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I think we can all agree that the last couple of years have been strange and scary. Two years after the scheduled date, I still haven't published "Blitzkrieg!". What could be stranger and scarier than that? I'm pretty sure I'll release it this year. After several years caged up, it's getting pretty angry. No, ugly angry. I'll be glad to see that back of the bastard. Preferably, as it mauls someone else.
I blame Alexei. Had he got his arse in gear and created the covers, Blitzkrieg would be gaily cavorting in a sunlit meadow. Rather than eating its own shit in a bed of filthy straw. Alexei had some pathetic excuse about needing to study. I never bothered when I was at university. Why should he?

Plague permitting, I've a few trips planned and a couple of others pencilled in. Corona is a real blessing to travellers. The internet had made travels far too simple. The virus adds a delightful randomness to the proceedings. Like planning a European tour in the summer of 1918.
Every time I book a flight I wonder: "What are the chance of me actually taking it?" Nothing is more thrilling than checking the internet until the second before you leave for the airport that the flight hasn't been cancelled. Or wondering if you'll be let out of the country once you reach your destination. I love the Phineas Fogg feeling the uncertainty brings.
Maybe I'll be your way pushing my latest book. Which may or may not be "Blitzkrieg!". More likely, I'll be in Thailand/Aruba/Tenerife/Malaga/Malta/Folkestone with Mikey pushing as much bacon and booze down my throat as I can physically manage.
Happy New Year!



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