Monthly Archives: September 2014

The wait is over – Toby Frost Tour Dates are here!

TobyEnd of Empires, the fifth exciting instalment of the cult Space Captain Smith series, is out now.

After a very successful launch at the Forbidden Planet store in London, Toby Frost will now be touring the Waterstones stores during September and October.

We kick off the tour with an evening talk and signing at Waterstones Ipswich on Saturday 20th September from 6:30pm. Nibbles and refreshments will also be provided.

Throughout October Toby will be signing on:

Saturday 4th October – Milton Keynes (Midsummer Place) 11am till 1pm

Saturday 11th October – St. Albans 11am till 1pm

Saturday 18th October – Hemel Hempstead 11am till 1pm

Saturday 25th October – Amersham 11am till 1pm

And to top it all off the ebook has now arrived – hurrah! To purchase your ebook copy please click the link here.

 

The Fat Boy with the Bomb and 299 of the World’s Craziest Politicians

 

Fat BoyBrian O’Connell and Norm Chung

This first attempt to catalogue the world’s craziest politicians contains 300 caricatures and profiles drawn from every corner of the globe and representing every shade of the political spectrum. The extent of their lunacy ranges from the endearingly eccentric to the pathologically insane. Here are the fanatics and revolutionaries; the xenophobes and homophobes; Islamists, Zionists and bible thumpers; the anarchists and fascists; extreme libertarians and unreconstructed Stalinists; populists, demagogues and hated despots; the idealistic and the corrupt. Here too are the heretics and non-conformists who have dared to be outspokenly different and whose biggest crime may simply be to have kicked at the traces of mainstream political conformity. Between them they’ve pronounced that wind turbines have motors in them to fool people they are working, that homosexuality inevitably destroys civilisations, that the world is little more than 4,000 years old, that the 9/11 attacks were perpetrated by George W. Bush, that virtuous women should refrain from laughter in public and that long hair saps energy from the brain.

They’ve executed their girlfriends, volunteered to be blasted by water cannon, tried to drive Darwin from the classroom, opposed cannabis legalisation while imbibing crystal meth to get them through the day, had themselves deified, been indicted for singing Nazi songs, pretended to be a cat, sobbed hysterically at press conferences and fed their opponents to packs of hungry dogs. Here they all are in their bizarre and colourful plumage in a highly irreverent volume that seems destined to provoke curiosity, controversy and debate.

 

Click here to read an extract from this book

 

Paperback 384 pages
B Format
ISBN 978-1-910183-09-0
Release Date 5th November 2014
Price £12.99

An extract from ‘End of Empires’

Prologue

Long ago, the great god Popacapinyo made the world. First, he made the wolf and the hawk, and he made them swift and deadly. Then, he formed the bear and the badger, who are strong but slow. And then he made the cunning snake and the ape, who lie in wait for the foolish and the weak.

Then Lord Popacapinyo turned his hand to the world, filled as it was with tricks and traps, and he made other animals, the ones that eat grass instead of meat. To all these creatures he gave a gift, so that they would evade capture and live to breed again. Some were quick, some strong, some crafty, but he saved the greatest gift of all for last: the Spirit of Sacrifice.

That gift he gave to the lemming.

And he took the lemmings in his hand and spoke:

‘You, and only you, will never know fear or cowardice. You will never stand alone, because you will all run together. You will have what all other races lack, and that will make you greatest of all. You have Lemming Spirit.

‘All the world will be your foe, Rodents of a Thousand Enemies. And when they catch you, they will kill you. So you must catch them first. Attack all the world, lemmings, and show them terror, for they are weak and afraid. Show them your lemming spirit, and then kill them all! 

‘Dar huphep, huphep Yullai! 

‘For glory, the glory of the Yull!’

* * *

At 08.30, Greenwich Galactic Mean Time, a staff car and troop lorry rumbled into the remains of the British Quarter. The lorry rolled between the shells of buildings, past the broken sheds and abandoned allotments, the Yullian flag fluttering from its radio antenna. Foliage covered the cab roof. Half a dozen severed heads hung on a chain across the front grille like beads on a necklace.

It stopped in Coronation Square. A huddle of beetle people waited; as the lorry drew to a halt they pushed their young to the rear of the crowd, out of sight.

Lemming men jumped down from the back of the lorry, their new rifles gleaming, and fanned out in a glittering circle of bayonets as Colonel Fremcar Nonc stepped out of the staff car. He looked from side to side, taking in the dilapidated buildings and the empty pole from which the Union Jack had once flown, and smiled.

Nonc was new to this region but rumours of his prowess had already spread. He was, by all accounts, paranoid, self-important, unbearably pompous and sadistic to the point of lunacy, which made him fairly typical for a soldier of the Divine Amiable Army of the lemming men of Yull.

A semicircle of cringing natives awaited their new master. One of the beetle people scurried forward to welcome Nonc.

‘All hail, noble Yullian warlord,’ it chirped. ‘We thank you for liberating us, and welcome –’

‘Silence, slave,’ said Colonel Nonc, casually bashing him over the carapace with his walking stick. ‘I do not bandy words with savages. Where is the human?’

‘The woman waits in the potting shed, honoured master. She is bound, as you requested –’

‘Enough! Conversing with you besmirches me. Lead the way to the prisoner.’

‘Please, gracious master, follow me.’

Nonc followed, scowling. Four of his toughest warriors accompanied him. The beetle led them around the side of the governor’s house, through the crater-ridden vegetable garden. The offworlders had left in a hurry, Nonc reflected: they had not even bothered to pick their sprouts. One good charge from the Yull and the cowardly humans had fled. Somewhere to the north they were still trying to fight, it seemed: the last death throes of their weakling empire. They had forgotten how to be rulers, how to act with wisdom and justice.

He belted the beetle with his stick. ‘Piss off now, barbarian!’

The five lemming men stomped into the governor’s potting shed. It was large and clean, lit with electric lights. In the middle of the room were two chairs, and on one of them sat a woman in British army uniform, her hands behind her back and a rope around her waist.

Nonc sat down opposite and pulled a table over. He reached into his sash and took out a pack of cigarettes.

‘Hello,’ the woman said.

Nonc frowned, wondering how to break the ice.

Shup!’ he screamed, and he slapped her across the face. ‘Ugly weakling flat-snout pig-monkey coward, your war of aggression is over and your verminous slave race must all die slow! Cigarette?’

‘I don’t smoke,’ she said.

‘Oh.’ Nonc had been looking forward to telling her that she couldn’t have one. ‘Now then,’ he began, cracking his knuckles, ‘you have nothing to fear from me, offworlder scum. So let us have a little chat, eh?’

One of his men pulled down the blinds.

‘I understand you were captured by the beetle-things yesterday, on the outskirts of the town. I also understand you are of the Deepspace Operations Group, fools who presume to fight our glorious, entirely lovable empire.

For you are she who wields the knife, consort of the ghost-warrior Wainscott – may a thousand demons chew out his wretched heart. You are his witch-woman, the banshee-warrior, she who is called… Susan.’

The woman said nothing. Nonc took a deep drag on his cigarette. Thoughtfully, he tapped the ash away and touched the glowing end to the tabletop. He turned it slowly, a smile creeping across his face as the formica began to scorch.

‘Offworlder, you will tell me where I can find this so-called Wainscott. The Greater Galactic Happiness and Friendship Collective is most troubled by his continuing resistance to our grand plan for the betterment of the galaxy and wishes only to benevolently torture him to death.’

‘I can do better than that,’ the woman said. ‘I’ll show you where he is.’

 

© Toby Frost 2014

P.S. Duffy makes the final in the international Dayton Literary Peace Prize

CarHuge congratulations so P.S. Duffy for reaching the final with her first novel, The Cartographer of No Man’s Land.

Celebrating the power of literature to promote peace, the Dayton Literary Peace Prize Foundation have announced the finalists for the 2014 Dayton Literary Peace Prize in fiction and nonfiction.

DaytonThe Dayton Literary Peace Prize honors writers whose work uses the power of literature to foster peace, social justice, and global understanding. Launched in 2006, it has already established itself as one of the world’s most prestigious literary honors, and is the only literary peace prize awarded in the United States. As an offshoot of the Dayton Peace Prize, the Dayton Literary Peace Prize awards a $10,000 cash prize each year to one fiction and one nonfiction author whose work advances peace as a solution to conflict, and leads readers to a better understanding of other cultures, peoples, religions, and political points of view. Additionally, the Richard C. Holbrooke Distinguished Achievement Award is bestowed upon a writer whose body of work reflects the Prize’s mission; previous honorees include Wendell Berry, Taylor Branch, Geraldine Brooks, Barbara Kingsolver, Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, Tim O’Brien, Studs Terkel, and Elie Wiesel.

For more information, and to see the list of finalists for both fiction and non-fiction, please click here.

Queen of Bedlam shortlist success for Laura Purcell

LauraLaura Purcell’s debut novel, Queen of Bedlam, has been shortlisted for the Best Historical Read at the Festival of Romantic Fiction

Shortlists were released today for the Romance Reader Awards, New Talent Award, and Romance Industry Awards. The winners will be announced at a gala awards ceremony at the Festival of Romantic Fiction on Saturday 13th September.

Awards organiser Sarah Taylor said: “With the highest number of entries the awards have had in their four year history, the standard this year was exceptionally high with many highly rated novels not making the shortlists. The breadth and depth of quality writing in romantic fiction should be celebrated and that’s what these awards are all about.”

For the full shortlist please visit the Chick Lit Uncovered website here.