Cin City

End Matter

What sort of ending is that?

It's a literary ending. Honestly, it is. I've checked. They're allowed. Still, I've included the first few paragraphs from the first chapter of "Four Days" for those of you who maybe, just maybe, need to know whether Shannon and Doug run off to become (international) psychic detectives – or not. Be warned though. The extract contains spoilers because it's set at Shannon and Doug's wedding. Ah, too late. So why not simply get a copy of Four Days...

Thanks:

I am an Indie writer. As such I rely on the kindness of my fellow Indie writers for help and assistance. I particularly wish to acknowledge my fellows who assisted with getting "Cin City" to the stage it is. To the extent that it sings the credit is theirs. Whereas its bum notes are entirely mine.

And to you dear reader:

Thank you for reading my book. I hope it was as much fun for you to read as it was for me to write. If you enjoyed Shannon, Doug, Luci, and Jimmy then please leave a review at your favourite e-book retailer.

Thanks again.

Jamie Campbell.

About Jamie Campbell

I am a pseudonym, a pen name, a nom de plume. As such, I don't exist in a real sense. I exist to the extent that He lets me exist - at least that's what He tells me. I am tenuous at best. My very existence is threatened every day - unless I start to pay my way. The threats, the loathing - it really is no way to not quite exist.

I tell Him that I do exist, that I am published. That strangers like what I do, call me literary; lyrical too. I tell Him that I will last for ever - that my achievements are real, tangible - and don't only exist as electrons.

He says I am not real, my achievements are nugatory, transitory; piffling. I tell him that he ought to be like me: lyrical, beautiful - like a cloud. The cloud. He knows the cloud I talk of. The cloud, for what it was, looked close enough to touch; small enough to catch in a butterfly net. He tells me to shut up. He tells me He has a day job - and it can not wait. And that the cloud is His, and not mine.

I hate Him.

I love him too.

Four Days

a Luci Wijn Novel

Jamie Campbell

SATURDAY

She looked lovely like a bride should have. Part of me was glad to be a bridesmaid, and part of me was even glad to have had a role in it all. Mostly I stood there and thought about how the reality of my life had drifted so far from my plans for it – whereas Shannon had it all figured out. In the last few months, I had gone from my first-round disaster at the U.S. Open to a farm called Valetta. From the cheapest hotel in the mad scramble of New York City to this farm, this unbelievable place so far from home, and surrounded by quietness foreign to me. Whereas Shannon had charted a clear and certain course straight to her altar.

When world-famous players warn bright-eyed kids to stay in school they have people like me in mind. I had stayed in school and finished with merits in mathematics and in sport. For my sins, I chose tennis over University. And for my sins, it terrified me, that I might be starting my last season. And that if it didn't go well I would have to do something else. What worried me most was that I had no idea what that something else would be. Tennis was all I knew, all I ever wanted to know. Professional tennis had been my life for six years, and all I wanted my life to be for the six years before that.