TALLBOYSMITH

Chapter 56 is up for HIFOTWAT

A few people have been reading BtBtB the last week and have been kind enough to vote on each chapter.  If you happen to be reading this (you know who you are) I want to say thank you for keeping my story alive.  Your votes are appreciated.

Chapter 53 HIFOTWAT...writing this hurt my brain.  I'm heading for the fridge for a bottle of wine. 5/5 cliffhanger.

Chapter 48 for HIFOTWAT is up.

Wattpad continues to be a mystery.  Somehow I managed to get to No1 in Supernatural.

As much as I like the details I use in my stories to be as accurate as possible, it's not always doable.  HIFOTWAT being a transmigration story it's been difficult to do that. I have tried but some things I've had to make up ie the rank of Imperial Consort.  Hopefully, the lack of authentic detail isn't bothering you.   
          
          The next chapters are important and yes....have a lot of detail I want to get right. My next update may take longer than usual.

One last snippet from Stalker (one of my favourite characters)as I have writer's block and I'm filling in time.
          
          Ben was at the bottom of the staircase doing his happy dance/dying cockroach impersonation. When he spotted me he was up on his toes like a ballerina ready to take off. Dear God I wish I could video him, I felt like a proud parent. It wasn't a case of him being excited, he was positively manic. The boy had a set of lungs and he was using them. He let out the sort of high-pitched, ear-piercing squeals you'd hear at a boy band concert mosh pit.
          
          He was a sight, wearing his new pale blue short-sleeve shirt, half-buttoned, and a pair of denim shorts that were a little too big and hung to his knees.  It looked like they were only being held up by the small button on the waistband. He obviously hadn't worked out how zippers worked. On his feet, he was wearing the white socks I'd bought him, pulled up as high as they would stretch, and a pair of fluffy kids' slippers. 
          
          Ben was waving a dark blue Yankees cap at me, putting it on his head one way and then another. I noticed he used every one of the scrunchies I gave him on his ponytail, it looked like a long, fat multi-colored sausage on the back of his head.  "Which way does it look best?" He yelled up at me, unable to climb the stairs no matter how much he tried. 
          
           His face was pink, and he looked like an adorable redheaded muppet. He was so young and fragile looking, all gangly arms and legs, bony elbows and knees.  It was hard to believe he died when he was 16.  He looked much younger and verging on malnourished.

Stalker snippet - This is the point where I really started to enjoy writing this book.
          
          Where and when to arrive is problematic with this jump. I don't know how the world works in 1721. The only time I've seen Saint Marks Square is in documentaries when it's packed with tourists snapping photographs. 
          
           I am arriving in the months of the Carnivale and during its most hedonistic period. The indulgent parties and balls held by the nobility and merchants were notoriously decadent and lavish. They would go on into the early hours, sometimes they would last for days. Their guest's anonymity hidden behind masks was the main attraction of these events. The social norms regarding rank, gender, and sexual preference, were set aside.  The rigid rules that controlled every aspect of life in  Venice, La Serenissima, of noble and commoner alike became mute once they donned their masks. No one could be arrested while wearing a mask, they were not acknowledged as a person.  They were their mask, the role they played.  
          
          I decided arriving at Sunrise would be best, even though I wasn't sure if I'd find myself in the middle of a crowd of drunken party-goers, or codega on their way home after a long night traversing the narrow alleyways of the city.  I could be lucky, the square could be deserted.  It will be cold which will work in my favour.
          
          The target area is along the colonnade at the back of The Doges Palace.  It faces out onto the Grand Canal. What an amazing vista to meet my eyes when I arrive.  The main Square is directly behind me. I plan to do some reconnaissance of the  Café Florian and the Vezzi Porcelain Shop, both in the Square proper, and where I will be going on later jumps.  As I am arriving early I'm hoping the streets will be quiet and will allow me a little time to explore at my leisure.  I look forward to a chance to walk along the Grand Canal or perhaps meander through the narrow lanes to find the Rialto Bridge and compare the original to the new.

Considering very few read Stalker I don't feel spoilers really matter, sooo I thought I would put up the odd few paragraphs from here and there.
          
          .....
          
          I repeated the destination, landing perfectly in the same place and time...I recognised the surroundings immediately and it made me more comfortable with the idea that I could retrace my last visit without bumping into myself. Once again my senses were overwhelmed by the narrow, busy, and extremely noisy street. I inhaled waves of different smells, not all of them pleasant; and the heat instantly weighed me down like a heavy blanket. 
          
          At the very same moment, I felt Weirdo's hand tighten on mine, his grip crushing my fingers. Then the first explosive tremor hit him and I felt it run from the tips of his fingers up his arm. By the time I turned to look at him his entire body was trembling and he was breathing heavily; staring at me with wide, wild eyes. The poor sod looked like he was regretting his decision. His memory may have tricked him into thinking it wasn't that bad....but it was.
          
          "It's ok...just breathe and it will fade quickly, just keep looking at me...breathe." I slowly pushed him back into a narrow space between the buildings and rubbed his hands trying to get some normal feeling into them. "Keep looking at me....breathe." Weirdo started sliding down the wall but I held him up, pressing him back and forcing him to focus on me. His body shook violently and he dry-wrenched until he finally, very slowly, started to relax. His face had gone grey and his freckles stood out almost black against his skin
          
          People passed us and stared. I pushed both of us further down the narrow space and out of their line of vision. We were getting some queer looks, it's bad enough being foreigners but two men in what looked like an embrace was not acceptable behavior.
          
          "Are you OK?" Weirdo's eyes finally focused on my face and I stepped back. I moved back out onto the street and left him to pull himself together.

I'm off to bed, just posted Chapter 40.  Goodnight or good morning where ever are.