|A Loaf, a Pint and a Coffin
the book for free.
many people prefer a physical book. You can buy the book from:
|The stories are categorised as
Fiction - set in Ireland
- The English Teacher
- I'm Sorry, Christmas Tree (winner of the 2009
Leitrim Guardian Literary Award)
- A Loaf, a Pint and a Coffin
- A Mayo Man in Belfast
- How're Your Bullocks?
Fiction - set in New York
- You Guys Call it Football
- Long Boots and a Short Skirt
- The Diminishing Promise
- An Army of a Thousand Kings
I recently completed a short story, "The Ball". Read it, tell me what you think.
My science fiction-fantasy novel, Flight of the
years spent roaming the galaxy, Arnelius returns home to Earda. He is
surprised to find his old adversary, Destlar, sitting upon the throne.
His hopes that the powerful magician might have gained wisdom with age,
that he might have learned to suppress his sadistic impulses, are
quenched by the destruction of an ancient city and its people.
Disappointment turns to horror when Arnelius realises the galaxy and
beyond will soon be subjected to the Emperor's madness. He decides to
act. However, conventional attacks prove worse than useless against the
Centuries pass, Earda's temperatures drop, ice encroaches from
the poles. Will death finally claim the Eternal Emperor? Is Arnelius
willing to sacrifice an entire planet, in order to save countless more?
Is there no other way?
Then a new world is discovered. A space craft is secretly dispatched.
Aboard is Jeseque, a lonely and unhappy woman. Jeseque is ready to betray her
crewmates rather than allow the Emperor to expand his hegemony.
But unexpectedly she falls in love with Ferist, her fellow enginner and willing accomplice.
Will their treachery be discovered? Will the ship provide an escape route for the Emperor, or is it a trap?
beginning of Flight
of the Eternal Emperor.
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novel set partly in Ireland and partly in New York.
has recently returned to Leitrim to look after his ageing grandfather. He’s not
asking for much in life. A few pints on a Sunday afternoon. A bit of peace to
watch the soccer. To be able to make a pot of tea without the old man
complaining about the way he’s boiling the water. He’d like his wife back. And
his dead mother to leave him alone and quit sitting on the end of the bed in
the small hours of the morning.
She’d died years earlier under
mysterious circumstances, something Martin didn’t like to dwell on, though he’d
sometimes hear the neighbours whisper about the old man. “Sure it wouldn’t be
the first time he done someone in.”
Now all of a sudden she’s back. Back in the
place where she was never made feel welcome. Turning on lights and opening
doors and scattering sods of turf across the kitchen floor. Martin feels like
running. Back to New York and the bartending where things might be crazy but at
least they make sense. Away from silent wives, cantankerous grandfathers and
mothers who don’t know how to stay dead. He finds himself in doubt, no longer
so sure of his atheism, returning to the church he spent so much time in as a
boy, even having a mass said in the house.
But the mass doesn't help. She
stubbornly remains in place. Martin needs a break. He visits his brother in New
York and considers staying. When he returns, he takes to staying late in the
pub, neglecting the old man until it’s almost too late. Finally he realises
what it is his mother wants, and out of that realisation comes the truth, about
what really happened between her and his grandfather.
Read the beginning of One-O-Seven.
Like to read more? Please let me know: facebook.com/jamesrogerswriter