A Tissue Of Webs is now at Shoots&Vineshttp://www.shootsandvines.com/?p=885″>http://www.shootsandvines.com/?p=885
My story A Tissue Of Webs is part of my guest blog at The Tainted Archive “>http://tainted-archive.blogspot.com/2009/05/wild-west-monday-guest-paul-d-brazil.htmlLink
The Crunch is at Flashshots today. “>Link
I’m very, very pleased to have had another mention at The Rap Sheet
In the most recent Bullet Points: ‘• Is it my imagination, or is short-story writer Paul D. Brazill suddenly all over the place? He has a new story posted at A Twist of Noir (“Bingo Master’s Breakout”) and Cullen Gallagher voices high praise for his tale “This Old House,” which appeared earlier this month at Thrillers, Killers ’n’ Chillers.’
Well chuffed, I am!
Bingo Master’s Breakout (at A Twist Of Noir 27 April 2009.)
‘This Old House’ is one of Cullen Gallagher’s Stories For Sunday at Pulp Serenade
This Old House ( at Thrillers,Killers n Chillers Saturday 18 April 2009)
The Man Behind The Curtain (published at A Twist Of Noir 059, 29 March 2009)
Stamp Of A Vamp (Published at Powder Burn Flash #169, 25 March 2009)
Sins Of The Father(published at A Twist Of Noir 058,22 March 2009)
I was given this award by David Cranmer:
Here are the rules:
You must include the person that gave you the award, and link it back to them.
You must list 5 of your Fabulous Addictions in the post. You must copy and paste these rules in the post.
4. bad jokes
5. bad ideas
and the blogs:
Pulp Serenade http://pulpserenade.blogspot.com/
The always honest Geoff ‘mafia wars’ Eighinger http://easternstandardcrime.blogspot.com/
The Educated Pulp Writer David Cranmer http://davidcranmer.blogspot.com/
The Oracle Sandra Seamans: http://sandraseamans.blogspot.com/
It’s Cormac’s world. We just live in it…http://cormacwrites.blogspot.com
Castles In The Air(Published at Powder Burn Flash #163, 9 March 2009)
Castles In The Air
by Paul Brazill
Whenever I see a castle -perhaps a picture in a travel magazine or in one of those Universal horror films from the 1930’s -for some reason I have one of those Proustian flashbacks to when I was a young child and I went with my sister to visit my brother-in-law in Durham prison.
I fade in on a silhouette of the prison; perched on a hill, looming over the city like a great black bat and I taste the cold, metallic morning air. This then imperceptibly segues into my brother-in-law’s spidery black quiff, the tattoos on his hands and face and the brown blanket- looking prison uniform that made me feel itchy.
Then, I fade out and fade back in on a pool of vomit, which I’m sure is mine, on the floor of the rattling gray train and then I fade to black. Now, all that remains is the song that corkscrewed through my thoughts like a mantra as I went to visit, what I believed was, the Pink Panther’s home town.
Dur-ham Dur-ham, Dur-ham Dur-ham Dur-ham, Dur-ham Dur-haaaam, Dur-ham Dur-ham.