FL13 - Page 66

Made in England
in weeks, but I had no action until ten
minutes after my early morning
recast. I thought that might herald a
bit of action, especially as the sun
came out and warmed the area nicely,
but it was not to be, and I spent the
day photographing some quarrelling
squirrels, chatting with and being
chatted at by Joe, and listening to
England perform appallingly against
Ukraine. Oh well, down to earth we
As the autumn takes hold, and the
countryside begins to look gorgeous,
I’m hoping to get some decent
angling in, especially as the book is
now complete, but carp shows loom
large, both here and abroad, and I can
see a winter of few opportunities on
the horizon. Talking of carp shows,
the book is being launched at the
Carp Society Show at Sandown at the
end of November, so come along and
grab a copy and I’ll willingly sign it for
you. If you can’t make it, tell your missus what an ideal Christmas present
it would be for you, and that she can
either get it on the website, or look
out for it at a few tackle shops around
the country – simples! Nice cover as
(Top) Bitemark, worthy of a book not
another spirit level.
(Below) A torpedo like stunner for Ed
well; we’re doing a few prints of that,
and the Myth as well – yet another
ideal present.
Here’s your final little taster…
A Burmese jungle. Hot, humid, alive
with sound. Rivulets of sweat running down his back, his shirt clinging
to him like a second, oversized skin.
Eyes stinging, limbs aching. The
rifle in his hands growing heavier by
the second. One step, move ferns
aside. Another step, move ferns,
check Taf is still behind you.
Movement ahead. Stop dead, fist in
the air, no talking.
Ahead, to the right, thirty yards. He
motions with his hand, slowly forward, be aware.
‘Tak! Tak! Tak!’
Gunfire from ahead, bark splinters
flying as bullets hit wood.
Down on the ground, all sensory


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