Dane Land - Nick's world of writing

Dane Land - Nick's world of writing

UNABLE TO CONFORM

From age four they targeted me and bullied me

so I would cry, be the underdog, end up the loser,

beat me up. Now aged 35 I’m learning how to fight back,

technique to my punches. Turn my brute force

into something with substance.

Anyone calls me a name, pushes me, insults my family –

rabbit punch to the throat!

Say I’ll only ever end up with a fat bird –

uppercut to the jaw line!

Stare me out with a silly glare –

right hook to the temple!

Spit in my face – reverse punch to the kidneys!

I was unable to conform aged 4-35.

Try it on now punk – be my target zone!

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Three by Jimmy Boom Semte - Nick's world of writing

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Three by Jimmy Boom Semte - Nick's world of writing

ISLAND

This small island sits just offshore in warm shallow water.

Formed by age-old coral which is as old as time, a small oasis.

Many types of life flourish here from bright birds of paradise

to long deadly sea snakes. On this timeless place nature rules

her own little world where man never ventures

for a sea mist always hides this small place,

never seen twice, an optical illusion.

The Complete Nick Armbrister Poetry Collection Volume 1 1996 - 2013 ebook out now - Nick's world of writing

The Complete Nick Armbrister Poetry Collection Volume 1 1996 - 2013 ebook out now - Nick's world of writing

The Complete Nick Armbrister Poetry Collection Volume 1 1996 - 2013 ebook out now

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister/the-complete-nick-armbrister-poetry-collection-volume-1-1996-2013/ebook/product-22099698.html

NOTHING STAYS THE SAME FOREVER

Everyone is used to a set routine in life,

same old car or boring job day in day out.

Sometimes it has to change for better or worse.

People say change is better than none at all,

to be stuck in the same job can be a killer.

You yearn for something different but it never comes.

You have to take control of your own life

as you are your own boss.

It’s the only way forward and the only changes

made should be done by yourself.

Juniper’s Daughter: Frontier Town by Nick Armbrister

Juniper’s Daughter: Frontier Town by Nick Armbrister

Copyright 2012 Nick Armbrister

ISBN -978-1-4716-5982-9

Thanks and Acknowledgments

A big thanks to Diane, the pagan gothic witch who inspired the title of chaper1 of this book. A big thanks to my pagan Goddess of Mother Nature for letting me have the skills to do my books and see it through, this book is for you! And thanks to my friends and family for their support, you know who you are. Thanks to my enemies and to the girls who broke my heart and ruined my life, your actions made me angry, this anger flows onto these pages. Out of my darkness comes something even darker but a positive.

Forward

   This novel is set at a date shortly after my previous novel Juniper’s Daughter, how long you ask? Not a year and not a ten thousand, I’ll leave it up to the reader to date when. Some events link it directly to the 1^st book namely the witch Juniper’s Daughter and several chapter titles are linked to the earlier work with a link to the past, Juniper’s Daughter. Many new characters, story lines, information and other new events are featured in this book; who knows I may even do a book3 Juniper’s Daughter, a 2^nd follow up. I’m beginning to like her character and I do relate to her in the real world and not just on paper, as a work of fiction.

   I really love the dark background of a world torn apart by war, conflict and suffering, how the people try to survive either living or dying. How clear-cut in perfect black and white! What else in life is like that? After my disappointing years of 2008-?, I will put a lot of my own personal darkness in these pages so you can experience it through the characters. My own events like the break up of my family, being laid off my dangerous job and having to move away from my home in the south of England, up to my old home in the north of England, helped shaped my views and attitudes. I have put my own darkness and despair into my new book, created a positive out of a negative.

   Juniper’s Daughter – Frontier Town is set in a town on the edge where life means nothing and death is a constant companion in day to day life, in the night and in the dark recesses of the traumatised human mind. Maybe the dead were the lucky ones; maybe the ones who prayed for a final nuclear holocaust weren’t so crazy after all…

Nuclear Bombs Not Very Nice (The Power Of The Witch)

   Blackness covered the land as a freezing night descended like the gloved hand of a strangler choking her victim. Baron landscapes arced out in every direction for what seemed like forever, something shimmered under the snow-laden clouds while snow slowly fell carrying radioactive isotopes. Invisible death fell again on this wasteland in an endless cycle of evil, darkness receding one degree to grey as the poison snow took hold in a Devil’s grip. Radiation clouds full of charged particles became visible under freak metrological conditions, where the edge of the snowstorm indicated the beginning of the cold front radiation in the air glowed, shimmered. A haunting pulsating blue light of ether brought to life by nuclear explosions, of what was carried out before, the cargo of hundreds of nuclear weapons.

   Material destruction was physical, destroying hundreds of towns and cities. Glowing charged particles were mystical in appearance, spiritual in their meaning – to view them from a distance was to be mesmerised by their beauty. You had a chance to flee and save your wretched life, to be amongst them was to witness pure lethal beauty before you died a hideous death from radiation poisoning. Slowly the lights from the charged particles faded out as the cold front advanced driven by a cold northerly wind, grey contaminated snow covering everything in a hideous of death. Underneath the snow lay the remains of what was once a town, Oldham had been its name, now forgotten and lost like so many others destroyed in one war or another that had engulfed the United Kingdom. This was after Wales and Scotland had gained their much cherished and fought after independence from England in a bitter civil war, for a few short years they were free until a nuclear war with France destroyed almost everything.

   One hundred and thirty five thousand buildings of various sizes from bedsits on old council estates to heavy concrete structures like the old art gallery were obliterated near the centre of the nuclear explosion that wiped out Oldham. Further out in circular rings the damage went from severe to minor, this last bit was a distance of eight miles encompassing the whole town. When the twenty-kiloton suitcase bomb exploded almost in the centre of town nothing remained, over two thousand people were killed and many more injured. With no medical help most of them perished unless they were walking wounded, for those trapped under buildings or with broken limbs it was a slow agonising death from injuries and radiation. This weapon was a small device in a suitcase, man portable in a metal box, similar in size to the crude weapons that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Tactical weapons designed to stop armies of tanks and men or attack targets like an airbase or other important smallish target; yes they worked on towns too. For bigger towns and cities a bigger device was desired in the tens or hundreds of kilotons range, even a one megaton device would be perfect but like a sledgehammer cracking a nut. Big bombs were hydrogen bombs using a small nuclear device to explode them after bring the main device up to critical mass, a nuclear trigger. Cities like Leeds and London had been hit by similar weapons; the single one-megaton missile aimed at Leeds had wiped everything out and killed or wounded over one million people. The entire population was annihilated.

   In France not a single town or city remained standing, in revenge for firing several hundred nuclear missiles at England, Wales and Scotland. The tri manned Trident nuclear missile carrying submarines launched almost every weapon at the French. Many French towns and cities were hit by up to three or more weapons, Paris were hit by seven 475 kiloton nuclear warheads. Not even London was hit so badly, it received just a single bomb like Leeds. Due to the size the city the outskirts survived but huge areas were radioactive with fallout. The only people alive in France were country people, not living in the built up areas and radiation covered most of the rural areas so many people left alive were slowly dying from the contamination. It wasn’t a functioning country, it was a destroyed country twice as badly hit as the landmass of Great Britain, a nuclear nightmare that killed and had polluted the oceans and land of many other countries bordering GB and France.

   France had used submarine launched medium range missiles from her four nuclear missiles submarines, only two firing due to the others being sunk by the Royal Navy. French Air Force Mirage 2000N and Rafale nuclear strike fighters carrying Aerospatiale nuclear tipped cruise missiles had hit some cities; Leeds and London were perfect examples of a big bomb on a medium/large size city. The submarine launched missiles each carried six 150-kiloton nuclear warheads with a total of sixteen missiles fired from two French nuclear missile subs giving a total of 192 separate warheads. Each the same size of 150-kilotons. Combined with the big one megaton bombs on the Aerospatiale cruise missiles from the fighters, this was a huge amount of nuclear fire power delivered against cities, towns, harbours, oil refineries, military barracks, bases, ports/harbours, air bases, aircraft factories and dozens more targets in England, Scotland and Wales. The newly independent countries weren’t spared due to alleged sympathies with England. Not a single French sub launched nuclear missile was intercepted and shot down; indeed no defences were in place to shoot down any incoming missile. Out of 32 missiles launched from the two submarines that survived to launch, two failed, one whose solid fuel rocket engine failed to ignite before it fell back into the ocean and the other didn’t achieve the right trajectory, heading off the Atlantic where it splashed down with its warheads still inside the missile. In total 180 French submarines launched warheads hit England, Scotland and Wales; not a single warhead failed due to the superb reliability of the design. Both missiles submarines were hunted down and sunk by the remaining ships of the Royal Navy after firing their weapons. In turn some of the RN ships were sunk by aircraft and missiles from the two French aircraft carriers; these being engaged by the two carriers of the Royal Navy in a bitter no holds air to sea battle. All four aircraft carriers were sunk along with three quarters of the supporting destroyers and submarines; nothing survived this mini Armageddon in the North Sea, Channel, Atlantic and Mediterranean by the powerful navies of England and France. Of the French air launched cruise missiles several were shot down by RAF Typhoon fighters after launch, not an easy job considering the missiles was a small fast stealthy target that flew at low altitude. Many French Mirage and Rafale nuclear strike fighters were shot down before launch, picked up by RAF AWACS radar planes as they took off from their bases and headed low to try and hide under the radar. Fifteen one-megaton Aerospatiale cruise missiles hit towns, cities and other targets killing millions of people, one was targeted at Oldham and the aeroplane factory there but the strike fighter carrying the missile was shot down before it could launch, saving the town. No French airbases or aircraft carriers remained for any surviving Mirage 2000N or Rafale to return to, the crews flew until they ran out of fuel and crashed, ejected or landed in other countries to have their fighter planes impounded and pilots interned.

   The Royal Navy, England’s senior service, defended England and also Wales and Scotland. With superior submarines and better missiles and more aggressive tactics, each submarine launched its Trident D5 nuclear missiles at France hitting towns, cities, airbases, factories and everything else that made France a 21^st Century nation. A total of 64 missiles were launched at targets in France, one missiles failed to ignite its seconds stage and it fell back into the ocean along with its eight warheads, the remaining missiles each carried eight four hundred and seventy five kiloton nuclear warheads – a total of 504. Every one of these detonated at a French target totally wiping France off the map, seven bombs in revenge hit Paris for the single hit on London. After the war? People left alive suffered slow deaths from radiation or blast injuries; just a few small towns remained in France with shell-shocked inhabitants.

   In the landmass of Great Britain roughly half of the large towns and cities had been hit and destroyed with casualties of up to one hundred percent, London suffered greatly and much of the outskirts were untouched but suffered bad fallout. Three quarters of military bases were hit, the civil war hit the British Army badly with units in Wales and Scotland belonging to the new nations, so the already depleted English army was down to just twenty thousand men, a few heavy vehicles and helicopters and the few RN missiles and warheads that weren’t on the lost subs now passing to the army, after the nuclear exchange. The Royal Air Force was wiped out losing every single airbase; the dozen fighter planes that survived the air battles intact either force landed on open roads and motorways or flew to Germany or Spain. There they remained with the crews being interned like the French planes that survived this hideous little war. The English army took over the few small naval vessels that survived from the old Royal Navy, a major base was set up on the Isle of Man which was free of contamination and damage and was safe, being in the middle of the Irish Sea. Here the small number of coastal patrol and gunboat type craft managed to patrol the waters and the sea relatively easily, small clashes/skirmishes with similar craft from Ireland (the North was absorbed by the South after the nuclear war with France and England), Wales and Scotland occurred from time to time. So did gun battles with heavily armed war veterans and freedom fighters smuggling guns, booze and other illegal things from Ireland and the Continent into England. It was a real law of the gun world of barbarity and death, the only power remaining was the small English army, local Police Forces fell into disrepair after the nuclear violence. If you had your own gun you were your own police force and army all in one.

   After the civil war, the nuclear exchange with France and general low level fighting between armed people and the English army, a series of operations was launched by the army to crush the many heavily armed groups. Anyone with weapons and the skill, determination and willingness to use them was a major threat to the army’s slender power base. After an attack against it, the English army acted using its heavy firepower to wipe out groups of war veterans and freedom fighters and individuals who were all armed and dangerous. The English army operation was very successful until it met with fierce resistance when it attacked Oldham; the first attack with heavy weapons was defeated. A second attack was a draw with both sides suffering heavy losses; by using superior skill, tactics and weapons the army took the town, killing, capturing or driving away the freedom fighters that stood up to defend the town. In other towns there was generally much less resistance. Oldham was indirectly destroyed by the army in an operation to capture a hidden stash of weapons and because of booby traps; this was destroyed from a distance by heavy fire. Unknown to the army a tactical nuclear weapon was hidden amongst the other weapons. This detonated when hit by normal high explosive shells destroying the town centre, surrounding flats and houses and everything else to a radius of several of miles. Thousands of people died and were injured by this explosion (much smaller than even the smallest French bombs that hit the country in the previous war).

   After this it was the beginning of the end of the English Army in that part of the country, an attack on their base that sent troops and vehicles to attack Oldham and other towns was a success. The army base was destroyed along with many heavy weapons and hundreds of soldiers; the army now had no influence in the north of England. The nearest other bases was in the Isle of Man where the remaining helicopters and nuclear warheads were based and one in the east of the country. With large helicopters the army flew missions from these to try to hunt down the remaining freedom fighters and war vets who had gone to ground. A few were killed when caught by surprise or by heavily armed heli-borne troops; one chopper was shot down on one of these operations. The Isle of Man base was attacked by an unknown craft allegedly flown by the freedom fighters; a silver flying disc equipped with stealth technology, superior performance and advanced beam weapons. The base was wiped out, every single helicopter was turned to ash, weapons storage bunkers were incinerated, barracks set on fire, army controlled naval vessels sunk burnt to a crisp, hundreds of soldiers killed or injured and the nuclear missiles simply disappeared. The army lost another base, its power was taken away as a fighting force able to threaten, kill, invade or take over the whole country. This would have happened had their operations been successful killing the armed groups. With the army’s nuclear weapons any major target would have been destroyed so a miracle had stopped that. No one knew who flew the flying disc, where it came from or where it went. Only rumours of a witch with unparalleled powers of magic, healing and war fighting ability; many people claimed to have seen her, been healed by her and to have seen her fight the Devil and win. Was it her who destroyed the island base? Her name was Juniper’s Daughter and she thought that nuclear bombs weren’t very nice. Nor the radiation poisoning and dangerous climatic changes they brought. Juniper’s Daughter was back…

   Juniper’s Daughter walked over the gently shifting desert sands feeling the fine grains move between her toes and bare feet. A nice walk in the sun, she took her time on this leisurely stroll under the fierce midday high Saharan sun. A temperature of a hundred and forty two degrees along with humidity of over ninety percent would have killed a normal person, de-hydrated their body and shrivelled their flesh. Not this little lady, she was Juniper’s Daughter, a person who was able to stand most extremes of this natural world, for she was also a part of Mother Nature. She liked being in the extreme areas enjoying the climatic conditions that were so extreme; in her head her agile mind covered many issues at the same time. One caused her some trouble, the event she didn’t stop some years ago because her mortal enemy the Devil got one up on her: a nuclear war that killed nearly a hundred million people in less than a day. The nuclear exchange between England (and Wales and Scotland) and France caused by something so trivial and stupid – a fishing dispute in the North Sea. With fishing quotas per nation at their lowest limit ever, boats returned to port with half a catch or even empty. Desperate measures followed with rival crews cutting the nets of their foreign competitors, boarding the boats and smashing the sonar equipment used to locate fish, assaulting the crew members and the occasional death. Naval warships were deployed to escort the fishing vessels and patrol the seas; both nations sent guided missiles frigate type ships. It was only time before they came into contact and under tense and circumstances not fully understood shots were exchanged, first warning and then direct fire. Naval vessels were damaged and sunk, French missiles fired from a naval vessel attacked an English homeport and this was chased down and sunk. A French port was hit by English missile fire; an escalation came in the form of a French tactical warhead fired by submarine on a naval shipyard at Portsmouth. Revenge was swift, multiple submarine launched nuclear missiles were fired by the Royal Navy missile submarines at every known French military harbour, ship repair facility, dockyard with military vessels at anchor, aircraft production factories, military air bases, troop barracks and other targets. Most civilian targets like towns and cities were spared at first from the English first strike, only after the French retaliated by launching their own nuclear missiles at English military targets, towns and cities, did they get hit in a horrible escalation of hideous proportions killing millions of English civilians, decimating the areas hit and wiping out most military bases. It would have been much worse had the Royal Navy not managed to sink two of the four French nuclear submarines carrying half of France’s sea borne nuclear arsenal. French naval aircraft from that country’s two aircraft carriers engaged targets in Scotland while flying at the limit of their range. Not all the Rafale naval nuclear strike fighters got through the Royal Navy F-35 Lightning 2 fighters or the defending Royal Air Force Typhoon fighters, which flew from bases in the North of England. Due to Scotland’s independence they had to fly an extra 400+ miles to engage the French fighters, having lost their old bases in Scotland. Nuclear tipped cruise missiles hit these vacant bases and all of the major Scottish towns and cities, no mercy even on a country independent from England.

   The English response was swift, more missiles were launched at French air bases not yet hit, at every French town and city over ten thousand people, the naval vessels of the Royal Navy hunted down every single French aircraft carrier, frigate, destroyer and nuclear submarine sinking every single major vessel. The losses it took to do this were only slightly less than the French had sustained, in total four carriers and eight nuclear missile subs along with seven patrol submarines from both nations were on the bottom. French air force jets that survived the nuclear bombardment of their bases, avoided the English fighters to launch their weapons had no bases to fly back to. It was almost a suicide mission.

  At what cost and stupidity the witch angrily thought, the Devil had won this round with nearly a hundred million dead and four countries in ruins. Neighbouring countries suffered blast damage and fallout, with large areas evacuated of people until it became safe to return home, if that was ever possible. The witch did her best to stop the domino effect of other countries launching their own missiles to settle their grudges. In this the witch was successful but it was close with Russia nearly launching at America over a dispute in the Crimea. This was an ongoing problem that Juniper’s daughter finally brought to an end using her flying saucer to do her duty, to keep the peace.

   Back to reality, the witch looked up at the sun while it slowly arced over the heavens, as it had done for millions of years in an unending cycle of night and day, of light and dark. Yes she had done well but she had to always be on her guard, she never knew when the next problem would arise either by humankind’s own doing or the Devil upsetting the balance. She was good at what she did but she didn’t get it right every time, her failure with the nuclear exchange was her biggest loss, she swore that would never happen again. Not on her watch. She thanked her Mother, Great Goddess Juniper for giving her only daughter Juniper another chance to steer the humans away from the temptation of evil and darkness. In the very early days her Mother had done the same job as her daughter but then it was so much easier, nuclear weapons didn’t exist and today, the next generation of weapons just coming on line were even more hideous and evil – nuclear powered laser beam weapons.

   She had to do something about that before millions more innocents died; the weapons designers, builders and politicians needed dealing with. How? Direct action would be too obvious; mind control leading to cancellation of the weapon programs and deployment plans was the only way. People had to realise the lethality of these devises without seeing them in action first. Turning, she walked slowly back over the undulating sand dunes, back to her silver coloured disc that shimmered in the high summer heat. Closing her eyes Juniper’s Daughter sent the command; a small opening appeared in the disc’s side allowing her to athletically climb aboard. Seconds later the opening closed and the disc slowly climbed upward, shooting off at great speed and Juniper’s Daughter’s new job – the eradication of a new class of deadly beam weapons.

   Cobalt Blue weapons lab, former Soviet Union. Doctor Gregori Ivan Ivan Ivanovich was pulling his trousers up after getting a blowjob from his Mexican whore, he frowned when he saw his own spunk stain on his trousers. Fuck, this was pants! He wiped it off with the cuff of his stained white lab coat. His sale of hand held laser weapons to the Mexican drug dealers was fine and dandy, they would slowly kill off American financed gangs in Mexico City and elsewhere and bring more Russo Block influence to the region. In time he would move up to the export of laser rifles, then laser cannons to go on the back of pick up trucks, onto coastal ships and bigger and bigger till America was surrounded. Finally into space…

   In return for this he got a Mexican whore every month to satisfy his desires on, like Anna Maria who had just sucked his four-inch hardly useable Kazakh cock dry. He would fuck her later but now he had a weapons test to complete on the MK12 plasma laser rifle. The target was the previous bitch that he didn’t want anymore because he had used her and abused her and knew every whole on her sweet 17-year-old body. She couldn’t be sent back as it was a one-way service for the girls, in return for laser arms. Smiling and saying that he would be back for more afterwards, Ivan left the small room that served as his quarters, securely locking the door so no one could pry into his business and so the girl wouldn’t escape. He walked to the lab and checked up on progress – all was well; the weapon was mounted securely on a test bench bore-sighted on the target. This was the previous girl he had discarded; she was tied to a wooden chair that was firmly mounted to the floor by special plastic attachments, all of this would burn when his by laser fire.

   He looked through the one way mirror made of two inch gold plated glass out onto the indoor test range. He saw the girl sat on a chair with her eyes closed, dozing. No doubt thinking of Mexico and freedom, her Hail Mary’s wouldn’t save now. The countdown clock slowly ticked by, Ivan checked the computer display showing the status of the laser rifle aimed at the girl and all was in the green. He inspected the weapon in the other room separated by a reinforced concrete wall and six-inch blast doors, no problems there. He walked down range to the girl and stood in front of her, looking at her – there was no mark on her for he didn’t believe in beating women. He saved that for his soldiers who sometimes fucked up on a task. Silently as he had come he softly walked back to the lab leaving the sleepy girl, glanced up at the clock while the secure door shut and put on his blackened safety goggles. Seconds ticked down: 10, 9, ….3, 2, 1. The weapon was connected to a small nuclear reactor the size of a small can of baked beans, this was the nuclear power supply for this new class of weapon giving many more laser bursts than a normal battery pack. Fire! Green light coloured the room a beautiful luminous green as the gun fired a two second concentrated burst of laser energy, a pencil thin beam was visible even under the strong spot lamps. Then the light faded, the reactor powered down, the door locks automatically unlocked and it was time to check the girl. Opening the door Ivan and two other lab technicians walked out of the test room and onto the range to the girl, only there was no girl there just a pile of blackened ash eighteen inches high – the remains of the girl, the chair and the plastic chair restraints. The technicians carried equipment and they went to work taking radiation samples, still photos on an advanced multi spectrum camera and readings on other secret advanced tools. She hadn’t even screamed but she must have opened her eyes a millisecond before she died in the hideous evil green light.

   Did she suffer? He doubted it. Ivan would review the film footage from the camera bank later after lunch, he would slow the million per second frame camera down and watch the girl in her last seconds on earth, seconds that he was responsible for. As he was about to turn and head back to the lab and then canteen to eat, leaving the techs to finish their job and clear up the mess something happened. Ivan glanced to the wall for some reason and then looked away, then back again. A whooshing sound filled the firing range and the wall disintegrated in front of him in a super display of pyrotechnics. Had the nuclear reactor failed? It was his last question before he died, as he watched a silver suited figure stroll through the still molten concrete and metal, a lithe female figure dressed as an astronaut.

   It was Juniper’s Daughter carrying a hand held laser weapon of extremely advanced design, making Ivan’s designed nuclear powered laser weapon look like a child’s spud gun. The witch shot him and turned the laser fire from an alien designed weapon onto the two techs and then onto the lab wiping everything out. She said a silent prayer and invocation for the lost Mex whore, she couldn’t be brought back. The witch tried to use mind control on the Russo criminals who built these laser weapons but it was too late, the Devil had claimed them so she had to act directly. Later she returned to her flying saucer that she had left hovering above the weapons complex and climbed to two thousand feet altitude. She beamed down red ruby laser fire from the disc, evaporating and vaporising the whole weapons site and everyone who was left alive. This type of weapon being built here couldn’t be brought into service; it would make killing all too easy, never mind the classes of weapon due to come on line later, much more powerful and deadly. With her attack being visible from beyond the complex’s grounds, word would get round that someone had taken the place out and don’t build such weapons. Would connections be made to the trashing of the English army’s last major base many years previously on the Isle of Man? She certainly hoped so…

   Amongst the bomb damaged ruins of what was once England people suffered grievous deaths in the radiation that blanketed the wrecked towns, cities, other targets and huge areas unaffected by the blast. Some towns were untouched by the nuclear warheads, either the French deemed the town unimportant, didn’t have enough weapons or the missile failed or the plane was shot down. Most of the main cities were hit but Manchester was spared yet Salford was decimated by a small 150-kiloton bomb with heavy loss of life. When Salford died people in Manchester knew they would be next but when no weapon hit them they tried to understand why, in their shocked state after seeing their neighbouring city destroyed. Warheads from the same missile flattened Liverpool and Birkenhead. War was organised chaos and sometimes mercy spared a city and her population due to pure circumstance. Things would never be the same again, the law of the gun ruled the remaining streets, like English army patrols, single gunmen, war veterans or freedom fighters from the past campaigns. This way of life added more deaths, injuries and suffering to the already shell shocked landmass, only supernatural actions would stop it and defeat the number one enemy – the Devil. It was his fault that all the people died and damage was done, forcing confused, frightened, angry men to push the red button and fire the missiles to kill, kill, kill!

   People still talked about the sightings of strange lights in the sky. Of an astronaut that flew a strange silver flying disc, of ghosts and spectres, of Juniper’s Daughter. After this rash of sightings it suddenly stopped, no one knew why but in peoples’ dark hearts some of the darkness had receded – the witch had been partially successful in her campaign against the Devil. The longest war in history, light versus darkness. How Juniper’s Daughter wished it would end but she was a total realist who was battle hardened, knowing that combat with her enemy and the resistance he put up was essential in the path of all things.

   It wasn’t always stopping armies or weapon designers that brought Juniper’s Daughter into conflict with people; often it was determined dangerous individuals who were capable of carrying out actions that jeopardised many people. One example was in the country of Serbia where a computer hacker called Ludolf Arkane set about gaining extra funds to buy arms and ammunition to help in his organised crime actions. A highly skilled computer hacker capable of overcoming Class A computer security systems, Ludolf was both intelligent and determined. He preferred to work alone rather than in a group when it came to computer actions, only when it was frontline crime like ambushing Serbian Police carrying the newest computer equipment, was he involved in a group or other secretive paramilitary operations.

   With the skills he had from years of illegal hacking, he got into the top European and American banking systems and withdrew the lowest level of currency possible from every persons account. Then it wouldn’t be noticeable, like taking thousands was from a few accounts, this way he amassed a fortune for himself and his armed gang. He bought illegal weapons from bent contacts within the Serbian military, government and state owned arms factories. In time he planned not to confront the army for power or to overcome the government and become leader but to target foreign individuals, companies, power structures of any kind and any other target that needed to be taken out, for a price. The first operation was carried out over the border in Albania, a closed private country that eyed Serbia with suspicion and hostility due to religious, ethnic and border dispute issues. Ludolf and a group of six heavily armed men trekked three days over the high mountains avoiding the passes and tracks to illegally enter Albania, carrying everything they needed. Moving slowly with stealth they blended into the rough scenery and rugged landscape, not even calling their home base on mobile, radio or sat phone. Emission free, invisible, not existing. At their target they laid up for two days watching their target’s movements to tally this up with previous intelligence. They missed nothing, they were the best the black world provided, they had the cash to buy the best weapons and the best men and not even the Serbian military could match them, or dare to try.

   By a small coastal town ringed by high mountains cut off from the outside world lived the target; the only access was by the hazardous Adriatic Highway, by sea or by air. Only brave or foolish people came over the mountains. Dushabe Constanza was a man of notoriety in Albania and the Balkans, he was their target who had to be killed, the money of his bank accounts taken and his crime operation neutralised and if possible taken over by the Serbian group led by Ludolf. Moving silently and quickly the group surrounded Dushabe’s villa in the dusk of the dying day, taking out a small laptop computer Ludolf hacked into the villa’s security systems to neutralise it. Putting the CCTV cameras onto a loop so they couldn’t be seen, turning the remote controlled guns off but in a way that wasn’t picked up by control and other things. Inside the building the killing began, first the security staff that were meant to protect Dushabe from this type of op, in this they failed not even returning fire cut down by silenced pistols. The cleaners, maid and family members were next until the group finally confronted their target – Dushabe. He pulled a gun on the group and fired three rounds, hitting two men in the head, killing one and wounding the other; the remainder quickly overpowered the big Albanian and started to torture him, old skool. With pliers on his balls, metal nails down his fingernails and other evil tricks to make a man talk. It was only a matter of time until the tough Albanian talked revealing bank account numbers, the location of a medium amount of cash, where his weapons cache was (this would be blown up with time delay bombs), what his new and long term business contracts were and any other useful info. Then they killed him by shooting him three times in the head, setting fire to his body along those of his dead staff and colleagues and the villa. A random spread of time delay bombs would make the clean up of the place difficult by the authorities or Dushabe’s remaining men.

   Quietly leaving the corpse and burning villa the four able men and one-wounded Serbian paramilitary men entered the nearby town of Miaman. With plenty of ammo and explosive it was time to have some fun at the expense of the local Albanians, walking down the main street by the seafront the group split up and headed off to do trouble. Gunfire soon echoed down night time streets as the gun men fired into sleep houses or the odd night bar that was still open, casualties due to gunfire weren’t so heavy. It was the explosive that caused most mayhem, haphazardly placed time bombs dropped into long grass near bus stops, by an electricity sub station, tossed into the shallow harbour under the bow of a ship, placed under a parked up lorry full of pallets of cooking oil. One terrorist primed his bomb for instant detonation and chucked it with all his strength onto a petrol station forecourt, it detonated five yards from the pumps in a huge blast severing fuel hoses and making a crater that blew in the top of the fuel storage tank. A massive blaze engulfed the station and a wave of burning fuel ran down the gently sloping road setting cars, houses and shops on fire.

   Only now did the Albanian police and army react to this attack, they wouldn’t miss the death of Dushabe or his men but the destruction of the small coastal town was something else. Confused by the violence of the attack, by the flames and by the high level of training of the attackers made many problems for the authorities; they suffered many dead and injured hunting down the Serbian gunmen. Ludolf made it back over the border alone unscathed, the wounded man was killed in a gun fight with cops rather than surrender, the remaining men were killed one by one over the next two days when the authorities became more organised. The Albanian government fell, chaos reigned, rogue army units shelled Serbian villages bordering Albania and a dozen angry soldier conscripts crossed over the border after shooting their officer dead and took revenge by burning, raping and killing in a Serbian town but not on a scale as had happened in Albania. In return, Serbian air force jets bombed Albanian targets with little accuracy and open war started with centuries of hate boiling to the surface. Albanian helicopter gunships shot up Serbian troops massing by the border planning to invade Albania.

   Ludolf planned his next operation as the chaos reigned and his country became the Balkan superpower again – an attack on Croatia, similar to the one he had just hit Albania with. If successful this would lead to more Balkan instability, the German lead European Union would have to deploy peacekeepers along with NATO led military, separating and maybe even fighting in the Albanian-Serbian war. Ludolf would become very rich and very powerful out of all of this; he would lead crime gangs throughout the whole Balkan area and control a criminal empire even more powerful than the mafia in Sicily, Italy and the US. One thing stood in Ludolf’s way – Juniper’s Daughter.

   Juniper’s Daughter flew her flying disc low over the choppy waves of the Adriatic, climbed steeply over the coastal mountains and over the battleground that was now Albania to head into Serbia. She gave them a light show to pause the fighting as she flew over and then made her ship even more visible while she slowed and challenged the Serbian Mig 43 jets in aerial warfare. She shot down three in quick succession killing the pilots, reducing the Serbian air force strength by a fifth. These new Mig jets cost a fortune and Serbia was a poor country. Coming over Ludolf’s heavily fortified villa the witch cloaked her craft making it invisible, she hovered a metre over the roof and entered the gangster’s house. He didn’t see her as he sat at his computer and hacked into an American military computer system to illicit more illegal funds and cause confusion in his enemy. Silently watching him the witch became visible, she spoke startling the evil man, “Ludolf. Stop what you are doing. It is wrong!”

   “Motherfucker! How the fuck did you get in here?” he screamed with wide eyes. He reached for a gun and fired two shot at the witch; she ducked and gracefully rolled across the floor to stand in front of him. With a well-aimed kick she knocked the gun from Ludolf’s hands. Menace and revenge flickered in his hate filled Serbian eyes; he rose and stood in a combat stance, his upper body muscles rippled and his arms moved ready to strike. He shot a curving punch to Juniper’s Daughter, she moved her head to one side and it missed, as did the quick follow up, a right jab at her side. Ludolf swore and snap kicked, catching the witch on her thigh in a powerful kick. She almost fell backwards but before he brought his foot back down she caught it in both her hands and lifted with all her strength. The Serb went flying over onto his back nearly breaking his neck, totally stunning him and he became aware he was losing this fight. Where the fuck was his security detail? How had this blond haired bitch gotten past them? They were the best!

   She walked up to the stunned man and kicked him in the ribs before he could get up, she felt two ribs give, actually heard the snap when the bone broke. Again she kicked him, more gently this time to show him she was the boss. “What you did was wrong! Your attack and the death it caused. You have to learn your lesson and never do it again, do you understand?” she told him in Serbian.

   “Okay, you win. I’ll stop. Yes I did wrong, I thought it was the right thing to do,” Ludolf painfully lied through gritted teeth.

   “I know you took out your Albanian opposite number but your attack on an innocent town has caused a war. You have sided with the Devil, either on purpose or innocently. What you have done can’t be allowed to continue!” Juniper’s Daughter commented angrily. She never took her eyes off the crippled man.

   “Look, I promise you I am sorry! I will never do it again! Kill me if you want, your problem is solved then!” he remonstrated.

   “Don’t give me ideas Ludolf! I may take you up on the offer!”

   “That’s your choice. I’m no threat to you now, I’m unarmed, you bust my ribs and I’m on my back. You nearly broke my neck! How the fuck can you fight like that?” the man lied, hoping he was convincing.

   “Much practise with people like you over many lifetimes! You’re a piece of cake. For some reason I don’t believe you! For that I’ll have to kill you so you can’t do anymore evil form which the Devil benefits,” Juniper’s Daughter told him.

   It was then Ludolf knew no mere mortal woman confronted him, her fighting experience and knowledge was impossible for a girl of no more than twenty-five. This was crazy! He had to kill her, right now. As quickly as was possible he flicked his right arm and a hidden three inch blade shot forth hitting the witch in the chest, it stuck in up to the handle.

   Pure anger filled her entire being as she tried to direct it in a focused wave of energy at Ludolf but it wasn’t totally possible, her body was rapidly dying and she was losing this battle. The energy fizzed and popped from out of her being, giving the Serb cancerous cells and a withered right arm. She was being pulled someplace else that wasn’t of this world. She would finish this little war another time…

   Juniper soothed her daughter gently stroking her hair, “Child you can’t win every battle and it just isn’t possible. You did your best, we both know that.”

   “I know Mother but I was so close, Ludolf acted for the Devil, that I’m sure. My death by Ludolf’s hands is another victory for evil against us!” Juniper’s Daughter cried.

   “I know my dear, I know if we won every time there would be no evil, no Devil and in the end no job for us. This is what we have to do; long ago when I was earth bound it was my job, now it’s your turn. Soon you will return and the fight will continue, you can stop the Albanian/Serbian war and bring peace and positivity to the region, the world,” Juniper quietly said.

   “I know Mother, I was doing so well. This endless struggle does tire me out. Was that why I failed this time? Was it?” the crying witch desperately asked.

   “No my dear Daughter, you are even better at this than I ever was. It’s just sometimes we fail, we can’t win every time. It’s the way it is, the law of light and darkness proclaims it to be this way. We can’t change that; all we can do is to fight for the light and for goodness my dear. Rest now, shh, rest, all will be okay…”

   Juniper’s Daughter closed her eyes and dreamed of peace and of happiness, not of a world in trouble so very far away that tugged at the edge of her mind, trying to pull her back. For now she slept and let Nature run her course, developing a new body for the witch, moulding her talents from her previous self into the infinite knowledge that was her energy, life force and magic. Without it she was nothing but an empty shell with no soul, her life force was powerful and never-ending, how many times had she been born, died and reborn? In this cycle of life that was the witch Juniper’s Daughter who was humankind’s only defence against themselves and the Devil. What would happen if she decided to join the other camp, turn herself over to the Devil and work with him dooming the world to total darkness forever more? Could she do that to defeat the Devil once and for all? Would that ever be necessary or would he draw the witch in and control her like a puppet on a string caught in a spider’s web of pure evil? If that happened would her Mother Juniper have to be earthbound again to fight her own daughter and the Devil? Who would watch over the upper realms? There was no one else…

   Down on the wicked place that was the earth, fighting went on in selective areas flaring up like a brush fire under the summer sun, dying down for a period and then re-igniting twice as ferocious. From north to south and east to west something was always happening to bring misery to individuals or countries or whole races of people. This seemed to increase when the witch was absent almost like the Devil was taking advantage of some free time to cause mayhem and mischief to blanket the land in darkness and evil. For certain individuals especially children the evil one had a special way to do this – night terrors; spread selectively amongst weak, impressionable, easily targeted kids. He spread evil wicked dreams that caused sheer terror, laden with darkness, evil images and foreboding, throwing negativity onto these young innocents who were now in the grasp of the Devil. With enough night terror dreams a good number would turn out to be evil in their thoughts, actions and their souls. As they grew up more selective targeting by the evil one would make dark warriors for his cause, to spread darkness over the land eventually killing and doing wanton destruction. In war situations this was ideal because anything went, as the individuals thought they were acting on their own beliefs, when in reality Satan placed it their years before. In peaceful societies this brought low-level problems that were often unnoticed.

   Through human history the Devil had won darkly with some spectacular victories even though he often lost the war – Hitler and Stalin were two of his most successful dealers of death, killing over 70 million people. Hell was full of many souls making the Devil smile like a wicked Cheshire cat, what was called Heaven had more souls in it by comparison, mainly innocent victims of war and cruelty. Juniper’s Daughter had the skills to be evil but her intent wasn’t there, she acted for the good of humanity, nature and the world in this constant battle to stop the evil. Her latest battle ended in failure. Soon she would be ready for the next round, where would she be fighting next? And with who?

   In a cold place death camps were being established again, soon people would be shipped here to be used as slave labour till they were worked to death in mines and factories and other traumatic environments. An army still existed, it moved to control areas contaminated by radiation where no living thing survived in an area of nuclear devastated cities and towns, fallout zones covering huge area of wasteland including abandoned towns polluted by fallout. Living there was a death sentence. These places were taken over for reasons of pure evil, the Devil wasn’t done just yet and this place was called Siberia but it wasn’t in Russia…

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Three by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Three by Jimmy Boom Semtex


Copyright 2015 Jimmy Boom Semtex. All rights reserved.


ISBN: 978-1-326-19179-5


A mother and daughter running team were next in line. Fire Extinguisher Man met them in a small park he was jogging in. No second glances were needed, they were hot. And a mother and daughter tag team was the order of the day. It was a normal pick up.
"Hi ladies. How are you both doing this fine morning?" Fire Extinguisher Man greeted them.
"Hi there, what's happening dude?" the younger smaller lady replied. She was the daughter. Her black leggings, white trainers and pink top gave her an athletic look. As did her shapely thighs and toned up arms. Her age was roughly eighteen but she looked older.
"Good morning," commented the mother. She was aged around thirty eight and tall. Her height gave her both elegance and an even more athletic grace than her pretty daughter. Blond hair and brown eyes made her look like a Bond girl, a real lady.
"Nice to meet you both," the gigolo replied with a smile.
"Good running?" the daughter asked.
"Yes, not bad. I've done two miles round the park. I'll do another and call it a day. I need a shower. I'm all sweaty."
"All sweaty hmm? The smell of a real man," mum said, winking.
"Oh yes, I hear women like a sweaty man. Is that true ladies?" This was Fire Extinguisher Man's chance.
"Well... I love a man smelling of sweat. The sign of a real man," the younger woman said. Her green eyes flashed with desire.
"Fancy that then..."
"And I agree with my daughter. I love a real man. Are you a real man?"

The Lady From Afar (condensed version. Verse 1 by Jimmy Boom Semtex/Nick Armbrister. Verse 2 by PJ Reed)

condensed (words removed) version of my poem written with P.j. Reed. i prefer this version tho the original is quite different but equally good. took an hour to do thru my verse. see what you think. both versions will be in my new poem book out in late 2015. the book is called PICNIC.

The Lady From Afar
(condensed version. Verse 1 by Jimmy Boom Semtex/Nick Armbrister. Verse 2 by PJ Reed)

I see the lady from afar look away. Not from me something else. What? Known to her. Malady tormenting others can't see. Her mind something? Mischievous spirit malevolent demon? Power tarnish reputation hound senses crush will to live. Frightful expression forms upon pretty face. Shadows drop light green eyes. Real imagined? Fantastically cruel fakery beyond doubt? Long black dress once elegant. Stained ever darker - blood! Her own? If another's what happened? Fight a lover? Duel with sister? Insane mother unhinged? Herself falling to the abyss?

She approaches; trailing lavender fields and golden summers through the amber streets. A thousand years of ancient wonder in the greeness of her eyes. Drifts of ebony hair wave to me as she walks. An intoxicating eastern beauty. I reach out as she glides by. Black dress caught between by fingers, crumbles to my touch. I breathe her ash, it cuts my throat, makes my eyes bleed red. I choke in penance for my lust and fall screaming to the ground as I see in the distance the lady from afar.

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Four by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Four by Jimmy Boom Semtex


"Hello there. I'm Ste. How was your trip?"
"Nice to meet you Ste. It was fine thanks. No traffic and nice weather," Fire Extinguisher Man replied, smiling.
"Come on in and meet my wife."
"Thanks." The ex fireman followed Ste into his house. It was an expensive and lavishly fitted out property. Ste obviously has a good job and life. And wife. His wife is hot!
"Well hello there. You must be Fire Extinguisher Man," a lady's voice said. It belonged to a goddess. She was sat on the low blue leather settee. Wearing absolutely nothing.
Fire Extinguisher Man was speechless.
"This is my wife. Her name is Maluha. She's from Hawaii," Ste explained.
"Right, cool. Nice to meet you... erm... Mali is it?" He got her name wrong and couldn't take his eyes off her.
"It's Maluha. M-A-L-U-H-A. You'll get the hang of it," the goddess named Maluha commented, grinning.
"Sit down. Mahula doesn't bite. Unless you want her to. Would you like a drink?"
Fire Extinguisher Man sat down next to Mahula. "Coffee's fine, thanks."
"Coming up. Get to know my wife." Ste went into the kitchen to do the drinks.
Mahula kissed Fire Extinguisher Man. He felt her warm body even though he was fully dressed. Her kiss was like honey. His hands found her breasts and fondled them. She firmly felt his chest, noticing his toned up frame. It drove her wild. She bit his lip and mounted him, bucking like a bronco.

Land 

All over this land there are people and families living.

Guys and gals living how they do.

Adding to the history of our nation.

In towns and villages, by the coast in small harbours and on isolated islands.

Young and old, happy and sad.

See them in their lives, so many past memories and future dreams.

We are them, they are us.

Some are parents, others kids doing what kids do.

Adults work to support their families, coal miners and soldiers, waitresses and bar girls.

Our country, home to so many people.

Shaped by war and forged in battle.

A third of the world was our empire.

Empire people settled here as decades pass.

Pages add to the story of England.

Day by day, dawn becoming dusk.

What will tomorrow bring for us all.

Joyous family life or perilous battle abroad?

Will you take a summer day trip to Chester or a winter holiday in Durham?

England here for us all to see.

So much to see and do.

You add to our history in your own way.

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Three by Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Three by Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

link to my free ebook download It Doesn�??t Snow In November - Nick's world of writing

link to my free ebook download It Doesn�??t Snow In November - Nick's world of writing

Powder Blue Sky - Nick's world of writing

Powder Blue Sky - Nick's world of writing

JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER

She walked over the mountains down from the north of the landmass, three quarters of her journey was over high ground above one thousand feet through weather that would kill a normal person. Snow fell steadily reducing visibility to ten metres when the freezing fog descended covering the barren moor land in white and grey contrasts from Her Mother’s womb, form where she descended just before. She belonged to the land, it to her in the wheel of life, a never-ending cycle of birth and death incarnate. Stepping over rough shaped rocks in a small sunken stream, she headed downwards following the watercourse to lower levels. Ice formed in pools striating the water surface in glittering artwork that no other eyes saw or would ever appreciate.

   Her dress was unsuitable for the weather and altitude, a multicoloured jacket figure hugging down to her trim narrow waste made of rough woven material resembling dyed goat hair, a long brown skirt made of velvet soaked and frozen like rock, size 6 black boots of tough punishment. Under her jacket a silk white blouse of such pure material that it was almost transparent over which a black jumper of thick black hair from a black longhaired Alsatian dog. Once her faithful travelling companion till mortal age took the animal cruelly from her, she still mourned her loss but fully understood nothing was permanent, forever. Around her delicate neck hung a circle of roughly beaten pure silver with a pentagram star on the facing side, a snake on the reverse. Her beautiful shoulder length hair was matted with rain, ice and snowflakes, frozen as the wind blew a few remaining strands past her clear green meadowful eyes. She missed nothing and knew everything, yet she was modest in her views and never boastful of her experience or her roots. Her journey was one of healing and of forgiveness; of the gift of insight and knowledge to a select few who would help spin the world away from darkness that had claimed so many lives and wrought so much destruction. Through Scotland she had slowly wandered travelling so very slowly often facing hostility and unkindness from the rough wild people she encountered, they remembered her though. A reaction was something positive; this built togetherness, a common understanding and forgiveness and reconciliation. Two individuals she met helped change part of the path into the light and of unconditional love and forgiveness, on its own it wasn’t enough, she desperately had to find two more people who a higher power had chosen to work with her, as before to stop this madness. After that to Wales, then to France to sort this mess mankind had created out, if she failed the world was doomed to death and darkness in the next cycle. The Devil was close at hand in all manner of affairs, recent events had proved that, of which she knew and understood more than those taking part.

   Over her left shoulder she carried a handmade bag containing her possessions, hers alone, the key to channelling her power when the time was right, not until. One thing she did remove from her bag was a leather water bottle from which she drank the last of the contents. Stopping by a frozen pool she looked at the ice before breaking it with her boot heel, water flooded out of the hole becoming sluggish immediately, she knelt and filled her bottle with no problem. Water seemed to flow freely into it, she stood to drink almost the full contents, refilled it again and continued on her journey. She removed some damp bread from her pocket eating it in thirty seconds, smiling at the taste of it, her own skills provided for her. She was a very resourceful young lady of many talents, of uncertain age but some secrets are just that – secret. Her Mother was much older than her but she never worried on this, with age comes responsibility and experience, more than equal to anything she had met up to now and the future? Evil wanted to claim her as its own, to destroy her if not but she didn’t worry, she was very aware and considered everything, acted on some things. She followed the winding stream that cut through three metre beds of peat revealing rocks and pebbles on its bed, age old with erosion on the north Pennines harried by unusually bad weather. Was her enemy trying to stop her now? She laughed aloud mocking the darkness with her light and good heart, invincible. Her eyes followed her path seeing nothing but her scene in guttural light, cut by snowflakes and mist like fog, a pretty site really. Nothing was visible over the steep streamsides.

   She came onto the area where it happened only a few days before, a battle of such ferocity that nothing survived. She knew various groups of people fought one another, to kill or take over or for fun, this small village was called Greenfield, situated further down the valley she walked down from the snowy hills. Looking up she saw snow filled peaks high above her, so separate from the death on the streets here amongst the stone houses and narrow streets. A block of houses slowly burned in the rain, smoke wafting down the valley driven by the wind, bodies lay on the street half decomposed by nature and animals. She stopped for minutes taking in the scene, skinny half starved people now dead in the gutter, hands tied behind their backs, no defence. Yards down the road a smoke blackened vehicle with a gun on the back, burnt corpses still manning it even now, English army massacre for what she knew. Reasons didn’t matter only death did this had to stop. Here people had fought bitterly and this was the result, what would the bigger towns and cities be like? She had to be ready for anything, prepare her mind. Stopping she meditated for an hour by a small spring next to a war memorial, enjoying the solace and tranquillity, asking her Mother to heal this wounded spot and forgive the souls which were trapped here earthbound in shock from violent death and war. Her eyes saw everything in her mind, emotions coursed through her agile mind from a place above her and so very distant yet not far at all, positivity came to this barren grey village. Lost lives would never be saved but here she stopped the Devil walking the earth more than momentarily. Small victories counted but turning the living even more, a world was no good with nobody living in it, no matter how imperfect it was. Life counted more than everything else, she could do it, would do it or darkness would fall absolute taking her as a slave to the Devil. He would rape her body, steal her magic and bind her to Him for eternity defeating her and her cycle of light to damnation. Darkness had to exist in equal amounts to light but not smother it, kill it, nor would light be allowed to only exist, a balance was needed. Finished, she left the village slowly walking down the single road through the thinning rain as blue sky briefly made an appearance. After an hour of walking she saw a man on his own, she cautiously approached him as he sat on a large stone by the side of the road. Stopping before him she asked permission to join him, to sit by his side, he nodded not saying a word, as she sat. She picked up his emotions and thoughts not wanting to intrude but needing to know just enough so she would be able to engage in conversation without scaring him to death.  When he talked it startled her but she smiled honestly at his openness and warmth after enduring recent actions here, three days ago viewing them from this very spot. He hadn’t moved at all since then, not eaten or drank. She offered him some water and the last of her bread she had freshly made earlier, he accepted thanking her through full mouthfuls. She wished she had more but she didn’t, that didn’t stop her making some right there and then before the man, his needs were great she realised. As she prepared her small fire from wood she carried, lighting it with smaller bits she rubbed together catching on wool kindling from a leather pouch, in a small hearth of stones from the side of the road, the man talked. He rambled on about the English army coming to town looking for enemy freedom fighters, a list of so-called traitors and trouble causers. When no one helped they forcibly took men of fighting age and shot them along with selected family members, it wasn’t all one sided though. A mother of one of the boys fought back setting on fire one of the military vehicles with a firebomb. She was shot to death soon after, the man here was left as a witness to tell others what happened, fear was the best weapon by far than bullets and soldiers. This was three days ago; he was nearly dead from thirst and had lost nearly a stone through not eating, stress and worry. Preparing the ingredients she soon had a rough loaf being prepared, she left it to cook as she listened to the story of hell from the man, as the bread rose she talked to him.

   “I see that you are deeply troubled by seeing what happened here by the army doing evil deeds, the work of the Devil. They are wrong to do that, no matter how right they may think they are. Only understanding and forgiveness will ever set the path for the end of this mess, this dark path. Here, take this bread and water, it’s all I have but it will help you. I must go now. Remember, look after yourself and tell others you see that I’m here. Everything will be all right, this I promise you. My name is Juniper’s Daughter,” Juniper’s Daughter slowly, calmly reassured the man. Putting out her fire she stood to leave, smiling as she did so. A feeling of calm and hope filled the once lost man. Then she was gone.

SUCCESS - Nick's world of writing

SUCCESS - Nick's world of writing

On The Way - Nick's world of writing

On The Way - Nick's world of writing

Angel's fall

Angel's fall

The Japanese F-35 stealth fighter followed the Cessna business jet as it flew high, at fifty two thousand feet. He was at the edge of his height capability. But it was enough. His wingman was three miles below, covering lower height bands. Chen bet on height and random course changes to avoid detection. He was wrong. The F-35 picked up the white twin engine plane breaking the No Fly Zone. He didn't even radio a warning. It was too easy. His single heat seeking missile hit the Cessna CJ4 under the tail and exploded. Are Jelma and Chen martyrs for fashion? Would they reach China safely? Or were they dead?

An amateur radio operator picked up the sound of an explosion and a garbled transmission off a woman: 'We live for us, for love, for fashion, for peace.' Then there was silence.

The China/Japan war intensified...

An Ocean of Fish by Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

An Ocean of Fish by Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

Berlin Tokyo War Hearts By Nick Armbrister Black Squirrel - Nick's world of writing

Berlin Tokyo War Hearts By Nick Armbrister Black Squirrel - Nick's world of writing

Ian and Abby Go Thai Copyright 2014 Nick Armbrister. - Nick's world of writing

Ian and Abby Go Thai Copyright 2014 Nick Armbrister. - Nick's world of writing

my erotic best seller Ian and Abby Adult Erotic Short Stories - Nick's world of writing

my erotic best seller Ian and Abby Adult Erotic Short Stories - Nick's world of writing

tat - Nick's world of writing

tat - Nick's world of writing

Golden Triangle Snow - Nick's world of writing

Golden Triangle Snow - Nick's world of writing

Twatting Cunt - Nick's world of writing

Twatting Cunt - Nick's world of writing

meet the gigolo and read of his escapades...

meet the gigolo and read of his escapades...

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Three by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Running Team
A mother and daughter running team were next in line. Fire Extinguisher Man met them in a small park he was jogging in. No second glances were needed, they were hot. And a mother and daughter tag team was the order of the day. It was a normal pick up.
"Hi ladies. How are you both doing this fine morning?" Fire Extinguisher Man greeted them.

"Hi there, what's happening dude?" the younger smaller lady replied. She was the daughter. Her black leggings, white trainers and pink top gave her an athletic look. As did her shapely thighs and toned up arms. Her age was roughly eighteen but she looked older.
"Good morning," commented the mother. She was aged around thirty eight and tall. Her height gave her both elegance and an even more athletic grace than her pretty daughter. Blond hair and brown eyes made her look like a Bond girl, a real lady.
"Nice to meet you both," the gigolo replied with a smile.
"Good running?" the daughter asked.
"Yes, not bad. I've done two miles round the park. I'll do another and call it a day. I need a shower. I'm all sweaty."
"All sweaty hmm? The smell of a real man," mum said, winking.
"Oh yes, I hear women like a sweaty man. Is that true ladies?" This was Fire Extinguisher Man's chance.
"Well... I love a man smelling of sweat. The sign of a real man," the younger woman said. Her green eyes flashed with desire.
"Fancy that then..."
"And I agree with my daughter. I love a real man. Are you a real man?"
"I can say yes, I am. I'd love to show you, if you both want to see?"
"In the bushes over there then," the mother pointed. "Come on Lisa, let's see a real man in the flesh."