Category Archives: books

Death in Portugal

A number of things about trophy hunting strike me as evil, but as an author, I can make sure someone does. That someone is Alex Peters.

Alex Peters had loved animals her whole life. When her friends expressed their sadness that no one was hunting the hunters of animals, she decided to rectify the situation. She was the ideal candidate. In her normal job, as a soldier behind enemy lines, she’d killed animal abusers when given the chance and the animals were given some respite from their ordeals.

Now she was not undercover. She was on holiday, travelling on the trains in Spain and Portugal.

There were no colleagues to back her up. She would have to take risks.

She doesn’t keep a diary of the deaths, but does like to write about the history of the places she has visited. This makes her seem like a normal human being – even when she isn’t.

Between 23rd January and 31st January, the book is available at a discount here 

Death in Spain

A number of things about trophy hunting strike me as evil and it’s time someone did something.  As an author, I can make sure someone does.

That someone is Alex Peters.

Alex Peters had loved animals her whole life. When her friends expressed their sadness that no one was hunting the hunters of animals, she decided to rectify the situation. She was the ideal candidate. In her normal job, as a soldier behind enemy lines, she’d killed animal abusers when given the chance and the animals were given some respite from their ordeals.

Now she was not undercover. She was on holiday, travelling on the trains in Spain and Portugal.

There were no colleagues to back her up. She would have to take risks.

She doesn’t keep a diary of the deaths, but does like to write about the history of the places she has visited. This makes her seem like a normal human being – even when she isn’t.

Between 23rd January and 31st January, the book is available at a discount here 

Hunted

A number of things about trophy hunting strike me as evil such as the hunters display the results of their hunting for the world to see.

It’s time someone did something.
As an author, I can make sure someone does. That someone is Alex Peters.

Alex Peters had loved animals her whole life. When her friends expressed their sadness that no one was hunting the hunters of animals, she decided to rectify the situation. She was the ideal candidate. In her normal job, as a soldier behind enemy lines, she’d killed animal abusers when given the chance and the animals were given some respite from their ordeals.

Now she was not undercover. She was on holiday, travelling on the trains in Spain and Portugal.

There were no colleagues to back her up. She would have to take risks.

She doesn’t keep a diary of the deaths, but does like to write about the history of the places she has visited. This makes her seem like a normal human being – even when she isn’t.

Between 23rd January and 31st January, the book is available at a discount here 

She’s Coming For You – Chapter 2

Most people associate Pamplona with the Running of the Bulls – El Encierro in Spanish, part of the Festival of St Fermin which lasts from noon, 6th July to midnight, 14th July. The Bull Running takes place at 8 am each day from 7th July to 14th July and was first brought to worldwide attention by Ernest Hemingway’s novel, The Sun Also Rises.

 

Four rockets inform the crowd what’s happening with the bulls. They set off the first rocket at 8 a.m. to alert the runners that the gate to the bull’s corral is open. The runners can now run, though if you get too far ahead of the bulls, the spectators will boo you, especially if you reach the bullring without a bull in sight. A second rocket signals all the bulls are free of the corral and are in motion. The third rocket signals all the bulls are in the bullring and the fourth that the bulls are in their corral, marking the end of the bull running event, for the bulls at least. For the runners, there is still the excitement of being chased around the bullring by bullocks with padding on their horns.

 

An encierro comprises six bulls that will fight in the afternoon, six steers that run with the bulls, plus three more steers that follow the herd to encourage any reluctant bulls to continue along the route to their demise.

 

The release of the bulls occurs near the Piazza Santo Domingo. They take between two minutes thirty seconds and four minutes to run the 800 metres along a fenced-off course to the bullring. As well as the steers, official pastores, or shepherds, are on hand with sticks to ensure the bulls don’t lose interest. The reason people come to spectate is to watch 2,000 people (this is the limit for each day), wearing white tops, white trousers, a red neckerchief, and a red sash around their waist, who run with the bulls while bashing them with rolled-up newspapers.

 

Having seen some local bulls, I doubt any of them would even notice a direct hit from a newspaper, so this hitting is just an act of bravado by the runners, who literally fall over each other to get close. The wonderful sculpture, Encierro, in the city centre, shows the perils involved. At each festival, at least one person is seriously injured and 50-100 others suffer non-life-threatening injuries. Fifteen people have perished in the last 100 years, since records began, mostly by being gored by a 1,100-pound bull.

 

There is a ninety-degree bend called the Estafeta Curve, where El Encierro takes a turn to the right down Calle de la Estafeta after coming along Calle Mercaderes. Known locally as “La Curva,” the corner of Mercaderes and Estafeta Street is one of the most dangerous sections of El Encierro, and not for nothing is it called Dead Man’s Corner.

 

Most bulls will not have come across a 90-degree bend before out in the fields on the edge of the city. Consequently, some bulls run straight on and collide with the wooden barricades, causing the crowd watching behind, who thought they were safe, to scatter. Other bulls crumple to the ground when their hooves can’t gain purchase on the cobbles. The officials help the bulls regain their feet and make sure they’re okay, which seems ironic given the bulls are going to die in the afternoon in the disgusting spectacle of the bullfight. Runners also slip over and get charged by the bulls. Those runners who stay on their feet have to navigate around pointed horns, cloven hooves, and stricken humans.

 

Another risk comes from runners falling and forming a pile at the entrance to the bullring which acts as a funnel, as it is much narrower than Calle de la Estafeta. When this happens, runners can suffer from asphyxia and severe contusions. Such a pile-up has occurred at least ten times in the run’s history; the first time was in 1878 and the last in 2013. A runner died of suffocation in 1977 when one of these human heaps formed. When a bull encounters such a pile, they don’t stop, but charge straight into its midst. This sounds like me when the odds are against me.

 

I have enjoyed my time in Pamplona. There are plenty of tourists and the ones I am interested in are heading towards Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, going via the train rather than walking. I will be catching the train to Burgos soon and I am looking forward to the journey – it gives me a chance to read my book, The Day of the Jackal.

 

I bought some new clothes here. They are very distinctive and memorable and totally unlike the clothes I normally wear.

Hunting the hunters

A number of things about trophy hunting strike me as evil including the fact that these people gain pleasure from killing a sentient being from a cowardly distance.

It’s time someone did something.

As an author, I can make sure someone does. That someone is Alex Peters.

Alex Peters had loved animals her whole life. When her friends expressed their sadness that no one was hunting the hunters of animals, she decided to rectify the situation. She was the ideal candidate. In her normal job, as a soldier behind enemy lines, she’d killed animal abusers when given the chance and the animals were given some respite from their ordeals.

Now she was not undercover. She was on holiday, travelling on the trains in Spain and Portugal.

There were no colleagues to back her up. She would have to take risks.

She doesn’t keep a diary of the deaths, but does like to write about the history of the places she has visited. This makes her seem like a normal human being – even when she isn’t.

Between 23rd January and 31st January, the book is available at a discount here 

Hunter vs Hunted

A number of things about trophy hunting strike me as evil such as the fact that there are people out there who want to kill beautiful animals.

It’s time someone did something.
As an author, I can make sure someone does. That someone is Alex Peters.

Alex Peters had loved animals her whole life. When her friends expressed their sadness that no one was hunting the hunters of animals, she decided to rectify the situation. She was the ideal candidate. In her normal job, as a soldier behind enemy lines, she’d killed animal abusers when given the chance and the animals were given some respite from their ordeals.

Now she was not undercover. She was on holiday, travelling on the trains in Spain and Portugal.

There were no colleagues to back her up. She would have to take risks.

She doesn’t keep a diary of the deaths, but does like to write about the history of the places she has visited. This makes her seem like a normal human being – even when she isn’t.

Between 23rd January and 31st January, the book is available at a discount here 

She’s Coming For You – Chapter 1

Alex Peters flew to Pamplona from Madrid. She was in her mid-thirties and her ginger hair flowed easily down to the collar of her light-blue shirt. Her blue eyes surveyed her fellow passengers on the turbo-prop plane as it rode the thermals just after takeoff from Barejas airport in Madrid.

 

As the plane flew over northern Spain towards Navarre, she thought about why she was on this journey. Her friends had recently expressed their sadness that no one was hunting the trophy hunters, who killed animals to boost their egos. Peters was a lifelong lover of animals and the sadness of her friends hit home, hard. She had vowed to pursue those who hunt the defenceless from long distance, a cowardly distance. She had been provided with the name of an organisation who could help her in this quest.

 

They had provided her with the itinerary of some trophy hunters in Spain and Portugal and she’d been delighted with their help. In her normal job, working undercover behind enemy lines, she had killed many animal abusers – people who hit their donkeys with sticks and people who’d run their horses into the ground. These people, the abusers, met their end. The animals were given some relief, some respite from their ordeals.

 

Alex took out her diary and started to write. She liked to jot down her thoughts about the places she visited, especially about their history. It would be fun in a few years’ time to reread these diaries and see what her experiences had been.

 

Peters had no hold luggage and was planning to buy some clothes in Pamplona, almost certainly from El Corte Ingles, the department store found in every Spanish city she’d ever been to. She wouldn’t need a bag as her carry-on luggage comprised a neatly folded black travel bag inside a rucksack. There was no point in buying a suitcase she wouldn’t need on the flight back from Lisbon to London.

 

As for toiletries, she was used to not brushing her teeth for weeks in her ‘day job’ back in the real world. She was working now, but not for her usual employers; this was more a favour, a career break in terms of target, but not in terms of methodology. The showers in the hotels would be a luxury compared to rivers and lakes. She looked at her passport as she walked down the steps of the plane. This was the last time she would be using her own passport until Lisbon. After clearing customs here in Pamplona, she would become Pat Walker, a name she would use until Santiago de Compostela.

She’s Coming For You

A number of things about trophy hunting strike me as evil.

  • The fact that there are people out there who want to kill beautiful animals.
  • The fact that these people gain pleasure from killing a sentient being from a cowardly distance.
  • The fact that they display the results of their hunting for the world to see.
It’s time someone did something.
As an author, I can make sure someone does. That someone is Alex Peters.

Alex Peters had loved animals her whole life. When her friends expressed their sadness that no one was hunting the hunters of animals, she decided to rectify the situation. She was the ideal candidate. In her normal job, as a soldier behind enemy lines, she’d killed animal abusers when given the chance and the animals were given some respite from their ordeals.

Now she was not undercover. She was on holiday, travelling on the trains in Spain and Portugal.

There were no colleagues to back her up. She would have to take risks.

She doesn’t keep a diary of the deaths, but does like to write about the history of the places she has visited. This makes her seem like a normal human being – even when she isn’t.

Between 23rd January and 31st January, the book is available at a discount here 

Do you like cats?

You would have liked Freddie cat.

He has passed away now and I miss him, especially as I am working from home.

He was a very curious cat, for all the meanings of the word curious.

If he wasn’t asleep and he wasn’t eating, then he was up to something, such as trying to gain entry into the basement suite below. You would always have to ask – is he in the washing machine or under the bath, behind the dry stone wall, or trying to climb the tall tree in the corner of the garden?

Freddie was a cat who loved bread and would steal it whenever he could, even if it meant biting into a sandwich that was on my plate when I was holding it. We would then play tug-of-war with the sandwich, which wasn’t designed to be used for this sport. Freddie would take the sandwich somewhere inaccessible and I would have to clean up the mess.

Read about Freddie the cat here

Do you like cats?

You would have liked Freddie cat.

He has passed away now and I miss him, especially as I am working from home.

He was a very curious cat, for all the meanings of the word curious.

If he wasn’t asleep and he wasn’t eating, then he was up to something, such as trying to gain entry into the basement suite below. You would always have to ask – is he in the washing machine or under the bath, behind the dry stone wall, or trying to climb the tall tree in the corner of the garden?

Freddie was a cat who loved bread and would steal it whenever he could, even if it meant biting into a sandwich that was on my plate when I was holding it. We would then play tug-of-war with the sandwich, which wasn’t designed to be used for this sport. Freddie would take the sandwich somewhere inaccessible and I would have to clean up the mess.

Read about Freddie the cat here