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About Michael Wombat
A Yorkshireman living in the rural green hills of Lancashire, Michael Wombat is a man of huge beard. He has a penchant for good single-malts, inept football teams, big daft dogs and the diary of Mr. Samuel Pepys. Abducted by pirates at the age of twelve he quickly rose to captain the feared privateer ‘The Mrs. Nesbitt’ and terrorised the Skull Coast throughout his early twenties. Narrowly escaping the Revenue men by dressing as a burlesque dancer, he went on to work successively and successfully as a burlesque dancer, a forester, a busker, and a magic carpet salesman. The fact that he was once one of that forgotten company, the bus conductors, will immediately tell you that he is as old as the hills in which he lives. Nowadays he spends his time writing, telling tall tales in his bio, and pretending to take good photographs. You can have a good laugh at his blog or his photographs, but most of all please go and mock him mercilessly on Twitter or Facebook. Michael Wombat has published over one book. Other authors are available.
“Michael Wombat brought us to near tears by his short stories. He is a natural story teller.” – Diana Jackson, author of The Riduna Series.
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Titles By Michael Wombat
1. (archaic) a lavishly illustrated book of flowers.
2. a collection or anthology of stories.
Chypre, honeyfur, vellichor - just three of eighteen unusual and beautiful words, some old, some new, but all of which inspired the stories in this book from award-winning author Michael Wombat. The tales are as varied and delightful as the words themselves: chronicles of love sit next to tales of brutality. Time-shifters nestle up to hungry dogs. A private eye wakes up with a donkey’s head in place of his own. You will discover a new delight at every twist and (page) turn.
Also includes a list of over thirty more of the author’s favourite words, with definitions, that did not (yet) give birth to an adventure.
Out of the moonlight they sped in their thousands, swift as death, razor wings glittering in the pale glow of the Wolf Moon. In the frost-shrouded city below, the final toll of the curfew bell faded. Latecomers hurried inside, the hems of their capes whisked through narrowing gaps as doors were slammed, shutters bolted and chimneys blocked.
"A splendid yarn that perfectly captures the tone and flavour of the sci-fi serials of the fifties, and serves it with a sassily modern heroine and a steam punk twist."
Contributing Authors: Michael Wombat, Lisa Shambrook, Boyd Miles, Marissa Ames, Bryan Taylor, Beth Avery, Matt Jameson, Eric Martell, Michael Walker, Stephen Coltrane, and Alex Brightsmith.
“Canada?” said Jensen.
“Well now, I can’t take you that far.” The driver rejoined the highway. “I’m heading for Devil’s Lake, but I can drop you in Petersburg?”
“Thanks,” Rollie said. “That’s great, truly. My name’s Rollie, and this is Johnny.”
“What takes you boys all the way to Canadee?”
“The war,” said Jensen.
“We ain’t got no war, have we?”
“And planes,” Rollie said. “We’re going to fly in the war in Europe.”
“Does Europe matter?”
“Nothing matters more than to fight evil.”
In 1940, on the day that Winston Churchill gave his ‘We shall fight on the beaches’ speech in the House of Commons, Rollie Ernest Buckolz and his friend John Jensen stuck up their thumbs by the side of a dusty South Dakota road, and got the first of a series of lifts that would take them five hundred and sixty miles north into Canada. Their intention was to join the Royal Canadian Air Force and fight for the Allies in Europe. Thrilled by the thought of air service, and enthused by the idea of fighting against Nazi Germany, they were prepared to risk losing their US citizenship to fight in a war that America had not yet joined. This is the story of one man, and of a hundred and thirty thousand men who followed the same path to war – the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan in Canada.
Ghabrie thrashed: kicking, biting, struggling against strong arms that restrained her. "Nahria, I'll come for you!" The butt of a rifle thumped the side of her head as her words still echoed across the barren landscape. Ghabrie slipped into an oblivion brought by the hands of her liberators.
Fourteen authors take you on an unprecedented post-apocalyptic journey.
"I have lots of lists. There are the ones that everyone knows, of course: the Naughty List and the Nice List. Then there’s a Grumpy List, a Wide-eyed Believers List, and even, if you can believe it, a Horny For Santa List."
A collection of off-kilter short stories with a Christmas theme from award-winning storyteller Michael Wombat.
This book contains a veritable poetpourri (sic) of variegated verses: storied ballads, rhymes to paint a scene, love poetry, poems of the supernatural, verses both funny and quirky, poems of nostalgia and memory, emotional outbursts and dreams both good and bad. There are haiku, tanka and villanelles. There's even a saga about a crisp factory. Dip in anytime and find a poem to match your mood.
“I am looking for a painless death, Uncle Wolf,” he said, eyes downcast, looking at the sandy ground.
“Ain’t no such thing, sweet boy,” said Wolf, his voice deeper than summer thunder.
Seven short Michael Wombat tales of whispers and delight that you can slip into your pocket.