The wonders of modern teknurlur-gee

Well, thanks to the purchase of a new netbook (think mini-laptop that won’t scorch a hole in your thighs) and the drudgery of a public transport commute, I have several thousand more words added to the coal-fired noir. It is a scene straight out of a Conan-Doyle story – hurried wedding at a church with only press-ganged bystanders as witnesses, and a corrupt minister. At least, until the point where the evil-doer intervenes, the minister gets an overdose of iron and the groom gets a 45 calibre headache.

Heh heh.

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