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Cambrils

Cambrils is set on the coast between Hospitalet d’la Infant and Salou. The coastal road passes through Cambrils flanked on one side by a marina and bar/restaurants on the other. It may only be for a short distance but at this time of the year it is heaving. After the terrorist attack in Barcelona and then the 5 terrorists all wearing bomb vests being shot dead in Cambrils, plus having friends living there we decided to visit and see everyone was ok, Boy what a miskaea to makea.

Explanation

We are often driving through here during the winter stopping off at a little bar in one of the plazas behind the sea front. But last winter we discovered that the bar is closed on Sundays, why? well our theory is that when we went for coffee Valencia was often playing football and they would lose, and when they found out that we were at the bar on those days they asked the bar to close and Valencia began to win. Thing is Valencia are not Barca or Spurs you see…. but I digress.

Cambrils Spirit

                                          

Because this is holiday time and parking is always difficult I decided to approach Cambrils from the Tarragona side. I was right about doing this all the car parks were full, cars were parked on cars in some places, even parked well back from the lovely sandy beaches, all this helped to give out a feeling of safety. As always the police were in full view even some on bikes, this was not a town cowering this was humanity at its best. However, more importantly our friends were safe, luckily none of their families had been injured. People were very shaken but the spirit of Cambrils was not broken.

So we left them to enjoy the sun and headed back to town for a meal in Bar Turo which we haven’t done for a long time. Sitting there reminded me that we needed to sit outside with a pizza and good wine whilst watching the world pass by. Yep normality has returned.

(c) Michael Douglas Bosc – Author

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I have not often been asked why I write about sex, but this week a lady asked me why I wrote for Lesbians.  To say I was a little taken aback was an understatement, so I asked for an explanation.  It seems that after reading A Caring Killer she came to the conclusion that I write from the female to female point of view. Although I personally would say I write from a Bisexual point of view. Now it has never been my intention to write for one gender or another. I write because I like writing and being a normal male I also like sex. I feel that there has been a taboo on this subject for far to long. Plus I find that unless it is cruel or in your face, for some reason people do not find reading about it interesting.

I try to write with passion and a feeling of love. Here is a brief resume of both Jason Watson and Stanley Saunders two very different people living in very different times but with one link sex!

” Jason’s story begins in the late 1700’s relating of his adventures both in the Royal Navy of the day and ashore in Jamaica, where, because of his sex drive, he has some amorous adventures.  Jamaica in that time accepted having a mistress and a wife as normal, but it could and does get a little complicated when Jason’s women get together.  But running through all this is a love story, deep and open with a care for his wife that today could seem strange.  This love encompasses all aspects of married life including her relationship with his mistress who becomes her friend and lover, not to mention his affair with her sister.  History tells that the social acceptability that ensued in the Jamaica of the 1700’s, was not acceptable in Bath or London. It was quite acceptable for Jason to have a mistress or two but not for his wife.  In A Bengal Poppy I followed Jason’s activities in England via the Europe to China, where war, drugs and as always sex played a great part.

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Then there is Stanley:  Born to a single mother just before the war, she brings him to London where she takes to the streets to provide a home and food for them both.  When war comes she is recruited by the government however when she is no longer wanted, she again turns to the streets.  Here she meets and mingles with gangs, villans and other low life of London’s East end.  But Diane is a very resourceful woman. She saves hard eventually buying a home for her and her precious son. Stanley’s mother loves her son and he loves his mother who has provided for him and protected him, he loves her enough to kill for her – and does.  So begins his career first protecting her, then doing ‘odd jobs’ for various gangs finally becoming a skilled assassin. Through it all runs the love story of Stanley and Gillian who were school sweethearts.  Again the women turn to each other for comfort and relationships develop, but there is always Stanley getting his fair share of the action”

I asked her what she thought of the story line and the book in general. “It was fine. Fast paced, plenty of action, sex and intrigue. It showed me an insight into peoples attitudes towards lesbian relationships and politics, nothing changes does it. The action really worked and the sex was well written, not blatant just normal. – did Canada really happen like that? did you know Stanley well? – yes Michael I liked the book, now I shall have to read A Loving Son then A Fathers Kill to find out what happened.”

Telling life as it was for some people in the East end of London and not hiding its warts or scars, is a story of survival. Making things ‘pretty’ just to please the public is not good, life was often very un-pretty for Diane and Stanley. Along with rationing and making ends meet, went the seamy side of their lives. Prostitution, gangs, racketeers, corrupt police, murder and general mayhem. It was a dog eat dog world for some and to survive they did what they had to do.

Diane was no angle, she was manipulating, calculating and basically deadly. She adored Stanley but could control him as she wanted. The fact that she looked after her ‘girls’ was the one good point in her favour. She made sure they were clean, kept their bodies and general appearance in good order and spoke well. Afterall they were high-class ‘escorts’ and brought in the money, along with useful information. When the time came she also knew how to handle Rupert the ‘Man From The Government’ when he ’employed’ Stanley, and her marriage gave Reg promotion.

I suppose looking at the stories again, they are written from a womans sexual point of view. After all the girls like each others company and enjoy each others bodies. So yes if you look at it like that, I suppose it is written as a Lesbian sex novel. But on the other hand from a male point of view, Stanley has his sexy and attractive partner, then there is Gillian. So along with the adventure and action he has what he wants or has he?????

All my books are out on Kindle.

(c) Michael Douglas Bosc

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I was tagged by Kiersten Rowland  http://www.kierstenrowland.com/2012/10/the-next-big-thing/ and asked if I would like to take part in a blog spot.  Up for most things I said yes then I saw the Huskies. Ah dogs thought I, well  although I do not own a dog now I am a dog lover so here is my dogie history:

As I said I am not a dog owner now, but for 30 years in two bouts of 15 we had a dog.  Jason was first, he was a labrador greyhound cross a fit as a flea and could smell a bitch on heat miles away, needless to say there were quite a few baby Jason’s. Mad as they came but he guarded the children well, so many happy memories of him that still make us cry with laughter just as they did then, it was really heartbreaking when he died.  We did not have another dog for a few years untill my wife rescued a ‘gone wrong’ bearded collie.  Dodgy (so named because of the following) was the size of a miniature collie, with a short smooth coat that curled when it rained,  foxy face, a lions mane of fur round his neck, curly tail, 4 spindly little legs, slightly curved spine and a dicky ticker.  But HE thought he was a Lion, came sailing with us, totally different to Jason but just as many funny memories, boy could he sulk.  Again it was such a loss when he died we will not have another dog it’s too painful when they go.   That’s my story of my dogs here are my answers:

What is the working title of your book?

A Loving Son

Where did the idea come from for the story?

It just came to me.  I had finished writing A Soldiers Wind and the story just came. Totally different to Jason’s (yep I did!) adventures, but still on an adult theme this time with love surrounded by murder and mayhem.

What genre does your story fall under?

Adult  romantic thriller.

Which actors/actresses would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I thought Russell Tovey for Stanley, he looks innocent but can be cold, calculating and ruthless.  Carey Mulligan for Gillian and Helena Bonham Carter for Stanley’s mother, in the book these women are stunners but can be as ruthless as Stanley.  Two beautiful tallented actresses and one fresh-faced tallented actor.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book ?

In the East-end of London after the war, attitudes and acceptances that no longer exist were prevalent, all things were possible, even murder.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

It was self-published at first but badly. I have placed both the books on Kindle they have re-done, the good news is I now have an editor with a proper publisher interested in publishing them in paperback.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your story?

Around 6 months.

What other stories would you compare this article to within your genre?

Not 50 Shades of Grey, this has a love story in there.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

I read an article in a Sunday paper written by a woman reviewer, who stated that although there was adventure there was not enough sex. So I thought why not give it a go.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

In the book I have written about life as it was at that time.  London was a hot spot of corrupt police, criminals, society, with murder an answer to most problems.  There are a lot of bodies holding up bridges etc., that’s a fact.  During these times and before the act came in stating that children of different sexes should have separate beds and rooms it was not unusual for several people to occupy one bed.  A peek back in time at attitudes is not only revealing but enlightening, things we frown on now were common place.  There are events too which I have put forward suggestions on the truth.  Obviously I will not say which ones,  when the books come out you will see, however I am ready for the Men In Black….

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This is my big medical visit, when I have my blood test and check up so I use it to visit the family.  We drove up to London to see my sister going round the M25 then into London via the Blackwall Tunnel.  As we came out of the tunnel and headed towards Leyton the olympic site could be seen on the right hand side.

They are getting on with the building very well, even if the sculpture is a bit bazar looking at the moment, with lots of red steel and what looks like the start of three viewing platforms.  So the next morning when my sister mentioned the Westfield Shopping Mall, the biggest in Europe,  I suggested to the delight of my wife that we took a look, I did not expect what I found.

As a boy growing up around this area places I knew had disappeared to be replaced with a new housing development for the athletes, and very smart they look too, a sort of modern ‘White City’ only 100 yrs on.  These flats are white, modern and look well designed.

There is also a brand new Stratford station which brings the Euro Train into the site and East London, so there is easy access for trips to France, which will no doubt bring in plenty of visitors.

The car park was reached via a spiral ramp which took us to the first level parking with spectacular views of the athletes flats. There is a ‘wall’ of safety meshing round each level but your view is not obscured.  On the floor you will find a ‘path’ marked in pink which takes you to one of the two exits down to the shops.

Two escalators later we found ourselves in the mall.  It is bright, spacious and packed with lots of shops and three floors high.  There are seats scattered around for those who are pooped from shopping to sit, or bars of all types, food, champagne, sushi, tapas, with an icecream bar where the icecream is shaped like a rose, and plenty of coffee bars.

We wandered off towards John Lewis which is at one end of that level, camera in hand (well in my wifes hands) taking pictures. In John Lewis we discovered they have a viewing platform, well it is an area where you have a clear view of the olympic site and the ‘Gherkin’ through large clear windows, plus seats for those who just want to sit, stare and take it all in.   The store was being decked out for Christmas with displays dotted here and there.

My sister and I went to have a coffee whilst my wife went off to take a few pictures of the shops and an exhibition of skateboarding.  Then  she joined us for her coffee, after which we went down to the next level and Primart.  This is one of her favourite shops, shopping done she went to que up, my sister and I thought, from the length of the que, that we were in for a long wait, but this branch had it all worked out, fifteen tills, all open and working the que fairly flew along.

Then back up to the top-level where we wandered back the way we came, and headed home.  We had been around 3 hrs and no, we had not covered all of it.  There were so many things to see, so many walkways to go down it was impossible in the time we had to cover more than we did.  But if you are in London take a day and go see, it really is well worth the visit.

And Lewis?

Oh yes if you do go, you will probably meet PC Lewis and his WPC partner to whom I must apologise for not getting her name, and say a big thank you for letting my wife take their picture and being so polite.

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Buy My Books.

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Michael Douglas Bosc has produced another page turning novel that is now available in bothprint format and on Kindle. Those of you who have read his first historic naval novel filled with adventures of Jason and laced with his romantic encounters when on shore leave, A Soldiers Wind, and enjoyed his very own unique dialogue style, will equally drink in his words in this new one.  This is not a sequal to A Soldiers Wind (though he is beavouring away on that). No oh no, this is a far cry from the historic Caribbean waters and this story unfolds in a totally different vein.
 
The thriller is placed in the East end of London shortly after World War 2. A Loving Son echoes back to his earlier life being raised up in East London after the war. In thoses days that part of London went hand in hand with the murky world of criminals of the era and all that it engulfed. Michael now writes from his small olive finca set in the middle of the forest in the mountains of Catalonia, between Mora d’Ebro and Flix.
 
Diane, a single parent, a lady of the night, but a doting and loving mother to Stanley. Her career choice is more by circumstances than by design. It is her only short-coming, but she has a son to raise against economics and post-war food shortages.  But she never falters in her devotion to her Stanley, and he in turn is very close to his mother. I mean who else has he got? “They had lived through the London blitz looking out for each other, sharing a bed not only for warmth but comfort.”
 
Yet Diane had her head screwed on (pardon the pun) the right way. Once all the household bills and food had been paid for, she saved hard and squirreled away all their spare cash. This forward thinking enabled her to buy a house, but rented out the upstairs and frugally they lived on the lower floor.
 
Yet Stanley survived in this seamy world of gangsters, thieves and down right villans. Stanley takes up with an old classmate Gillian and they soon become inseparable. Diane’s business is blooming and she sets up a sideline as a new escort agency with services. Things go pear shaped when Gillian is raped.
 
Things suddenly change when he comes home to find his mother being beaten by a punter. Not any old punter, one of East ends most dreaded and feard powerful gangster. Stanley tries to intervene but he is punching way above his league and is knocked out cold. This is the turning point in Stanley’s life when he decides he needs a gun for their protection. Whatever Stanley decides to do, he does it to his fullest capability. He does not falter once his mind is made up. A slippery slope ensues. He first becomes a killer. Then Stanley who thinks an awful lot and plans his moves carefully, becomes a very successful assassin.
 
Stanley’s education is helped along by Reg an Inspector in the Met, an old flame of Diane, who has recently hooked up with her again.
 
The story telling is excellent in this psychological thriller. You are never quite sure where the tale is leading and just when you think you’ve figured it all out there is a subtle twist.
 
This is a thriller that will be enjoyed by men and women alike and would make an awsome television series.
 

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 If Stanley were real he would now be in his 80’s, and probably unhappy about not being able to `work’. So when he came to ask why I have not finished telling his story, I had to admit that although the last book has been started people did not seem interested in his story, as it did not contain werewolves, vampires, ghosts, etc., or modern technology and police work;  just sex, gangs, murder and mayhem, in other words good old-fashioned crime.  All the things that were actually happening in London after WW2. The things people did to survive and make money. 

It was not all Mills and Bloom, it was more rackets, murder, gangs and bent coppers (police).  West-end Central was the most notorious police station going. Coppers on the make and take, turning and looking the other way unless things got too bad then grabbing someone to show they were doing something.  There was the odd government agency operating, nothing like Jame Bond, more like removal men, assisting others or their own governments when needed. Well-trained and ruthless killers, assassins if you prefer, but killers all the same.  As Stanley said it was a job, it had to be done and he was paid well, and governments interfering in other countries is no newer than back scratching.  I had to agree with this statement.

Anyway I digress. Stanley is somewhat at a loss as to why the story of a boy’s love for his mum and his protection of her does not appeal, after all it is normal, isn’t it? As for the Escort Agency nothing wrong there and the girls were beautiful, healthy and well looked after.  His reputation saw to that.

So I have told Stanley that the second book is being proofread, and I will be back with him and the others soon.   He did agree about one thing though, Russell is the right choice.

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I had been promising my wife we would take a trip to the Delta to try for some photographs of birds and other things for a story I’m writing. So when we woke and found that although very windy the sun was shining and it was warm we decided to go. On the way we passed through an avenue of  Beech trees, it is, in my opinion, a typical continental thing. When they are in leaf  it looks very pretty.  We should have had a warning of what was to come as there were bits of tree’s in the road.  Further on as we neared one of the roundabouts the police were directing all the lorries into a side parking area, ah we thought they are doing a road inspection wrong…  Approaching  the road to go round Amposta, we found the traffic slowing, police and workmen were by the bridge that crosses it and there at the side of the road was the direction sign from the bridge – wind had blown it over the safety rail and down onto the road. 

Avenue of Beech Trees

The drive down there is pleasant. You follow the river Ebro to Tortosa, then on through some of the rice-growing finca’s untill turning right on to the road round Amposta. After this you travel the N340 to St Carles de la Rapita. This is a pleasant little seaside town with a marina, good beaches and some nice restaurants and bars.  We have a favourite Tapas bar and beach bar. So looking for a coffee we headed first to the beach bar which was shut and had also had some slight wind damage. So after watching the men cutting up the tree that had been blown over, we turned and headed along the water front to the Tapas bar, passing the marina and its occupants.

Go Find Your Own Bar

 

At the bar we had Patatas Bravas, Calamari Romanos, sausage’s, spiced and prawns.  Then we drove out to the Delta and the sea. The route we took was an arc, taking pictures as we went.  Driving along we saw the tractor that is used to plough the rice fields a strange contraption, a sort of military vehicle with slatted  wheels. But it travels over the paddy fields with no problem unlike a normal tractor which would soon get bogged down.  

Rice Tractor

My wife spent a lot of time trying to get a close up of a Marsh Harrier much to our glee it proved to be a real task.  When she crept towards it waited until she was close enough to get a good shot then took off, again and again.  She did get a few distance ones but not close up.

Marsh Harrier

 

We then came across  this water-mill. Instead of a windmill with sails to pump the water these are in the form of an Archimedes Screw, which pumps the water round the water beds and ditches.  With the little house painted white,  they are both cared for and in working order. It sits on the bank near to an observation hide where you can watch the various birds on the marshes.

Archimedes Screw

The wild life was fascinating.  The shots of waders, flamingos, ducks, heron and seagull were taken from the viewing hut. Several more were taken as we drove back towards the main road, so all in all it was a success.  I even managed to get a shot of the long-horned cattle that graze there.

You Really Wanted a Seagull

 

 All in all it was a pleasant if windy day.  The Sun was out it was warm 17c and relaxing. So when we reached the N340 we found the wind had picked up a little.  Well, that was an understatement, it had picked up a lot and we had not gone far when approaching a bridge saw just how much.  There on their side were two lorries, a small one and an articulated one. The articulated lorry was on the barrier of the bridge with its window screen smashed from the outside so I suppose they had to get the driver out that way.  I really hope he was ok.  We finished the journey on the flat using the El Perello pass, seeing all the windmills feathered against the wind.   

This brought home just how powerful nature is.

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