the Milky Way. Dawn cast its frail light over Salome asleep one side of me, and Günter twitching on the other side. He muttered in sleep-speak, arguing. ‘No-no-no…you’re kidding me…no, I won’t…you must, you owe him…but my son…I won’t go…’

Best my mother didn’t know what was happening. She’d stress. Her blood pressure would rise, her feet would swell, and she’d need a larger pair of slippers. Not a good look for the Admiral of the Fleet. She could do with some Russian tablets for her blood pressure.

‘No!’ Günter screamed and snapped out of his doze. ‘What? Did you say something?’

‘Nothing! One of your nightmares.’ I needed to distract him from the distress of his night terrors. See? I am thinking of him. I took his hand and placed it on my tummy. ‘Can you feel it? The baby’s kicking.’

Günter softened and smiled. ‘What a cheeky baby! We’ll call him Philippe if it’s a boy, remember?’

‘Yes, Philippe is a good name, for a boy. Philippe Augustus, as your father was August Philippe.’

Günter withdrew his hand and turned.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘It’s still early, go to sleep.’

I did as he commanded. Best not to cause waves. Best to wait for the right time and then ask. Thus, I held onto my questions and rode with them tucked inside the rest of the day’s journey to the Convent.

[Read how the cosy carpet of Minna’s life with Günter is pulled from under her in the continuation of Chapter 5 on Wattpad.]

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2023

Photo: The Door, Will, Switzerland © Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2014

***

The first story of Boris’ exploits set on the Pilgrim Planet…

The Lost World of the Wends

In the mid-nineteenth century, a village of Wends, on their way to Australia, mysteriously disappeared…

Who was responsible? How did they vanish?

Want to know more about the trials and tribulations of these missing people from Nineteenth Century Eastern Europe?

Click on the link below:

The Lost World of the Wends   

Serial Story Saturday–Diamonds in the Cave (2)

[Diamonds in the Cave–

Undercover Minna is building up a case against her enemies Maggie and Tails. Her life and plans unravel as her enemies incite the Wend village to hunt witches. And Minna becomes their main target.

In the coming episode Minna receives bad news. She and her husband must move from their idyllic life in Luthertal. Read the complete chapter (or chapters 1&2) on Diamonds in the Cave on Wattpad]

The Habit of Playing the Devil’s Advocate

Light streamed through the slatted shutters and lace curtains. Had morning broken so soon? I rose and opened the window to greet the day. Pastel lime-green wispy clouds streaked the sky. Luminous clouds shone against the black night sky. The stellar show brightened and dimmed as dying coals on a fire do. I stood at the window transfixed by the cosmic aurora so brilliant that the land was touched with an eerie glow.

‘Wow!’ I exclaimed and scampered back to the bed and Günter buried under the quilt. ‘Günter! Quick! The sky is brilliant!’

Günter dug himself deeper into the bed linen and mumbled, ‘Just let me sleep! I’ve got to get up early to milk the cows.’

I sighed and gazed out the window watching the dying star for a few moments and then crawled back into bed.

 ‘You need your sleep. I understand. Anyway, you’ve seen more awesome cosmic fireworks when you traversed the galaxy with Boris as his 2-i-C.’ I was glad he was free of Boris’ hold and those days were behind him.

Wide awake, I lay in bed on my back, watching the light dancing on the ceiling. Under the covers Günter slumbered. He rolled towards me and draped an arm around my mountainous waist. Concerned that it was not good for Günter to be buried, carefully I peeled back the covers. I turned and stroked his hair from his face. I mused at how dark his hair looked in the night. As Andreas it was ash blonde. The lights brightened for a moment. In the dusky hues of the room, I imagined Günter as I had met on the beach all those years ago, ebony locks cascading over his tanned neck. I withdrew my hand and whispered, ‘No!’

Then I shook him. ‘Günter! Your hair’s gone dark.’

‘Really?’ Günter rolled the other way. The light went out turning the room pitch black again.

I wandered into the kitchen, the light of morning glaring in my sleepy eyes.

‘What time is it?’ I asked Salome and then poured myself a cup of tea.

It was the way she emphasized “talk”.

‘What do you want to talk about?’ I asked, gazing at her.

Salome leant forward, clutched her knees with each hand and locked eyes with me. ‘I’ll get to the point.’

‘What point?’

‘Boris is back.’

I choked on my tea. ‘No!’

‘Yes, and we need Günter’s help.’ The nun flattened the white tablecloth over the roughly hewn wooden table.

‘You can’t take him; I’m having his baby.’

‘I’m sorry, you must understand this is of intergalactic importance—not to mention Earth. You’ll have to manage without him for a while.’

‘I can’t. I won’t! Can’t you find someone else?’

‘There is no one else.’ The holy sister’s words were infallible.

Stars clustered before my eyes. The headache intensified. Pounding. Pounding.

‘I have to go lie down…’ I staggered as far as the armchair before flopping into it.

My world turned white and hazy…

[continued on Wattpad…click on the link Diamonds in the Cave (2)]

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2023

Feature Photo: Seacliff Sun © L.M. Kling 2016

***

Read more, and lose yourself in this tale where the nineteenth century meets the twenty-first…

Just click on the link:

The Lost World of the Wends

Easter Treat

Mission for Free – An Easter Treat…

If you are wanting space adventure and the mischief and mayhem that alien cockroach Boris creates…

A Taste from Mission of the Unwilling (2nd Edition)

Avoiding Monica’s Playroom, (I thought Maggie might be lurking there), I headed for the Driver room. Would Günter zap back to a Grey and be piloting there? Or would just his apes be in the Driver room? I approached the junction where the right passage led to that room of monitors and Günter. I sensed someone sliding along the wall behind me and looked back.

A lump lodged in my throat. Not the Grey Nurse again!

‘Where is he?’ She tugged at my collar choking me. ‘You go to him—get him. I want him.’ Does she ever give up?

‘If you’re that desperate, find him yourself.’ I veered the other way, ducked around the next corner, and lost her.

I headed for the Engine room. I had to see John and talk to him about all my troubles. And warn him Boris might be back. What I liked about John was he didn’t talk much; he just sat there and listened.

I entered the maze of towering machines, pumps, and raw veins of bound wires. Anxious, at every sound of a swish behind me, I checked my back. Every wheeze, and I slammed myself up against the closest engine cowling, flattening myself for cover. I reached John’s small office and lurched through the entrance.

Hands gripped around my eyes. Darkness, even darker.

‘We must leave here,’ a deep voice said. ‘Now.’

‘Why?’

‘It is not safe; there has been an accident.’

‘Günter, is that you?’

He pushed me, guiding me. Something oily underfoot made me slip. He held me. Then carried me out.

In the light of the corridor, I blinked. Günter appeared pale. His forehead was covered in beads of perspiration. And as he held me, he trembled.

My shoe stuck to the floor. I lifted my foot. On the tiles, a bloodstained shoe print.

‘W-what’s going on?’ I asked.

‘I-it is J-John…’ Günter rasped. ‘I-didn’t want you…to see…’

‘John? Is he…no, not John…he can’t be…’ I moved to enter the engineering room.

‘No danger.’ Günter pulled me back. ‘He is…he is gone.’

Günter cradled me in his arms as we both wept.

***

Continue to feast on this story over the Holiday season.

A treat for all my friends and followers.

Download for free (from April 9—13) from Kindle

Click here on Mission of the Unwilling

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2022

Feature Photo: Mission of the Unwilling cover © L.M. Kling 2022 (UFO © Liz Maxted)

Mission For Free–A New Beginning

A New Beginning

Where to start? That is the question and challenge for every author as they embark on writing that “Great (insert your country of choice) novel”.

For years my first novel, Mission of the Unwilling has languished on the virtual shelves of Amazon mostly unread, unloved. Why?

So, I asked the team at Indie Scriptorium to have a look at the story and give feedback. Elsie commented that some scenes were too confronting and caused her to have nightmares. Boris can have that effect.

Mary apologized and said that I needed to rewrite the first chapter as there wasn’t enough information to keep the reader engaged.

So, for me, the work began…and a new chapter, a new beginning evolved. Oh, and some of the more “silencey of the lambs” bits were toned down. It worried me that Boris might be giving my readers nightmares.

Anyway, it will cost you nothing to download a copy of Mission of the Unwilling (second edition). It’s free on Kindle from today (23 December) until Tuesday 27 December.

[Extract from Mission of the Unwilling (2nd Ed)

PREAMBLE

ABDUCTED…ALMOST

October 1986

Minna: reflections from her diary

One Friday night in late autumn, I ventured up the dimly lit path of the university grounds to North Terrace and waited to cross at the lights. The air, although well into spring, October, in fact, still had a bite in it. Not that the chill deterred me from wearing a cotton plaid mini dress that I had discovered in my mother’s wardrobe. I often dipped into her 1960’s collection of fashion icons, especially when she’s away on one of her frequent business trips. I like the 1960’s. Although I’ve flirted with the buffed up and permed hair of current fashion, I’ve reverted to my natural long straight blonde locks. Günter likes my hair “natural” as he puts it.

I glanced at my watch. 6:00pm. The car traffic was at its peak, but the university student mass had begun to peter out. I smiled. That’ll be me, next year.

As it’s Friday night shopping, I anticipated the shops in Rundle Mall to be open. A chance to scout around the city’s dress and record shops before heading home and then off to a night at the movies with my friends from youth group, Monica and Liesel.

I sighed. The only problem with movies is that we can never decide what to see. As almost graduating high school students, Liesel and I would be hankering for a racy adventure or science fiction and Monica, who’s four years older than us, would be the ultimate wet blanket wanting to see only soppy love stories.

To my right, a voice with a distinct German accent, ‘Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’

Ah! Günter, I thought. Voice doesn’t sound familiar, though. Not Günter’s warm deep voice.

I turned abruptly intending to give my standard closed response, of a sharp “No!” However, on closer inspection, this owner of the lame line appeared familiar. But who? Dressed for power. Styled in an Italian-made dark business suit, up and coming, right and ready for money-making, and to impress the ladies in town. The finely cut features of his face and neatly cut ash-blonde hair made him an ideal candidate for a fashion magazine or David Jones catalogue. I gathered the impression that this familiar man was trying to be the world’s most eligible bachelor. However, despite all the familiarity and fine appearance, something about him was not right. I was suspicious. But not so suspicious to be unfriendly to him.

‘Now isn’t it amazing that we should meet, on a day, in a place at such a time as this,’ the model man said.

‘Perhaps,’ I replied whilst staring straight ahead. The pedestrian lights turned to “walk” and we strode over North Terrace to Pulteney Street.

‘We must have coffee and catch up. Why, I haven’t seen you since, um, since um…’

Instead of saying, “No, I have to go,” like a lamb to the slaughter, I meekly followed him down below street level into a nearby wine bar. The atmosphere was neat, clean, and the lighting dim. Although near Rundle Mall, I sensed a seedy darkness, as if downtown Hindley Street.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2022

Feature Photo: Sellicks Beach © L.M. Kling 2017

***

Continue to feast on this story over the Christmas season.

A treat for all my friends and followers.

Download for free (from December 23-27) from Kindle

Click here on Mission of the Unwilling (second edition).

On a Mission–Refined and Revamped MOU2

There’s this WP prompt here to list my top 5 grocery items. So, here’s mine: Sour dough bread, milk, super berry juice, crackers, and chocolate. No need to buy meat, we buy it bulk, and have it delivered straight from the farm. And vegetables we grow in our garden. Eggs come from a friend who has chooks.

Now, when I’m not shopping for bread and milk, I’ve been working on the second edition of my first novel, Mission of the Unwilling.

If you are tired of the mundane and are wanting space adventure, and the mischief and mayhem that alien cockroach Boris creates…

A Taste from Mission of the Unwilling (2nd Edition)

Avoiding Monica’s Playroom, (I thought Maggie might be lurking there), I headed for the Driver room. Would Günter zap back to a Grey and be piloting there? Or would just his apes be in the Driver room? I approached the junction where the right passage led to that room of monitors and Günter. I sensed someone sliding along the wall behind me and looked back.

A lump lodged in my throat. Not the Grey Nurse again!

‘Where is he?’ She tugged at my collar choking me. ‘You go to him—get him. I want him.’ Does she ever give up?

‘If you’re that desperate, find him yourself.’ I veered the other way, ducked around the next corner, and lost her.

I headed for the Engine room. I had to see John and talk to him about all my troubles. And warn him Boris might be back. What I liked about John was he didn’t talk much; he just sat there and listened.

I entered the maze of towering machines, pumps, and raw veins of bound wires. Anxious, at every sound of a swish behind me, I checked my back. Every wheeze, and I slammed myself up against the closest engine cowling, flattening myself for cover. I reached John’s small office and lurched through the entrance.

Hands gripped around my eyes. Darkness, even darker.

‘We must leave here,’ a deep voice said. ‘Now.’

‘Why?’

‘It is not safe; there has been an accident.’

‘Günter, is that you?’

He pushed me, guiding me. Something oily underfoot made me slip. He held me. Then carried me out.

In the light of the corridor, I blinked. Günter appeared pale. His forehead was covered in beads of perspiration. And as he held me, he trembled.

My shoe stuck to the floor. I lifted my foot. On the tiles, a bloodstained shoe print.

‘W-what’s going on?’ I asked.

‘I-it is J-John…’ Günter rasped. ‘I-didn’t want you…to see…’

‘John? Is he…no, not John…he can’t be…’ I moved to enter the engineering room.

‘No danger.’ Günter pulled me back. ‘He is…he is gone.’

Günter cradled me in his arms as we both wept.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2022

Feature Photo: Mission of the Unwilling cover © L.M. Kling 2022 (UFO © Liz Maxted)

***

Continue to feast on this story over the Christmas season.

A treat for all my friends and followers.

Download for free (from December 23-27) on Kindle

Click here on Mission of the Unwilling