Craig P. Miller - Tall Tales

  KNOCK AT THE DOOR by Craig P. Miller Kyle Nathaniel Ock III stood at his station and held his breath for a second or two to avoid the olfactory tang left by the departing Pilgrims, ozone and ... something else. Angelina says it smells like bacon, whatever that is. He shuddered. Kyle could trust her. The way she looked at him; those ravenous eyes, sent waves of nausea through him. He shuddered again. Another hungry woman. I know what you're after. You want a little boy, a little boy to have and to hold, a little boy all your own. But it never works that way, well, hardly ever, not anymore. You just get girls ... mostly. The odds were shockingly slim. The last published estimates were two hundred and fifty to one and rising. But the steep odds did not deter those hungry women. Eight billion hungry women, all of them aching for a little boy of their own. Kyle swallowed nervously and tried to focus on the task at hand. He took a hesitant breath, sampling the air for that sm...

Another 'Tall Tale' I hope you enjoy. It is the inspiration for a longer work sitting patiently on the peg. GOING RELATIVE by  Craig P Miller Going Relative excited Kendrik Van Laar more than any other part of space travel. All the other facets of interplanetary travel were potentially filled with tedium.  Getting into orbit was a bore even if the view was spectacular. He was surprised just how quickly the awesome curved expanse of Earth's sweet blue atmosphere became just a backdrop as the rail car climbed The Beanstalk from Singapore to Clarke Station high in geo-stationary orbit. Climbing The Beanstalk may have been the most efficient method of getting into orbit but it still took most of a day to travel the thirty-six thousand kilometres into orbit. The coaches were comfortable if well used. Kendrik had taken this trip many times and was well prepared. He always had something to read. Flying the expanse of interplanetary space was ...

Just a quick note updating  the Print On Demand editions of 'Patty's Flight' and 'Patty's War'. I am expecting proof copies for 'Patty's War' to land very soon. I made a few corrections to 'Patty's Flight' and have resubmitted. I expect to be able to order proof copies this weekend. Stay Safe. :-)

An Announcement It is with great pleasure and more than a little humility and trepidation I can announce the publication of 'Patty's Flight' and 'Patty's War'. De Vinci said, apparently, 'Art is never finished, only abandoned'. While I'm not declaring my work as 'art', it was very difficult to 'finish' the piece and publish it. Patty's Flight Patty's War I am pleased with how the story unfolded - though it took me considerable time before I actually 'found' the part of the story that was missing. I hope you enjoy them.

I'm getting quite excited about finishing 'Patty's Flight' & 'Patty's War'. After working so long on the project it is almost a shock to discover that the writing is complete - or as complete as I can currently make it. :-)   Thanks Tina Shaw for all your hard work too. Dean Reynolds   has been working hard - when he has time - on the covers and has done  - is doing - a great job. Mock up of 'Party's Flight' cover Mock up of 'Patty's War' cover.  Still not quite sure if I should be just 'Craig Miller' or 'Craig P. Miller'. And I think I need a teasing tagline for 'Patty's Flight'. 'Adventure in the High Frontier' ?  'A clean pair of heels can only take you so far.' 'Only Murphy's Law can stop her.' 'In a crisis, family comes first - even if it is your annoying kid brother.' 'In space, all you can hear is your annoying kid b...

This tale is called 'JOINT INQUISITION INTO SMALL MIRACLES' and was inspired by this image: JOINT INQUISITION INTO SMALL MIRACLES RE: OLOG-2054791 by Craig P. Miller Cardinal Saul Boniface, emissary from the Holy Father and Inquisitor of the Light, sweated under his blonde wig and the green and blue Mexican wrestler's mask. Standing for an hour outside in the raging sun did not help either, waiting in a queue with hundreds of others, hoping to witness a miracle. He stank; his sweat mingled with road dirt, dog, and all the rustic aromas that peasants brought with them, but he was sure no one in this roach-infested fleapit of a restaurant would notice, except for Grand Vizier Hamza Hakim, standing beside him. The sharp-eyed inquisitor from the Nacitav, the Black Vatican, would know. Nothing escaped his powers of observation. Grand Vizier Hakim seemed to be enjoying the festival atmosphere, laughing and joking with those around them. Saul felt his gut clench. Work...