Category Archives: short story

New book listings … Bold Curves, Sector Bomb and A Thief at the Gala

Haven’t been at it for a while on the writing front, but I’m back again with a few updates, so … here we go:

Bold Curves (link) re-published with new content at the humble price of $1 (minimum).
Synopsis: Aaran has a problem with her other self, and overcoming this individual somehow results in her becoming entrusted with the lives of many who cannot otherwise protect themselves. In a post-apocalyptic world survived by a handful of cities and off-planet colonies, Aaran is beset by constant threats against her and her closest allies. She will not be put down, however … 

A Thief at the Gala (buyambienmed.com with Ditzy Do?” target=”_blank”>link) no change, now listed here. (Free.)
Synopsis: A mysterious crown claiming scrolls, a monster with a taste for ponies! How will Doctor Whooves and Forelock Holmes unearth the truth behind the threat? What is Vallade’s real target and why is he so fascinated with Ditzy Do? 

Every One Fight (link), updated to premium status on Smashwords. (Free.)
Synopsis: Masurani was set to run professionally when her father dies in a terrorist attack. Between puberty and grief she pursues the martial arts only to refuse a invitation to join the government backed KnightsMage. Entrapped by a devious street fighter and forced to turn professional, Petulant promises to reveal the nature of her father’s death, but can she survive this match and learn the truth?

Sector Bomb (link), no change, now listed here. (Free.)
Synopsis: Was it a bomb or magic? Sector 9 is levelled, hundreds dead, thousands injured and in dire need. While the Alliance of Courts decides how best to curtail costs, Representative Castlegar of Whitegraft charges ex-cop Aaran Coates and android associate Buddy Namiki to prevent another attack.

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Enjoy!

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Remarkable Objects – An Aaran Coates Mystery

This is the result – after some necessary editing – of the challenge I began alongside NaNoWriMo in November. My first police drama. Enjoy!

Remarkable Objects
By Simon Woodington

Face first on the pavement, no sign of trauma, foul play or … anything that a keen eye or diagnostic hand could detect. Detective Inspector Penny Broken frowned and unfolded her arms with the synthetic crinkle of weather resistant jacket, gesturing at the nape of the neck, the back of his thick legs, vaguely suggesting the ‘usual’ vulnerabilities. She prefaced lightly: “He was no vagabond. Ordinary as they come; clothes covered in ash from a day at Westbarrow. Ulysses Joinfellow, unmarried, age thirty-six. A loner by the looks of his complexion and social profile. We’re running the ID. He had twenty credits on him, unmarked.” Continue reading

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A dim idea of safety …

A sample of Ahead on Machined Shoulders available now at Wattpad:

[May is the wife of Remy Therison, Aaran. At least in a full prosthetic she can protect herself. Convincing her to keep a bodyguard is not an enviable task. One I’ve been charged with by Garen many times.]
[Not to be insensitive about her whole body being turned into stock-and-shelf parts,] I retorted.
[She’s always had a dim idea of safety. She didn’t deserve it. Alright?]
Kitrid, as a retired ‘intelligence’ agent had an excellent understanding of the pieces missing from his stepsister’s life. [You get a pass this time. So in the end Garen strattera no prescription decided to keep tabs on her?]
[Not indiscreetly. She’s worth killing for. How many people rally around you? You’re worth killing for. Private security is the path to mass disruption.]
[Now what am I supposed to say to that?]
[‘Thank you’ would do. Or ‘that’s very flattering’. Why’d you call me?]
[‘Mass disruption’? Scratch it. You can explain that later.] Blast it, Kitrid … I thought. [You’re doin’ a great job keepin’ me on the defensive. Garen and I are going to rescue her son from the BSO and then she needs a safehouse.]

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Resolute Gait, Wispy Child Excerpt

Eight cruisers had somehow veered into a Hauler robot dragging twelve long tons of raw NA-16 through the middle of Angel City North and right across my doorstep. The first smacked into the Hauler, and from my ground level office I heard the groan and wail. Haulers sometimes develop personalities, and even a few like to adopt emotive traits.

Plasteel doesn’t burn, especially the kind they use in civilian cruisers, which aren’t terribly fragile anyway. That was the problem, in this case. It was better to think of that than the head of the girl clean cut at the neck. Tears would come later, because I couldn’t do anything about the scrand driver probably half-asleep in his seat when they all compressed his cruiser into mash. Maybe CDI Milne would slip me a look at the coroner’s report.

Danvers Avenue sounds middle of the road, and it is that, home to a few gangs, middle-of-the-road businessfelors and average citizens. It is also next door to Whitegraft Police Department, my ex-haunting ground. Bethany Hospital was ten minutes away, but emergency services were twenty, and even though they were fast, I still was angry when they did arrive.

I tucked it aside, knowing some of the crew personally. Masurani lives not far, and being off shift and within earshot, lent a hand. We didn’t say much, but when we were done, Jain Dowery thanked us for the assist and not taking any ‘stupid tramadol.html risks’. A few inexperienced KnightsMage were hurt last year, and that put the pressure on me to get the kids in line.

Eleven victims: Four dead, six wounded and one unaccounted for, Jain told me by way of Scramble Relay. I thanked her and her crew. Masurani was hungry, so we stopped by Morse Cafe for a drink and some food. I ordered a twist-bread sandwich with the house dressing and assorted sliced protein. Masurani seemed more interested in the quarter-pound burgers.

“They’re fast here,” she said, drying her hands while I washed mine. “Better grab a table …”

“Away from the window.” Thumbing a curious self-conscious looking journalist who didn’t quite manage to notice us. Maybe he did, though, and maybe my glare told him ‘later.’

She nodded understanding. “Picked up enough hardware for today. Blasted Hauler. Who sent it through here?”

Representative Castlegar would be cutting air rations offside, but it wasn’t our problem. Masurani pulled a black clip out of her pant pocket and pinned her hair with it, off to one side. I said, “Local relay should have blocked off the roads. There’ll be an investigation.”

She lanced me with a harsh glare. “You saying the Hauler didn’t know?”

“You know how fast a Hauler isn’t?”

She scoffed. “It’s blasted waste. No self respecting Hauler gets into a mess like that on its own.”

Read the rest at Wattpad.

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