Rigby Taylor

Those grannies are tough old birds - ex-cop and welfare worker... Frankie's pragmatic, but...

A pickle - love it. Crafty or crazy... but don't you think the there might be something in the philosophy of refusing to think?

You're a 'speed-reader'. I don't think they're as crazy as they seem - at least they worked out how to get hold of the insurance from Frankie's parents.

Virtue’s parents took the news of their daughter’s demise with such serenity the police figured they were either deaf or demented. They were neither. Her father, ex Police Sergeant Fey, had recently been granted permanent compassionate leave on a minimum pension, due to stress-related mental breakdown. The increase in violent crime over the preceding dozen or more years caused by political refusal to reduce incarceration rates by providing adequate housing, employment, health and education servi

And thank you for commenting to positively. My style is sometimes a little too 'dense' I've been told, but I dislike 'wordiness'. Although the subtopics are occasionally 'dark' I try to keep the overall tone light and even amusing sometimes - at least to me it's amusing. And my heroes don't die.

If you've been following the Royal commission into the Banking Industry, you'll know they've even been fiddling with children's savings accounts to earn bonuses.... what a sick bunch - and they rule the country! All governments do what the banks want - everywhere because they believe 'The Economy' is the only important thing.

Thank you - Yes people like Virtue and Simon tend to clutter stories so they're better out of the way - as for the insurance, I like the way you think.

What happened to Simon is what the banks have been doing here to people - so I wanted to comment. Also I had to find a way for Frankie to go and live with Ingenio. Yeah it is sort of sad, but they didn't suffer long.

Fifteen years later, thirty-year-old Virtue was more attractive than ever. Although still not the sharpest knife in the drawer, she became an excellent cook, a competent hostess and therefore a possession of which her husband could be proud and his friends envious. A natural organiser, she kept the house immaculate yet pleasant. Delighted that she was not required to go to work, she used her free time to keep fit, involve herself in ‘good deeds’ and enjoy the life of a social butterfly. The

He's helpful - you can't be both wise and accommodating. Isn't trouble always brewing?

Just start writing - that's all it takes; once you've started, your brain just takes over. Get it written on your computer then put it away for a few days, and then read it as if you've never seen it before, and all the things that could be improved will leap out at you. And then the fun part starts when you re-arrange bits of text to make it clearer or more amusing, use your thesaurus to choose slightly different or slightly different words that express your intentions better... editing is the most interesting part for me to make it read exactly as I want. It's seldom a good idea to leap into publication too soon.

Fifteen years earlier, Virtue’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Fey, considered themselves fortunate in their two children; both Virtue and Ingenio were healthy and attractive, neither were rebellious, and both wanted to please. No easy task with parents who expected their offspring to reject earthly delights in favour of spiritual development. Virtue Fey, however, also wanted to live in the same real, physically exciting world as her friends, not sit around nurturing her spirit with meditation and se

I'm very pleased you mentioned Ingenio, he is sort of pivotal - as you will discover next chapter. It's interesting that you mention him and not Frankie, thanks for commenting.

Ah! Canuk. That was me you described. Be the pupil they wanted and you're left alone to do as you like. I was the only student in my final year at Grammar who had never been caned, although I was no better than the others who were unable to dissimulate. I hope to maintain your interest...Thanks for commenting.

I can't delete comments apparently, so it has to sit like this. {I'd written the same one twice]

Thanks Okiegrad... I hope you will remain intrigued.

Yes, Dear Flora. I think many gay boys had a Flora somewhere in their lives, Not being interested in girls sexually, we can talk and socialise with them when str8 guys would feel it would ruin their image. Thanks for commenting.

Hey Wesley! I thought I told you to read slowly! Yeah, he's not a bad kid - gets better as he gets older. Nice you're here.

Unlike his peers at St Puritan’s High School, fifteen year-old Frankie was addicted to observing things to discover how they are made and function, so he could understand why they aren’t more efficient, more rational, more… sensible. Having endured a somewhat late onset of puberty, he had lately been making up for lost time by conducting experiments and observations in the field of sex and sexuality. Recent investigation into the aesthetics and mechanics of same-sex coupling with a classmate had

Frankie approaches life head on with a logical brain and healthy contempt for everyone not as smart as him, so his life isn't straightforward. After coping with a family death, abduction, theatrical success, evil property developers, gender-equality fanatics, con-men and women… a trip to a Himalayan monastery goes very, very wrong. Worse, the young men he meets are not what they seem. But Frankie enjoys his life and never complains - a true hero, strong, honest, decent, clear-thinking and not too bad looking, so surely one of the young men he befriends will turn out to be his equal?

And thank you, Palantir [what a wondrous name] for that very fine compliment. Have you read the story of Sebastian's early life in "Sebastian"? You might also enjoy that.

Thanks Skyacer - my education will continue.

OK! OK! I googled Loni Mitchell and listened to her songs and am very impressed with her sweet voice, and even more impressed by her diction!!! I could understand every word. That is so unusual. I am pleased Saskatoon is renaming a river promenade in her name - she has a presence and voice that invites sympathy and she seems totally genuine. Thanks Skyacer and Canuk for aiding my musical education. I enjoyed very much the harmony in the song 'I Still miss someone', a duet with Johnny Cash. Is this OK? Can I go home now?

Ah, yes - I do come across as a bit of a misogynous prick - I'm not, actually. In fact I frequently prefer female company to men, in that often they're easier and more fun to talk to and seem to be less rigid in their outlook than men. And of course there's always an element of flirting which is fun. I think my fiction females are a reaction to the prevailing current notion that females are sacrosanct - they can do no wrong; the man is always wrong. I was at an impressionable age when the "All men are rapists" campaign destroyed so many men's pleasure in their children - and continues to do so. According to all mainstream media, family violence is 100% the result of male aggression, and only males are aggressive in relationships. Women are always the victims - never the males. Men are publicly forced to apologise for their actions and are never ever asked why? Why did you react violently? Because the message is plain - no matter what a woman does, the man must never lose his temper and act naturally. No woman is ever required to take responsibility for her behaviour. And don't get me started on the imbalance in divorce proceedings and child custody. This flying in the face of statistics and nature annoys me, so I've taken real examples from reading about these things, and used them as the basis for my unpleasant females in an effort to redress the balance. Just as I thought it was time to have a clean, healthy, brave hero who was gay, as a counter to the age-old stereotype of the butch heterosexual - and that was the main reason I started writing novels. Oh dear... have I read too much into your innocent comment? Sorry. Thanks for reading. R.

Three local businesses were competing to get the new French electrical goods franchise, so after bending the agent’s ear on Thursday afternoon, Richard invited him home for dinner, figuring it could only help the fellow make the right decision. Mum was annoyed at having such short notice to prepare a gourmet meal, but after shaking hands with the charming young god who introduced himself as Loic, she was all smiles. We were expecting someone middle-aged, not a slim, perfectly proportioned twenty