tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291937112011-07-29T15:56:18.145+10:00From my imagination to page to screen, here are sample stories of fiction written by... me. As in all takeaway stuff, comsume at your peril or leisure.Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.comBlogger241100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-77935141247690061412010-02-24T12:17:00.003+11:002010-02-24T12:38:26.468+11:00

In Other Worlds: a book of short stories.Huntress: World Council researcher Cambria Petersen is in a whole lot of trouble. Exiled to a jungle prison planet populated with rapists, terrorists and a psychopath or two by a corrupt Judicar, she has two choices: find a way home, or die trying. But to find justice for herself and others wrongly exiled, she must set aside civilisation and become the

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-28110668724336410452009-08-15T15:02:00.003+10:002009-08-15T15:10:41.149+10:00

“Lockdown.” A calm feminine voice intoned over the speakers. “Please, return to your cells for lockdown in five solar minutes. Thank you for your attention and have a nice day.”“I think it constitutes cruel and unusual punishment,” Lady Hakira, late of the Mystral Cluster’s Opposition Party, said in an aggrieved tone, “to expect inmates to ‘have a nice day’.”Kasen Pettigrew kept her eyes on her

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-22606224432320467892009-06-15T11:49:00.001+10:002009-06-15T11:56:06.899+10:00

“It doesn’t fit right.” Peterson fiddled with his squared, white mask, tried to adjust it over his eyes.“Don’t fidget.” His wife, Greta, grasped his hands and pulled them down. “Here, let me.” He accepted her help with a sigh, looked over the other invitees to this fancy dress ball. There were all manner of man and beast and he grinned as a tall, ethereal, female Monarch glided by dressed from

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-57454293340068447802009-04-01T11:48:00.000+11:002009-04-01T11:54:34.860+11:00

Jerrod smoothed his hair back, curled errant black strands behind his ears and grinned at himself in the mirror. “Today is the day you make head salesman.” He tilted his head, raised an eyebrow and tugged down his tight-fitting, short-waisted jacket. He held on to the hem with one hand and waved the other. “Allow me to show you the latest in the Hyunsford 300, madam. Turbo-charged, cerama-steel

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-63273415139150975572009-03-13T21:36:00.000+11:002009-03-13T21:37:58.814+11:00

His mother’s distant voice took on a stridency that made him wince. But, damn it, he nearly had it! Nearly… the slight distraction cost him.The two-tone bleat and Game Over flashing across the screen told him he wouldn’t be ‘getting’ it today. His narrow shoulders slumped and he gently placed the ‘joystick’ next to the ‘keyboard’ with a sigh. He shut the ‘computer’ down, covered it with the

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-71811155100401149642009-02-21T11:50:00.002+11:002009-02-21T12:25:27.725+11:00

“…And then I said, “Pal, you wouldn’t know a Xerxitis Scoliatus if you fell over it!” Loria roared with laughter; his companions merely smiled out of politeness.“Loria.” The companions cleared their throats, picked up their dinner plates and ambled away from the fire side. Loria turned, squinted up at the woman. “Wassup, CC?”Cordelia raised a black eyebrow and firmed her mouth. “I will tell you

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-45195818231043626742008-12-06T17:14:00.001+11:002008-12-06T17:15:54.775+11:00

Soul Keeper is ready for download off Scribd!It's too long to be posted here, so I posted it there.

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-85323298883570367662008-10-15T18:08:00.000+11:002008-10-15T18:09:10.390+11:00

“Holy crip! Look at this!” An awe-struck voice echoed down the tunnel.Chandra Martyn’s eyes shifted from the highly polished black rock wall in front of her to the man kneeling twenty metres away at the tunnel’s end. He bent over something as if in prayer.She could not leave her post to check on him. Her job meant standing guard, the emphasis on ‘standing’, not wandering around the diamond mine,

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-64387960887972509242008-09-24T15:08:00.001+10:002008-09-24T15:17:45.075+10:00

Okay, just a little something I threw together as a writing exercise: a story using cliches; can it be done and still make sense? You decide.* * *“Gird your loins, babe, it’s déjà vu all over again.” Michael murmured to his buxom girlfriend, Mary, and glanced meaningfully towards the door of the Last Chance Saloon.Mary affected to wipe her cheek on her shoulder and quickly looked at the door.

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-44771331134188093642008-09-03T15:57:00.002+10:002008-09-03T16:00:06.530+10:00

“Rath Khan, report to the flight deck; Rath Khan, report to the flight deck.”The voices in my head receded to quiet whispers, overwhelmed by Commander Grey’s strident demand.My eyelids lifted slowly. The stark, utilitarian cabin reminded me of my mission, but it was hard, so hard, to resist falling back into the comforting mental embrace of my brethren. I wasn’t ready to let them go and yet, we

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-2555531990681402992008-07-13T14:23:00.004+10:002008-07-13T14:26:47.858+10:00

Well, haven't I come to a screaming halt.And this should be a lesson to you young padwans: make notes before you nick off for a month so you can pick up where you left off.I've read through what I've written, and I think I know what my intention was. I'm back writing this, but it's hesitant, not the full speed ahead.I might have something up this week, either a continuation, or a completely

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-24775194615401518452008-04-24T13:52:00.000+10:002008-04-24T13:53:21.814+10:00

I stood a metre or so from the opened hatch. My heart pounded so loud in my ears, I thought the ‘Planters’ would sense the vibration. The bridge of a bounty hunter’s ship isn’t small and claustrophobic – long trips in isolation require room to move – but spacious enough to pace. I reached the bulkhead near the hatch in three easy strides. The first pirate, with fronds flared from its body

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-69760257140702196652008-04-16T17:24:00.000+10:002008-04-16T17:25:30.310+10:00

Agreebo: an alien planet not too close to the frontier that pirates and raiders would bother me and far enough from Sagan Security on Columbus to ease the tension making my shoulders and neck ache. I still burned with resentment and anger. Oh, and toss in frustration at how my life could go from triumph to down the crapper in such a short time. I thought about it, constantly, on the three

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-24046522713437339802008-04-09T16:37:00.001+10:002008-04-09T16:42:23.576+10:00

Strip? This… man wanted me to… strip? “Why?” I asked and he scowled. It turned his blunt features from disagreeable to plain ugly. “You don’t ask me questions! I ask you questions and you obey without hesitation! Do you get me, recruit?” I tried a smile. “There’s some misunder…” “You either get your clothes off now, or I’ll take ‘em off.” He growled and stepped closer. He was the

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-86220546963623487752008-04-02T16:47:00.001+11:002008-04-16T17:23:40.617+10:00

Remembered fear held me in place as Uncle Randall walked around me. He’d combed his black hair back from his broad forehead, his dark blue eyes sparkled and not a line nor wrinkle or ounce of fat showed for fifty-six years of perverted indulgence. He breathed in. “You smell so good, Rhianna, not the little girl anymore, but a fully developed playmate.” “Not yours.” I said. “Never yours

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-64898369530959965682008-03-26T15:58:00.002+11:002008-04-16T17:23:54.072+10:00

“I’m sorry, Ms Sagan, but we have no record of deposit. If you give me the information, I’ll check with the forwarding department.” I lifted my head, blinked. No… record? “Judiciary.” I whispered, then cleared my throat, and repeated it, louder. “Judiciary, Accounts.” I tried to think of the relevant information and babbled. “Rhianna Sagan versus Peero… um… bounties payable? Mission

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-61231524533548387482008-03-19T12:34:00.000+11:002008-04-16T17:24:07.454+10:00

I could stay, or I could run. The Judiciary’s accounting department had my bank details, had the details of all bounty hunters. Stay? Rahman’s threat hung in the air, paralysed me with indecision, which was his intention. “You won’t know when, or where, but you’re a dead woman. On planet or in space. Or even as you step outside this building…” Rahman’s words echoed in my head and I

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-43006828011823341902008-03-12T14:59:00.000+11:002008-04-16T17:24:07.455+10:00

The thought of my ex-lover stealing another bounty from me sent a surge of rage through my system. Yet what could I do? He had control of my navcom, had shifted my shuttle while I healed and without navigation, this far from civilisation… My fingers worked the control panel. How had he managed it? How had he known I was here, let alone on the planet? And how had he known I required medical

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-64821495034394941352008-03-05T14:20:00.002+11:002008-04-16T17:24:07.455+10:00

I heard the echoing ‘loo-loo-loo-loo’ of grief before I cleared the rock field. Peero did have a large family, and it sounded like every damn one of them had found his remains at the bottom of the cliff. Ullarians don’t ‘do’ revenge – unless they conclude a death as unjustified. My thinking was Peero’s family would assume the worst and come a’hunting. How? Because Peero had arranged for

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-1525290556831501012008-02-27T18:05:00.001+11:002008-02-27T18:07:35.238+11:00

The wind blew cold and dry against my skin, but I was beyond noticing the pinpricks of ice against my cheeks. I raised the binocks and studied the land around me. Here, in this desert, in this swirling, ever-moving landscape and on this planet, I would find my prey; though ‘prey’ infers a vulnerability Peero did not have. I am a hunter; a hunter of sentient creatures unable or unwilling

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-20099377892360955502008-02-14T16:32:00.002+11:002008-02-14T16:59:22.499+11:00

Sabra Parrish slowly pulled the gun from her leather holster as she glanced around the corner of the alley. The sound was subtle, even to her own ears, but her quarry had sharper hearing than hers. Bionic enhancements were available to anyone who could afford it. With her back to the grime-stained wall, she eased down into a crouch and risked another peek. There he was, but why was

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-41699159101706093312008-01-17T14:24:00.000+11:002008-01-17T14:26:06.978+11:00

“Where are you!” Keliban shouted. Thick mist muffled his voice, consumed by the greyness that surrounded him. He been a fool to give into this temptation, but the lure was too great: A chance to rid this world of the filthy mutants forever; to exterminate every nasty, vile, stinking one of them. How could he not try to fulfil the wishes of his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-23112335299878723492008-01-01T17:53:00.000+11:002008-01-01T18:05:17.513+11:00

Over at The blog, you'll find In Other Worlds. This is a compendium of some of the short stories from this blog, and three more stories.You'll also find the full Huntress as a download. I'm also posting the novella Daystrider, from PBW's E-Challenge.So you've got three freebies to read for the New Year.I'll post another story in a couple of weeks.

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29193711.post-1149312610605695002006-06-03T15:17:00.000+10:002006-06-03T16:37:40.840+10:00

Well, then... this is it.I said I would do it, and here it is.I've named this blog Jaye Patrick's Takeaway because that's what it is, a Takeaway; although I believe Americans call it a 'takeout'. Whatever. The point is the same.It is here that I'm going to post stories and, like a takeaway, some are good nibbles, some... not so good. But instead of running around, demanding your money back, these

Jayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12236939798677085250noreply@blogger.com0