Posts Tagged ‘humor’

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Laugh, smile, snigger, snicker, snort and giggle with Gerry Burke’s humorous short stories!

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Dogmatic:

Featuring Dusty Rhodes, the K9 Kid & the Doberman Who Didn’t Like Doughnuts

by Gerry Burke

Genre: Humorous Short Stories

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Every morning I take my constitutional along the beach path in the suburb where I live. The early risers are already there with their dogs, every conceivable breed.


All of the canines have a story to tell, so I thought I might like to speak out on their behalf. You will be surprised with the extent and nature of their adventures. In fact, these humorous dog tales are unbelievable.


We already laud our heroes in the form of Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, and Snoopy. I hope these captivating stories will now shine a light on the likes of Baloo, Atticus, and William, the Wet Nose Wonder. In the meantime, give your dog a bone.

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Citizen Vain:

Stories From Down Under and All Over

by Gerry Burke

Genre: Humorous Short Stories

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Stories from Down Under and all over! Humility is not a common virtue among the rich and famous. The protagonists in these narratives come from all parts of the globe, and have experienced the dizzy heights of fame and fortune. These are people who have let vanity overcome wisdom. Tall poppies need to be cut down to size, and plotting their downfall has been my pleasure.

The Bonfire of the Vanities was hot. These yarns are hotter.” Lucifer Beelzebub

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My Book of Revelations:

Stories that Burst the Bubble of Believability

by Gerry Burke

Genre: Humorous Short Stories

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History, heroes, horror, and Hollywood! Every story with a sting in the tail. Lady Godiva; The Charge of the Light Brigade; The Borgias; and Tales from the Old West: stories that never happened, but should have. Plus the heroes of today; crime-fighters, patriots, and protagonists of purpose. No wonder the villains never win. Of course, you can’t blame them for trying.

Laugh, smile, snigger, snicker, snort and giggle! The author’s revelations will be hard to believe, and harder to forget. There’s always a bubble to burst.

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A SMALL TOWN

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Dave Rhodes was the kind of husband who gave his wife a vacuum cleaner for her birthday. The kids didn’t do surprises and knew what they wanted. Gifts could be found scattered all over the house, including game devices, Barbie dolls, and enough anti-alien laser guns to repel Darth Vadar and a million Stormtroopers. After a pre-Christmas think-tank meeting, the three children decided they deserved a dog. Realising their father might want to resist the opportunity to expand the family in this way, the boys charged Chloe, five, with the job of bringing him around to their way of thinking. Another mouth to feed might stretch the budget, but the youngsters would be prepared to give up their portions of spinach and other green edibles if it would help.

It has to be said that Chloe was the Mata Hari of five-year-olds. Using all her feminine charms, she possessed the ability to turn her father into a compliant servant within minutes of locking her arms around his neck. With the commitment confirmed, the eldest son, Rory, stepped in to declare that he had prize-picked a potential candidate for the yet-to-be-purchased kennel. The father of his best mate at school, a grazier, owned a spread the envy of most folks in the area. The litter of pups would be there for the taking, and it would cost Dave nothing. Nevertheless, he did question the need for this breed.

“A sheepdog! I know we live on a farm, but we only have one sheep. Are you sure?”

Shawn may have been a single entity but he was no ordinary sheep. He possessed half a brain and a dynamic personality, and interacted well with the children. Mrs Rhodes, less keen, considered buying her husband a lawn mower for Christmas. In this way, they might get to enjoy roast lamb instead of the usual boring ham.

The family lived on a rural property, but don’t paint Dave as a farmer. The fellow sold farm machinery. His wife, Annie, supplemented their income with her various cottage industries, which included door sales of eggs (chicken and duck), fruit, and feather-down quilts.

Did she think the backyard would become more chaotic with ducks, chooks, a sheep, and now a dog? Yes, she did, but young Chloe could be persuasive.

The puppy arrived in a basket with a bow tied around his neck, with the sound of departing sleigh bells in the distance. Rory took charge and introduced the little fella to every member of the family. The young girl provided similar introductions to each of her dolls. Dusty licked them all and then retreated to the fireplace, where he discovered a large bone wrapped in Christmas tinsel. The children believed it would be best to initiate the tyke into the joys of the yuletide season, so he might enjoy it as much as they did.

Over the ensuing months, the pup kept close to his three protectors as he felt vulnerable outside, at the mercy of loud and inconsiderate farm animals. Protecting one’s patch is quite the thing with creatures, often wary of any new arrival. Of course, adventures could be encountered beyond the perimeter of the property, but all in good time.

The puppy didn’t have a lot to do with Mr and Mrs Rhodes, although he must have wondered why the woman continually followed him with a green plastic bag. This would all change when he became older and wiser. Two years down the track and Annie wouldn’t go to town without her faithful companion by her side. On these occasions, the dog would get to meet the townspeople, and they all loved him.

On her shopping excursions, the country housewife couldn’t take the pet into the supermarket, so she tied him up on the footpath. The shopkeeper next door didn’t like this much because he thought the dishlicker deterred customers, so he always untied the barking beast. The liberated animal then proceeded to freewheel down High Street on a voyage of discovery, which included the butcher shop, the bakery, and Fat Al’s burger joint.

In this way, new friends would be made, some of them possessing a welcoming nature and a generosity of spirit. Often, a slice of salami would come sailing out of the window of Mother Petrocelli’s Deli just as Dusty passed by. It is a credit to the woofer that he always arrived back at the supermarket in time to greet his mistress with her shopping. She never noticed (or cared) that her escort was no longer tied up.

As time went by, Annie didn’t bother with the pretence of tying him up, and he roamed free every Tuesday for one hour. During that time, the inquisitive dog performed many civic services, some above and beyond community expectations. For example, he always patrolled the school toilets, looking for those misfits keen to wag class. Who can forget the day the canine caught Sammy Stuyvesant and Delia Davidoff smoking? When the principal appeared on the scene, he discovered them doing more than that. Very embarrassing!

The day he saved Bernadette Brody’s baby proved to be another bookmark of bravado. Mum only let go of the pram for an instant, but it started to roll down Harlequin Hill, picking up speed with every wheel rotation. The two Rhodes scholars, Rory and Jake, saw what was happening from the schoolyard but expected Superman to intervene. Yes, they also believed in the Easter bunny.

On the back of “kiss and go,” man’s best friend prepared to join Annie in the family vehicle when he observed the pram careering down the road and went after it.

You may have heard the stories, some of them embellished. Dusty couldn’t run faster than a speeding bullet, but he did stretch out and caught up with the baby carriage before it smashed into the water faucet at the end of the road. The dog couldn’t stop the impetus of the four-wheeler, but he jumped aboard and sunk his teeth into the swaddling clothes around the baby’s neck. The fearless one broke free with the child with seconds to spare and then delivered the crying infant back to her mother. What a hero!

Annie couldn’t have been prouder of the sheepdog, but the explanation to her husband didn’t come out right.

“What are you talking about, sweetheart? Dusty delivered a baby?”

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The Four Paw Society existed because of the number of dog owners in town and out. They represented every political persuasion, so agreement on anything proved difficult. In matters of respect, no disagreement existed as to who was their star. However, the suggestion from Kimberly Carruthers came from left field.

“Ladies, gentlemen, fellow members, I would like to recommend that we endorse Dusty Rhodes as our candidate in the forthcoming council election.”

Nice one, Kimberly.

Mmmm, quite interesting. The incumbent in their ward, Bruce Pickles, was the mayor but on the nose for all kinds of reasons. Few people thought he would be able to retain his position, but could he be beaten by a dog?

Some years ago in Australia, the politician Bill Hayden declared that “a drover’s dog could lead the Labor Party to victory.” The Four Paw representative might admit to being more Liberal than Labor, but there’s a precedent, if you need one. At the Rhodes property, the working dog only droved one sheep, so he had time on his hands.

The vulnerability of Bruce Pickles needs to be explained. Three years earlier, the out-of-favour mayor presented as a shining light, elected in a landslide. At the time, nobody knew him to be a paedophile with a criminal record for fraud and aggravated assault. To avoid such issues, one often chooses to relocate, and this is what Bruce and his wife did. Yes, all hail the forgiving wife, every bit as gullible as he might have hoped.

The accountant’s job at Sullivan and Sons appealed, as did the sons, Dan and Tim, earmarked for managerial roles in about fifteen years. Sullivan’s, the best (and only) furniture store in town, was expensive, but nobody questioned the quality of their merchandise. The pencil pusher should have been concealed in the back office, but he harboured this desire to strut about the premises and bond with the customers. Rather than describe the fellow, let me quote from My Fair Lady.

“Oozing charm from every pore, he oiled his way around the floor.”

Some of these people he recognised from the Valley Church of Praise, where he held the position of honorary treasurer and lead vocalist. To them, Bruce wasn’t the sleaze that many people thought, and he did have a fine tenor voice. The parishioners were more than happy to support his push at politics and would only find out about his crimes after election day.

The death of Mrs Pickles came as a shock and must be described as a sad affair, with most people believing the husband to be responsible. Of course he was responsible. You should never point a gun at anybody, even if you only intended to clean it. What was this guy doing with a gun, you ask?

It would have been nice if the police asked the same question, but they didn’t. The station chief played golf with the suspect and declared him to be a rum fellow, so they exonerated him. The pastor at the Church of Praise also confirmed this characterisation when funds went missing from the weekly collection. The guy was having a dream run, but would the fickle finger of fate soon dial M for mayor? The odds were not in his favour.

You rarely meet people with delusions of grandeur in a small regional town because country folks have a way of cutting you down to size. Somehow, Bruce slipped through the cracks. I cite the general disharmony in chambers when he exchanged his chair for a throne. You can do that if you’re in the furniture business.

What about the junket to Japan to investigate the possibility of starting up a Wasabi plantation where the sewerage treatment plant used to be? Lucinda Quinlan, the token Greenie on the council, should have been the one to undertake this investigative journey.

You guessed it. Mayor Pickles intervened, upgraded the only ticket to first class, and frolicked among the apple blossoms, before eating his way around the various sushi trains in Kyoto and Tokyo. With little time allocated for due diligence, the sad truth emerged. Wasabi requires a warm, humid climate to thrive. Some people would describe the sewage location as all of that, but it was not appropriate for this part of Victoria. The disappointed traveller retreated to his favourite Onsen and sat in a bath until the flying kangaroo (Qantas) arrived to return him home.

He would also be in hot water when he arrived back in chambers to discover a revolt amongst his constituents after someone leaked details of his previous history. With elections on the horizon, the mayor became a liability to himself and his prospects. The question on everybody’s lips— “Who would oppose him?”

The most popular person in town was Basil Green, proprietor of the fashionable franchise “Murder by Chocolate.” Situated on top of Harlequin Hill, the shop of enchantment delighted many. If you survived the climb, a reward seemed appropriate, and Basil and his wife were never short of customers. Notwithstanding his popularity, Rosemary refused to allow her husband to be involved in politicking of any kind, as politics polarised the community and could mean a loss of trade.

When the election flyers for the nominee were distributed, no one questioned the picture of a dog, front and centre, because the candidate had been endorsed by the Four Paws Society. Most people remembered Mr Rhodes but forgot his name was Dave, not Dusty. Dave’s appearance at the polling booths didn’t lessen the confusion in any way.

So, it came to pass that Dusty was elected, but you don’t become top dog just because you defeated the former office-bearer. The reluctant politician became mayor because the other councillors couldn’t agree on a suitable person for the position; the popular pooch became the compromise candidate. On entering chambers, the animal made a beeline for the throne and refused to be moved. Could anyone want a more defining endorsement?

Looking back at his first hundred days, one could be impressed by some of the initiatives passed by these servants of the shire, not the least being their campaign to clean up the streets. “Prevent Peeing in Public,” a program directed at various loose bladder delinquents in the town, proved popular, and the councillors named and shamed the most blatant offenders, such as Mrs Coates’ goats and Georgia Klingner’s cats, who roamed around the streets as if they owned the place. Getting Dusty to pee by example would be another thing, putting Kimberly Carruthers and the Four Paw Society under pressure.

For council meetings scheduled outside of school hours, the mayor’s carers would be one of the siblings. Otherwise, Annie would be the lady with the lead. Being a wise head, she could contribute when difficult decisions were required to be made. One of these challenging resolutions involved a judgement as to whether the town would celebrate 14 February in the usual manner. The owner of the flower shop thought they should, and over at Sullivan and Sons, one man looked forward to the special day: the anniversary of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.

Bruce, the wife-killer, only possessed one gun, which he cleaned regularly. Would he like to line up all the councillors against the wall and shoot them? Not that he should hold them responsible for his recent defeat. Insanity is a disease that precludes rational thought, so anyone would be fair game in his quest for retribution. There would be one primary target about to experience the full force of his vengeance, but Dusty was fast asleep on his throne, unaware of his predecessor’s desire for satisfaction. It would be no consolation for the madman to learn that most people thought the current councillors were doing well.

“Give a dog a bone,” another council initiative, found favour with the community, and they responded. So much so that one of the staff declared:

“There aren’t this many bones in the graveyard.”

This is when the health people stepped forward and decided that all bone donations that came to the Town Hall should be checked for salmonella. The one sent over from Sullivan and Sons should have been checked for nitro-glycerine. The bloody thing exploded when tossed into the corner pile behind the statue of Sir Henry Parkes, the Father of Federation in Australia.

The Town Hall lost the statue, plus two windows, one wall, and three mock Grecian columns, all covered by insurance. With no one killed, you might say they dodged a bullet, but nerves were on edge. At a hastily-called meeting, a resolution was passed to hire two sniffer dogs from H.M. Customs. The mayor somehow indicated that he would prefer the recruits to be female.

The investigation at the furniture store came to nothing, although information came to light that their accountant started his working career as a chemical engineer, but he never worked in an abattoir or a cemetery. How would he know about bones?

Cringing in his back office, the creepy accountant stewed in his reflections of regret. How could he have stuffed up such a foolproof plan? What a waste of St. Valentine’s Day. Bring on the Ides of March.

You have to wonder about someone who can compare Julius Caesar standing tall in the Senate and Dusty the dog standing small in the Town Hall. The difference was that everyone was out to get Caesar; one man sought to murder the mayor. That man might prove to be just as brutal as Brutus.

In Roman times, the Ides of March didn’t have a daylight-saving component attached to it, so Mr Pickles waited for the moon to go down. He realised that any self-respecting, knife-wielding assassin, should sneak up on the target in the dead of night and be wearing Hush-Puppies. Approaching the Rhodes farm on foot, he sensed the chickens were restless. Shawn the sheep pranced about nervously, and the ducks headed for the pond. Then there was the recent addition to the menagerie, Patricia, the python, a young, inexperienced, but fun-loving reptile who liked to hang out on the porch posts. The intruder would be rapt to meet her. Or not!

In his kennel on the front verandah, the designated security operative opened one eye and twitched his nose. The sensitivity of a dog’s nose is thousands of times more powerful than a human’s, and Bruce’s body odour gave him away. Not that there seemed to be any urgency about the pooch’s call to action. Slowly, he found his four feet and rose to his most formidable height. The commotion came from around the corner of the return verandah, so he padded his way to the spot where he discovered the former lord mayor grappling with Patricia, the python.

To be quite frank, Dusty and Patricia didn’t get on. Before her arrival, he had been the go-to guy for food disposal and the play-time preference for Chloe and the kids. Admittedly, committee meetings kept him away from home more often, but one knows when a luminary loses his lustre. Is this the reason the dog went for the snake instead of the prowler?

Patricia had never felt pain before, and those dog bites hurt. The reptile forgot about her game with the stranger and focused her attention on the canine. She considered him the grumpiest member of the family, but he rarely resorted to violence. Perhaps if she gave him a hug, all would be well. In the end, the humans ended the fight, and the trespasser scarpered.

With all the house lights on, the family members turned up in their pyjamas and surveyed the scene. Rory discovered the shiv in the bushes, and Patricia received all the accolades (and some soothing balm for her wounds). The yard guard just retreated to his kennel, feeling unloved and unappreciated.

I know what you’re thinking. Bruce, back in the safety of his abode, would be planning something further for 9/11 or 7 December (Pearl Harbour). This is how his mind worked.

This is not how my mind works. The intervention of the surly sheepdog could be a precursor to reconciliation involving the two lord mayors. After all, Dusty saved the guy from the playful python, a serpent who didn’t know the difference between a cuddle and crushed vertebrae. The two political animals would meet again at the Harlequin Hill Hoedown, sponsored by the Valley Church of Praise.

The church was situated in the valley, at the bottom of the steep incline, just beyond the faucet with the pram wrapped around it. Halfway up the rise, the organisers erected a stage for the performers, with interest at an all-time high. The out-of-towners always book early because accommodation is limited. This year, several celebrated gospel singers entered the music competition, and Dolly Parton sent a message of support. In the “Thank God it’s Sunday” category, the terrific tenor would lead the church choir with their rendition of “Nativity in Nashville.” Dusty would be one of the judges, along with Keith Suburban and Emmylou Paris.

You can probably see the case for replacing retribution with bribery or intimidation, Pickles being capable of both. On top of that, the pastor of this church had Italian friends. Naturally, any financial corruption would have to be financed from the poor box, but the treasurer had access to the key.

The good news for Bruce was that the late Leonard Cohen would not be back with “Hallelujah,” and no Elvis representative would sing “Amazing Graceland.” While the choir practised for their tilt at the title, the kids in town readied themselves for their character-defining event—the billy cart charge down Harlequin Hill, sponsored by Basil Green’s chocolate shop. The first prize was a mouth-watering assortment of sweets that any red-blooded adolescent would die for, and might. If comparisons could be made, I would nominate the chariot race in Spartacus.

At the Rhodes farm, Rory and Jake tried to insert spikes into the wheels of their vehicle, but Dusty would have none of it. His persistent whining brought Dave into the shed, who insisted that the boys fight fair. Their father would never tell them this, but he was impressed by their competitive spirit.

Poor Dave! Every year, the Hoedown has-beens set themselves for another beating, and every year, he ran the gauntlet between Annie and her creations and the lads and their billy carts. Now, Chloe added to the confusion, having entered Patricia in the “Cuddly Creatures” competition. Her mother was doing decorative duck eggs and didn’t have time to attend to her normal responsibilities (e.g., meals, bed-making, washing, and ironing). Such is life.

These festivals inject much-needed dollars into the economy of a country town, and Dusty started it all by breaking the tape at the showgrounds to get the sheepdog trials underway. His relatives competed, which is why he couldn’t be a judge for those events. Needless to say, he hung around as a keen observer of the “Best in Show” parade. Mimi, the sniffer dog from H.M. Customs, looked well-groomed and a beauty among beasts. The horny hound was a bit of a beast himself.

It wasn’t necessary for security to patrol the main street, but the controlling canine liked to be sure all was going well. He would have been happy to see most shops doing brisk business, and the visitors lined up to meet him, having heard about the mongrel mayor. The dapper dandy didn’t disappoint. With limited time available, Annie had run up a green waistcoat for him to wear, with a fancy M embossed on the side of the jacket.

You couldn’t expect the little fella to run up and down the street all morning, so he picked a spot on the pavement outside Fat Al’s and curled up for a kip, which didn’t please the seagulls from Lake Disappointment, there for the French fries.

Lake Disappointment lapped languidly at the bottom of Harlequin Hill, near the Church of Praise, where baptisms used to take place at regular intervals. Sadly, the over-enthusiastic pastor drowned three babies during these ceremonies, and business was lost to the Roman Catholics, who maintained a depth limit on their baptismal font.

Over the school year, most of the youngsters in town attended the swimming academy on the lake, and this was fortuitous. Half the contestants in the billy cart race failed to handle Water Faucet Corner and plunged into the icy depths. All starters in the event were obliged to wear life vests.

The qualifying races continued throughout the afternoon, with a background noise of splashing and splintering as the choirmaster took his people through their last rehearsal in preparation for their evening performance. They sounded primed, pitch-perfect, and pleasing to the ear. The choirmaster exuded confidence, as did the vicar’s wife, having placed a lobster ($20) on the boys and girls to bring home the bacon. At eight to one, this might have been an excellent bet but foolish and inadvisable. The previous Sunday, her husband rebuked those in his congregation who would even consider gambling.

The Church of Praise choir, scheduled to be the penultimate act, assembled by the side of the stage, dressed colourfully in their yellow and red smocks. Megan Proudfoot was in the throes of completing her performance, playing the Harp of Erin with her feet. In the judge’s box, Dusty, with his head on Emmylou’s lap, moaned quietly. The lady’s magnified whisper defied the laws of unobtrusive discretion.

“Danny Boy must be turning over in his grave.”

Everyone’s a critic, aren’t they? Diverse opinions give everybody a chance, exemplified by the raucous applause for Megan from Declan Murphy, who emerged from the pub, the worse for wear. Most of the church folks arrived to root for Bruce, with the expectation that he would lead the choir to a magnificent victory. The paedophile would have every opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of the community. Many people thought “Nativity in Nashville” might win over these particular judges.

Those from other faiths were aware that the Church of Praise promoted a different interpretation of biblical history than conventional theology. The idea of the baby Jesus being born in Nashville received little support elsewhere; but, with a decent riff and a melodic chorus, hope springs eternal. The eight to one offered by the bookmakers was snapped up by those optimists with a sense of humour.

The optimists proved to be off the mark, although the COP choristers put on a brave show. New compositions are always up against it in competitions like this, whereas bastardisation seems to reign. “How Great Our Art,” performed by first nation rock artists, won the contest, with the band members commended for being inclusive and non-confrontational. “A Ride with Me” was also commended, and school bus driver Melanie McGregor didn’t seem offended by the false praise of Emmylou Paris.

“Very nice, Melanie, but don’t give up your day job.”

There would be no hard feelings between Bruce and Dusty. The animal’s outstretched paw was accepted, and the former mayor acknowledged condolences from Keith and Emmylou. In retrospect, Mr Suburban may not have been as country as hoped.

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Gerry Burke received a Jesuit-inspired education at Xavier College in Melbourne, Australia, where he still lives. Before commencing his long career in advertising, the author was employed by an international mining company, which included a three-year stint in New Guinea. He also dabbled in the horse-racing industry, as an owner and breeder, with some success. Being a former accountant and advertising creative, no one expected Gerry to become a published author, but he embraced this initiative to stave off dementia.

He has since penned six novels, seven volumes of short stories, and two offerings of commentary and opinion relating to politics, entertainment, sport and travel. The PEST pseudonym was subjected to a sea change with the introduction of popular discount detective Paddy Pest to booklovers everywhere.

Most people see the garrulous gumshoe from Down Under as a cross between James Bond and Maxwell Smart, and he has been the protagonist in a number of the author’s humour-laden publications. In recent times, there have been diversions into Science Fiction and absolute fiction, all of which have won enthusiastic acclaim.

Mr. Burke’s credentials have been well established, with twelve of his books featuring as a winner or finalist in a variety of international literary competitions. Three volumes have received multiple citations.

Gerry is single and lives with photographs of his best racehorses.

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Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for Dead Man’s Hex by Ani Gonzalez. In Dead Man’s Hex Paranormal investigator Claire Delacourt’s working vacation turns into a cruise ship to hell and it’s up to her and her trusty hellhound Chihuahua, Pookie, to save the ship…and the world.

This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours and the tour runs from 25 till 31 October. You can see the tour schedule here.

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Dead Man’s Hex (Drop Dead Witchy #2)
By Ani Gonzalez

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Dead Man's Hex book cover

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Genre: Humorous Urban Fantasy
Age category: Adult
Release Date: 27 October 2021

Synopsis

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It’s a cruise ship to Hell. Literally.

Sun, sand, and ghosts. Sounds like the perfect working vacation, no? The supernatural cruise would be a chance to get a tan, enjoy a variety of cold drinks with colorful umbrellas, and make some money leading ghost tours along the Mid-Atlantic coast…or so I thought. I didn’t count on a seasick hellhound Chihuahua, a stowaway ghost, and a crazy cult cramping my style. Now I’m fighting Octonomicron acolytes, trying to keep myself in one piece, and save humanity at the same time. Oh, and that tan? So not happening.

Links:
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First book in the series:

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Hex Marks The Spot book cover
Hex Marks the Spot (Drop Dead Witchy #1)
By Ani Gonzalez

“Going to Hell is easy. Going back home is a different story.”

Links:
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About Author Ani Gonzalez:

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Ani Gonzalez author picture

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I’m a USA Today bestselling author of paranormal romantic comedy and cozy mystery (whew, that’s a mouthful!) set in Banshee Creek, Virginia, The Most Haunted Town in the USA. My books feature feisty, irrepressible heroines dealing with a host of paranormal critters (ghosts, cryptids, pagan gods…the sky’s the limit) and mysteries. They find love and laughter (and sometimes corpses) along the way, and readers get to follow them every step of the way.

I love quirky towns with spooky stories, and, thanks to my books, I get to “live” in one year-around. In real life I live in a Virginia suburb (which is sadly lacking in ghosts) with my husband, three children, two cats, and one adorable dog.

Author links:
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Amazon

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Giveaway

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There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Dead Man’s Hex. These are the prizes you can win:
– a $25 Amazon gift card
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– a $10 Amazon gift card

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Funny And Ironic organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Marco Di Noiawill award a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter at the end of the tour. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour and more chances to win.

Funny and Ironic: Amazing, Happy and Feel Good Stories

by Marco Di Noia

Genre: Short Stories / Humor

Synopsis

Funny short stories, ironic stories, amazing stories, animal stories, incredible stories, unusual stories, comical stories, humorous stories. Happy and feel good stories to create funny conversation, humorous conversation, a great conversation starter.

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Exclusive Excerpt

The Stupid Monkey

Marco was skipping down the street with a song in his ears.

A fat monkey, who had black hair and a double chin (cheeky looking), came swinging from a nearby tree and threw a banana onto the footpath in Marco’s direction.

Someone yelled, “Marco get out the way!” but it was too late, Marco slipped over and broke his ankle.

The monkey laughed stupidly, Marco was fuming and wanted revenge.

The next day Marco shot the monkey with a slug gun.

The monkey packed his bags and moved back to the African jungle.

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Author Marco Di Noia

Hi, my name’s Marco! I live in Sydney, Australia. I began writing stories to relieve boredom. After I wrote a few stories, I realized that they made me laugh. I kept writing and my depression went away. I am happy with the way the stories make me laugh and I hope you enjoy them too.

CONNECT WITH AUTHOR MARCO

Funny And Ironic Stories / Instagram

PURCHASE LINKS : Amazon / BookshopB&N / Book Depository

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Vampire Joe
by Jimmie Christo
Genre: Humorous Urban Fantasy
Do you even know how much of a pain becoming a vampire is?
All Joe ever wanted was to shoot up some smack, sit in his apartment, listen to some Nick Cave and be left the hell alone.
Now he has to cope with his addictions, his dealer, a new girlfriend,, the mafia, the cops, his christian minister AND an unquenchable thirst for human blood.
How the hell does life get harder AFTER you die!?
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Review from the 28th Annual Writer’s Digest Self-Published Book Awards:
There was absolutely nothing conventional about this novel or its author. The author bio is unique – I’ve never encountered something so demeaning yet at the same time funny and strangely endearing. And as for the book? This is a very different take on the vampire theme as we encounter a no-good, drug-addicted lay-about gain immortality and bring other equally antisocial undesirables into the fold. You really want to despise the main character for his attitude, drug abuse, filthy language, squalid and nasty lifestyle and sexism – I wanted to hate him on sight, yet the author manages to draw you into his world and actually start pulling for him. I didn’t even want to read any more at one point as the excessive use of foul language and vulgarity seemed gratuitous. But then my eyes and ears have witnessed much worse, including Trainspotting, and that was a masterpiece. So the author is a skillful writer in the way he manages to drag you kicking and screaming into the story and start actually liking and sympathizing with some of the people. Jimmie Christo is a master at character development humanizing the most deplorably diabolically sick characters. I found myself happily reading right through to the end, tightly clutching my pearls as I eagerly flipped through the pages. The dialogue is well-written, vulgarities and all, the plot is face-paced, the cover is striking in its simplicity, and overall a good read – it’s one I definitely won’t forget!
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Born in Carlton in 1979, Jimmie Christo is an author of the lowest calibre.
A criminal since birth (he stole his mother’s heart), he grew in the care of the state until he was 18, whereby said state awarded him the Keys to the Universe (citation needed) after imparting no life skills.
He has literally been using the word literally literally, literally all his life (figuratively speaking) and is a pain in the arse most of the time.
He spent four years in jail for crimes he didn’t really commit to, namely trafficking (We believe the plan was to consume the whole volume in it’s entirety himself, although it was too large an amount for anyone not completely ravaged by addiction to comprehend as such), posession, weapons, burglary and being a not very nice person.
While incarcerated at Her Majesty’s Pleasure, determined to get more out of them than they took from him, he wrote a whole bunch of books and movies. Also, he may have changed his outlook on his existence. That said, he is not returning the Keys.
Vampire Joe is his first published work, read by eleven people to critical acclaim. Everyone else who read it said it was vile rubbish.
He has also written YA sci fi and children’s novels, understandably under a much nicer alter ego, keeping grown up stuff like Joe separate.
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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Welcome to The Friday 56 hosted by Freda’s Voice.

 

This is a really fun meme!

The only rules are to grab a book (any book), turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader and find a sentence or a few (no spoilers) that grabs you and post it.

Then go over to Freda’s Voice and leave your link so we can visit your 56!

My 56 for this week is from:

Breakfast At Cannibal Joe’s

  by Jay Spencer Green

26091959. sy475

 

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Genre: Humor / Mystery

From page 56 in the paperback.

… you know how hospitals have those signs at every junction and those color-coded lines inlaid into the floor that your meant to follow to your desired location? Well, the National Rehabilitation Hospital doesn’t have any of those. It would rather you wander around fruitlessly. I’m surprised there isn’t a sign outside that says “Get Lost.” Which is what I did. For 45 minutes.

~~~~~

Synopsis

You’re not assigned to oversee a CIA front company in Dublin unless you screwed up royally—and Joe Chambers did. If he didn’t know so much about so many people, the CIA would probably terminate him—possibly in both senses of the word. Instead, he’s stuck managing Whetstone Publishing while his stateside boss comes up with ever more daft ways to maximize profits.

But Joe’s frustration is only just beginning. An MI6 agent keeps breaking into his apartment and stealing his booze, presumably revenge for blowing the guy’s cover in Athens; his publishing assistant’s too smart for her own good; and with head office’s cost-cutting measures hitting new highs of lunacy, he might need to start selling drugs or—God forbid!—move back to the States. Oh, and he’s got a tapeworm named Steve happily curled up in his guts.

A raucous mix of double crosses, brothels, triple crosses, and cocktail recipes, Breakfast at Cannibal Joe’s is a dark and twisted tale that fans of Vonnegut, Heller, and Hunter S. Thompson should love.

Voted No. 6 in the Top 50 Indie Books of 2015. Winner of Lord of the Book Covers 2015.

Amazon

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

You can find a list of my reviews HERE.

For a list of free eBooks go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Spring At The Little Duck Pond Cafe organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

I have a fun excerpt to share with you.

And Rosie Green will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter!

And be sure to click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

 

Spring at The Little Duck Pond Cafe: (Little Duck Pond Cafe, Book 1) by [Green, Rosie]

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Synopsis

Fleeing from a romance gone wrong, Ellie Farmer arrives in the pretty village of Sunnybrook, hoping for a brand new start that most definitely does not include love!

Following an unscheduled soak in the village duck pond, she meets Sylvia, who runs the Little Duck Pond Cafe. Renting the flat above the cafe seems like the answer to Ellie’s prayers. It’s only for six months, which will give her time to sort out her life, far away from cheating boyfriend Richard.

But is running away from your past ever really the answer?

Clashing with the mysterious and brooding Zak Chamberlain, an author with a bad case of writer’s block, is definitely not what Ellie needs right now. And then there’s Sylvia, who’s clinging so hard to her past, she’s in danger of losing the quaint but run-down cafe altogether.

Can Ellie find the answers she desperately needs in Sunnybrook? And will she be able to help save Sylvia’s Little Duck Pond Cafe from closure?

 Enjoy this peek inside:

I have never climbed a tree in my life.

But I suppose there’s a first time for everything.

It’s a gaspingly cold mid-January morning with an ice-blue sky overhead – not exactly the ideal conditions in which to be lurking on the pavement outside a stranger’s house, nervously eyeing up the oak tree in their garden.

Camera gripped in my freezing hands, I stamp my feet and blow out misty breath as I psyche myself up to be bold. I’ve driven sixty miles from Newtown, where I live, to the pretty, chocolate-box village of Sunnybrook in Surrey – with the ultimate goal of climbing this very tree and taking photos of the view from up there.

The tree is almost exactly how I pictured it in my imagination – old and gnarled with broad, evenly-spaced branches. My eye homes in on one branch in particular. It reaches out to the left, a little over six feet from the ground; the perfect place to sit and gaze out over the village green and the duck pond. (As I knew it would be.)

Tears fill my eyes. But I’m smiling, too.

It’s all in a good cause.

Stop dithering and just do it!

When I push it open, the garden gate swings inwards without creaking and the windows remain blank. I drop my bag by the gate and head for the tree.

It’s amazing how fear can give you almost super-human powers. Under normal circumstances, I’d need someone to give me a bunk-up into this tree. But today, with adrenalin pumping through my system, I manage to swing myself up there with no problems at all . . .

About Author Rosie Green:

Rosie has been scribbling stories ever since she was little.

Back then, they were rip-roaring adventure tales with a young heroine in perilous danger of falling off a cliff or being tied up by ‘the baddies’.

Thankfully, Rosie has moved on somewhat, and now much prefers to write romantic comedies that melt your heart and make you smile, with really not much perilous danger at all – unless you count the heroine losing her heart in love.

Spring at the Little Duck Pond Café is the first in Rosie’s brand new series of novellas centred around life in a village café. Each novella is a ‘stand-alone’ read.

You can connect with Rosie Green on Twitter / Amazon

Purchase on Amazon

NOTE: Book is free at time of posting!

“Readers will be able to read the whole series on Kindle Unlimited”

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GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

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Cars, Coffee, and a Slightly Used Casket
Julia Karr Book 2
by K.C. Hilton
Genre: Humor, Satire
 
**Recipient of the 2018 Readers’ Favorite Finalist Award!**
Our favorite car dealer is back, kicking ass and taking names, and she’s
just as fabulous as ever.
Julia Karr is a used car lot owner and she isn’t expecting an invitation to
the popularity pool. Her business is drowning with past due accounts,
difficult customers and crazy repossessions. In order to get the
vacation of her dreams, Julia makes a deal with her husband.
After catching a burglar, tackling a customer, and looking down the barrel
of a gun, it’s clear to this feisty car dealer that her vacation may
be harder to achieve than she thought. Daily chaos drives Julia to
eat more chocolate, buy more wine, and prepare for the afterlife. She
could blame it on the contractor, the cheap casket, or a naked
friend, but she’d rather blame it on the car lot.
Author C.J. Anaya — Julia Karr is the Stephanie Plum of car dealers.
Can easily be read as a standalone!
 
 
Cars, Coffee, and a Badass Ninja Toilet
Julia Karr Book 1
 
If you deal with customers day after day who drive you insane, give you
reasons to drink alcohol, or make you want to quit your job, this
book is definitely for you.
A chaotic and hilarious portrait of a used car lot owner, Julia Karr.
Her feisty attitude and fearless approach to managing a business, how
it affects her home life and dealings with customers will have you
scratching your head about humanity.
Author C.J. Anaya — Julia Karr is the Stephanie Plum of car dealers.
Cars,  Coffee, and a Badass Ninja Toilet (Julia Karr Series) by K.C. Hilton
is a great addition to books with strong female lead characters who
work hard, love their family, deal with outrageous people on a daily
basis and try to live a normal life.
Can easily be read as a standalone!
 
K.C. is a wife, mother and manages the family business. K.C.’s husband
refers to her as Hobbit size and claims that she is “nuttier than a
fruit cake.”
She owns a complete set of pink tools, believes
in aliens and secretly wants to become a badass ninja. In her spare
time, she can be found daydreaming about leaving work early to eat
chocolate and drink wine. Sometimes her dreams come true.
 
 
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!
 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Welcome to Teaser Tuesday hosted by Ambrosia  @ The Purple Booker.

Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
• Grab your current read.
• Open to a random page.
•Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

 

My Teaser for this week is from

Celebrity Chef  Zombie Apocalypse

by Jack Strange

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Genre: Horror / Humor

  Teaser from 57% in the eBook.

The reflection looking back at him wasn’t his own reflection, it was the reflection of a cat – an ugly, ginger brute with stripes and an evil scowl on its half-mad face.

Before too long, Sydney Bartholomew, the notorious cat-hater of Notting Hill, was a cat-hater no more. He’d become a vicious sex-crazed ginger tomcat desperate for totty and food.

This scene was kind of gross but hilarious. He turns into a cat and takes on all of the characteristics of a horny zombie cat.

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Synopsis

Celebrity Chef Zombie Apocalypse tells the story of the dead celebrity chef Floyd Rampant, who rises from his grave aiming to create a zombie army of chefs who will rule the world, using the human species as the main ingredient in their cordon bleu meals.

CCZA, as it’s known for short, has a cast of unforgettable characters, most of whom meet with gruesome ends. The action begins in Croydon, moves to London, and reaches its explosive climax in the author’s home town of Huddersfield.

Part horror story, part political and social satire, it gives the reader a fast-paced entrée of dread, a main course of panic and a dessert of distress.

It is dark, original, and so funny it should carry a government health warning.

This smart, witty and profound modern day classic works on many levels.

Amazon

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How about you? Got a tease? Tell me!

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

 

 
I am so excited that BACON PIE by Candace Robinson & Gerardo Delgadillo is available now and that I get to share the news!
 
If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Authors Candace Robinson & Gerardo Delgadillo , be sure to check out all the details below.
 
This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $25 Amazon Gift Card courtesy of Candace Robinson & Gerardo
Delgadillo. and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.
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About The Book:
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Title: BACON PIE
Author: Candace Robinson & Gerardo Delgadillo
Pub. Date: April 13, 2018
Publisher: Evernight Teen
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 314
Find it: AmazonB&NiBooksGoodreads
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Lia Abbie has the easy life—kicking it back with old school video games,
hanging out with her best friend Barnabas, and alternating her living schedule between the apartments of her two dads and her mom.

Kiev Jimenez is a theater geek who loves him some Shakespeare and taking care
of his pet armadillo. He has one set goal in life: obtaining the role of
Horatio for the Hamlet school play.

When a showdown between Lia and Kiev lands them in the principal’s office,
they’re forced into volunteer work at the cringe-worthy Piggy Palooza Festival,
or risk being suspended. Lia and Kiev aren’t thrilled about the situation,
especially when it interferes with Lia’s relaxed life and Kiev’s theater role.
But by working together, they may find more than just bacon—possibly a little
love in the air.
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Enjoy this glimpse inside:
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The door is already wide open. Mr. Walker is missing in action, but two guys are already
there—Tweedle Jerk and Tweedle Jerkier.
I’m not dealing with this crap today. I march up to Cole, who is sitting in my seat again, and watch as Kiev’s eyes seem to follow me all the way until I’m standing in between both of them.
“You need to get out of my seat,” I say to Cole. Does he have his usual basketball shirt on today? He does.
He holds up both hands like he’s trying to tame a wild boar. “Calm down. Calm down, Miss Ophelia Abbie. The bell has not announced the start of this oh-so-wonderful
class.”
I give him a look of disdain. “Enough with the Ophelia stuff.”
“What’s wrong with the name Ophelia?” Kiev pipes in. “It’s like the name from Hamlet.”
“What?” I turn to Kiev, not sure what this idiot is talking about.
“You know, O-phe-li-a.” He draws the name out super slowly to get his point across.
“I don’t give a crap about Hamlet—that has nothing to do with my name,” I huff.
Tapping his fingers on the desk like he’s typing on a keyboard, Kiev stares at my face. “Are you sure your parents didn’t name you after the character?”
“Who the hell names their kid after a stupid Shakespearian play?” I’ve read two, and I hated them both.
“Plenty of people. Juliet Weaver, in our grade, was named after Romeo and Juliet.”
“Quit being pretentious.”
“Quit being a—”
I narrow my eyes at him. “A what?”
“You know what you’re being.”
“Shut up, Kiev. Oh, my parents named me after the capital of Russia, because I’m such an important person who has to answer questions for people when they don’t need help answering!” I yell.
“Um, Kiev is actually the capital of Ukraine.” He bobs his head. “You know that, right?” I hear Cole’s loud hooting to my right.
That’s it! Without thinking, I slam my fist directly into Kiev’s nose.
.
About Candace:

 

My name is Candace Robinson. I’m just your average hemiplegic migraine sufferer. My days are spent writing, book reviewing and traveling through books for my blog, Literary Dust.
I live just outside of Houston, Texas, where it feels like the hottest place on Earth with the crazy weather. No, seriously, one day it’s 30 degrees and the next it’s 70 degrees! I live with my husband and awesome daughter!
You can also
follow me on my review blog Literary
Dust
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About Gerardo:

 

 
Gerardo’s amazing bio.
Yup. Even though I’m like one-hundred-and-fifty-nine years old, spelled all out, I love to write about contemporary teens in distress. So no magic, dragons, or unicorns.
About me
At the tender age of sixteen years old, when giant lizards ruled the world, I used to be a DJ–turntables and all. I was born in the States, raised in Mexico, and now live in Big D. Cloud computing is my area of expertise–just don’t ask me what cloud computing means. I love football, the one played with the feet by footballers, La Liga from Spain being the best. Chilaquiles is my favorite food. Yummy.
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About my novels
Multi-cultural is my writing trade, in English and Español. My writing must be emotional or else …
I believe in the Oxford comma, but the Oxford comma doesn’t believe in me.  Love first person present tense POV.
In my novels, food tends to be another protagonist.
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giveaway photo: Giveaway Banner for 42nd giveaway.png
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Giveaway Details: All International
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1 winner will receive an Amazon Gift Card, International.
Ends on April 24th at Midnight EST!
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a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Welcome to Teaser Tuesday hosted by Ambrosia  @ The Purple Booker.

Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
• Grab your current read.
• Open to a random page.
•Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

 

My Teaser for this week is from

 Murder And Other Unnatural Disasters

by Lida Sideris

26838452

c8df8-add2bto2bgoodreads2bblack

Genre: Mystery / Humor

My Teaser from page 122 in the paperback.

“The way I see it,” Michael said. “We have a few options.”

“Such as?”

“Continue listening – ”

“Which means do nothing.”

“Doctor a search warrant and get inside – ”

“Which means our possible arrest and incarceration.”

“Come back tomorrow with ammo.”

“I like that.”

“I thought you would.”

~~~~~

Synopsis

Watch out Southern California! There’s a new entertainment attorney in town and she’s got game. Only problem is, it’s not the one she should be playing. Corrie Locke belongs behind a desk, not behind a Glock. She should be taking VIP calls, not nosing around a questionable suicide. Instead, she’s hot on the trail of a murderer. Luckily, she’s the daughter of a late, great private eye and she’s inherited his love of sleuthing…and illegal weaponry. It doesn’t help matters that her gene for caution is a recessive one. Corrie finds herself in the center of a murder case, unearthing suspects in shocking places. With a cold-blooded killer on the loose, Corrie will have to up her game, or die trying.

Amazon

~~~~~

How about you? Got a tease? Tell me!

stick out tongue photo: rr-sticking-out-tongue roadrunner-stick-out-tongue.gif

 

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

horseshoe photo: Horseshoe horseshoe.jpg