It wasn't without problems. It was demanding and dangerous. Denver Stone and his team knew it, but did it anyway. Someone had to take the streets back from the drug runners, and his unsanctioned team of law enforcement officers stepped up. A story of action, intrigue, humor and romance. "Credible Justice."
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My head hurts! For that matter, so does, my eyes, ears, neck, right arm and worst of all, pride.
A few weeks ago, while on holiday in Funchal, with my better half Fiona, we decided to jump on one of those double decker tourist buses that frequent many cities these days.
Naturally, on a hot sunny day, the view from the top open-deck was very appealing, so we trudged our way up the step. I was leading the way, which was a mistake. As my head popped up at deck level, I could see that seats were at a premium. Noisy tourists from all nationalities were already in the process of taking snapshots of the fine harbor and adjacent buildings. I moved up a couple more steps and concentrated at looking at the back of the bus for an available seat. Then it happened!
Believing I was more athletic than I am, I threw myself upward onto the last step and straightened up quickly.
BANG! I hit my hairless head against a canopy that covered the stairway, and the front section of that deck. It was metal and I knew it, because I felt it.
My head stopped, just to allow the rest of my body to concertina into it.
For a second or too, I didn't know where I was; awakened only by the gasps of the nearby seated tourists who witnessed the event. If they didn't see it, they heard it.
It isn't good form to cry in front of a crowd, so I did what was expected in this situation. I pretended nothing had happened, smiled and headed down the aisle to the back seats. Inside, I was shouting and cursing with the usual expletives, and a few more I had just made up.
It was a nerve jangler. It hurt then, and I am still paying the price now.
I guess I am talking about this with you, because I haven't been as active on the writing or social media front lately, and as you know, I like to be up-front with whats going on.
You may remember that many years ago, I had spinal damage in a work related incident that required surgery. The reality of my injury now, is one that was waiting to happen, and I managed to speed up the process. It's all connected to that incident from my police days. The symptoms I had anyway have been compounded, and worst of all, its affecting the time I can spend tapping the keys. Because of the trapped nerves, one of the significant drawbacks, is that the fingers on my right hand 'Claw-up' after only a short time. It eases off after a while, but it gets tiring eventually.
However, the good news (I think!) is that I have just had two M.R.I scans in quick time and fingers crossed, I expect to have more surgery to ease the pressure on the spinal cord, and therefore allowing me to engage in more activity, including keyboard stuff.
In the meantime, I will keep my head down ;) plod on, and do what I can, when I can.
Once again, thank you for your help in purchasing my books. Charity will be the beneficiary of any profits from Credible Justice: Fighting Back.
For a chance to read excerpts from the books, please click on the link below.
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In 2009, Cumbria in the U.K, suffered severe floods. Police Constable Bill Barker, a colleague and friend; prevented people crossing a bridge, which he knew was unstable from the battering torrent, that was previously a calm river. His tour of duty ended forever when the bridge collapsed under him. His wife Hazel and others are regularly raising funds for charity in his name. I am thrilled to supply copies of my book, personally signed to winners at the event; the BILL BARKER MEMORIAL RIDE. Good luck to all. Photos below, show the details.
Never forgotten Bill.
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Danger and Humour! How does that work?
Englishman Den Stone, and His American buddy, Ty Cross, typically find themselves in dangerous situations. The one thing that can be guaranteed in times of stress, for these two characters, is that somewhere, somehow, there is a breakout of humour at the strangest of times. Of course, this is very much the case in real life, for law enforcement agencies. Below, is an excerpt from "Credible Justice: Fighting Back."
Read it and I think you can guess how these guys work together.
"... Cross crawled across the seat that Stone had vacated and exited the passenger side, racing to his friend’s aid while retrieving his weapon from his shoulder holster. Stone’s arms were extended, his left hand wrapped around the wrist that held the Glock pistol, pushing through the door frame of the target car, so close to Grainger’s head that a needle couldn’t find the gap. “Good evening, guys,” Stone said.
Grainger was sweating, confused and frightened. “What do you want?”
“You,” Stone said. He looked at Mason, “And him too.”
“You’re not American,” Mason said.
“I am,” offered Cross.
“What the *uck do you want from us?” Mason said.
“Well, to start with, you can both get out the vehicle and assume the position.”
Stone threw a quick smile to Cross, who shook his head. He stepped back from the vehicle, but maintained a shooting stance as Cross moved to the front of the Ford, keeping intense eye contact with Grainger, who opened the door and gingerly stepped onto the grassed area beneath him, guided out by Stone.
“Okay, assume the position,” Stone said.
“I don’t know what you mean?” He was shaking. “Everyone knows what that means, okay, put your hands in the air, move to the hood, and put them on the vehicle; after that, you spread your legs for me to search. Does that make sense?” Grainger obeyed.
“What you want?” Grainger protested.
“You have a short memory.”
“One example comes to mind; Anna in London, does that ring a bell?”
Grainger turned his head.
“Don’t think about looking at me. You are not worthy. Stay put while we get your mate out.”
Cross swopped places with Stone to oversee Masons exit. Within a minute both men were detained, under control and assuming the position.
“Are you okay with them, Den, if I move our vehicle?”
Stone nodded: “Yeah, I’ve got them in the assuming position.” Cross laughed as he walked to their vehicle.
Cross reversed the BM away from the crash site and parked it on the verge, slightly off the road. He had a quick examination of any damage caused to it, but it was of no consequence. By the time he returned to the prisoners, Stone had moved them, forcing them face down to the ground, with their hands locked behind their heads. He gave thumbs up to Cross, now in the Ford and thirty seconds later, it was reversed twenty yards into the wooded area and slumped into a dip, covering its view from the highway. He returned to the prisoners.
Mason moved both his hands and sprawled them on the grass in front of him.
“Uncomfortable?” Cross said. “Let me help you with your hands.” He kneeled on Mason’s lower back, making him wince.
“Put your hands behind your back!”
Mason obeyed the instructions without a murmur, His hands secured with flexi cuffs. Grainger received the same treatment. Stone relaxed and harnessed his weapon.
“I’ll get the clothing out of our vehicle for you two. It’s getting bit cooler and dark.”
He returned with two hoods and they fitted perfectly over the detainees’ heads. Stone and Cross moved out of hearing distance to discuss their next move.
“Well that’s part one sorted, Ty. Have you any suggestions what we can do with them?”
“Well, it’s about dark now, so we need to get them sorted. I guess Judy and Steve will want to join us as soon as possible.”
“Good, okay, I’ll check in with Maria and the other two.” He slapped Cross on the back. “That was great driving by the way.”
“I kinda enjoyed that myself. Den, just one question.”
“Have you ever asked anybody back home to assume the position?”
Grainger turned his head from side to side to ease the discomfort of having the hood over his head. He could breathe through it, but the material gathered around his mouth and nose, making life awkward. He had no use of his hands to adjust the hood into a better position and although he couldn’t see a thing through the hood, he could make out the fading light. His senses heightened, when he heard a grunting noise, followed by Mason speaking.
“What are you doing with me?” No response.
“I want to know what you guys are doing,” Mason repeated. He felt pain in the right side of his head.
Grainger heard shuffling noises and assumed it was Mason being dragged somewhere; he listened intently for any clue to what was going on around him. Instinctively, even with his vision blocked, he turned his head in the direction the sounds were coming from, and knew it was the wooded area. He shivered.
Bang! Grainger’s head lifted off the ground when he heard the shot. “Oh my God! Oh my God,” he wondered about Anna and how she was connected to his imminent death. He had regrets, regrets that the current circumstances brought to the surface. He regretted meeting Anna; he regretted getting involved with the drugs on the cruise ships and cursed his decision in coming back to the States. He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the shuffling of shoes in the grass. The noise was getting louder and louder as his heartbeat got faster and faster in time to the steps. The noise stopped, but his heart didn’t..."