My books

I love to write. Am I any good at it? That’s not for me to say; Art for art’s sake.

Here you’ll find two of my books in their first draft, raw and unedited states.

The first is called Bastion Tremont; the second is The Man the Legend.

I hope you enjoy and would love to hear your feedback on my guestbook page.




Chapter 1


What is the nature of conspiracy? The Oxford dictionary describes it as “ • noun (pl. conspiracies) a secret plan by a group to do something unlawful or harmful.

Bastion Tremont had long held a conspiracy to be true. It haunted him each day, every waking second. It led him to where he is now, bound to a chair, bleeding from an already swollen mouth and a deep knife wound to the stomach; alone and scared but defiant to the very end; an end he felt sure that would come for him before too much more time passed.

He looked around the room, bare of nearly everything. Six bare bulbs lit the room with a harsh light, a large open space with a high ceiling, but strangely there was no echo in the place at all. A kitchenette nestled in the corner was the only clue that this once was an apartment. There was also a table and some cheap chairs, all looking like they had been picked up at a charity shop for no more than ten dollars for the set. Unfortunately the chair he was bound to was very solid with no give at all.

There were four men in the room with him, the men who had grabbed him, beaten him and bound him to this chair. He didn’t hold it against them, they were doing their jobs but he would make them pay just the same. He had vowed that whoever stood in the way of him achieving his goal would die and die horribly.

He sat in his chair, not struggling but not resigned to his fate; there is always a way and struggling against the binds that held tight is not it. The opportunity would come and when it did he would be ready.

The four men in the room busied themselves while Bastion waited. He sat calm, bruised and battered to be sure but taking time to reflect on how he came to be here.

In the last nine years he had thought about it often; not that he had a chance to forget it. The news media would show images or documentaries, survivor stories, it never ended. September eleventh two thousand and one his life changed forever. He remembered the morning with such clarity it was like he was watching it on a continuous loop in high definition. He was woken by the sun streaming through the window when his wife threw back the curtains of their hotel room at the Wiltshire hotel in New York, where they were staying with their daughter Libby.

“Fuck. Close the damn curtains, I’m not well.” Bastion barked pulling his head back under the covers.

“Damn it Bastion, how many times do I have to tell you, don’t swear in front of Libby.” Patricia retorted drawing the curtains closed.

Libby stood in the doorway looking on.

“Come on daddy, I want to go sightseeing.”

Bastion uncovered an eye, looked at his daughter and smiled weakly. He pulled back the covers further as Patricia closed the curtains.

Libby looked back at him from a safe distance. She saw his pale complexion and the sweat standing out on his forehead, he certainly looked sick and she could hardly forget the sounds of him retching through the night in the bathroom.

“I’m not well honey. Why don’t you and mum go on without me today and tell me all about it when you get back. Hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow and we can explore then.”

Patricia walked over to the bedside from the window sat down and put her palm to Bastions head. She looked him in the eyes as she tried a concerned look on but it only came across looking stern.

“Well, you still feel hot but not as hot as last night. Stay and rest and we’ll call when we stop for lunch.”

Bastion smiled at his wife and turned to Libby.

“Can I get a family hug?”

Libby lingered in the doorway looking at her father then at her mother. Patricia nodded a half nod to indicate it was safe to approach. At that she bounded to the bed and threw her arms around her father’s neck hugging him tight. She pulled back to allow her mother to join the group hug.

The joy of that moment recalled hurt more than the wounds these men had inflicted. The binds that bound him felt like those arms stretched around him again. He wished they were, he would never let them go.

As Bastion sat and thought about the past his thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing followed by a ringing tone. He took a moment to gather himself and realize it was his mobile phone ringing on the table. All four men stopped what they were doing and looked at the phone then at Bastion, everyone in the room undecided as to what to do. Bastion knew either he answered or one of these men answered or no-one answered the game would be put into play. He watched the men who in turn watched him. The seconds passed and still the phone rang on. One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the phone from the table pressing the receive button as he did so. He pulled the phone to his ear saying nothing, just listening. Bastion smiled. It was as he expected. If his plan went bad he knew that he would be here, wherever here was. Captured and interrogated. There would be a phone call, Then.........

The man holding the phone listened on, a voice finally emanating from the earpiece.

“John? Are you there?” A woman’s voice questioned.

The man holding the phone shrugged at the other men in the group and spoke for the first time.

“Hello?” he responded.

“That’s not John, Where is he?”

“John’s busy at the moment. May I ask who this is?”

Bastion listened to the man’s accent, it sounded South African, strange, he thought.

“It’s his mother and I don’t care how busy he is you put him on. He was supposed to here for dinner an hour ago.”

The man shrugged again, the other men shrugged back. He looked at Bastion holding the phone from his ear.

Bastion smiled and nodded to the man who put the phone back to his ear speaking again.

“If you wait just a moment madam I’ll see if I can find him.”

He covered the mouthpiece and walked across the room to where Bastion sat tied to the chair. Another one of the men took out a large knife holding it against Bastion’s throat.

“Say a wrong word and your blood will soak your clothes, guaranteed.” The man with the phone said and winked.

He held the phone to Bastion’s ear and stood facing him his eyes fixed on Bastion.

“Hello mum.”

“John, where the hell are you? You were due here an hour ago. Your dinner is cold, hard.”

“I’m sorry mum. I got held up with four of the guys from work.”

“That’s o.k. son. Do you want me to heat up a plate?”

“That would be great. Thanks again. You’re the best.”

“I know son, I know. It will be ready in about five minutes. So I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you mum. See you soon.” Bastion said and smiled as the phone was taken from his ear.

The man holding the phone smiled as he pressed the hang up button.

“I guess you’re dinner is going to get cold again John.” He laughed and the other men joined in.

“I guess so.” Bastion replied with a heavy sigh.

“What are we waiting for anyway? Aren’t you guys going to ask me questions or something?” Bastion asked.

“We’re waiting for the boss. He’ll ask the questions, and believe me, you won’t like his tone.” The man who had held the phone responded laughing again.

“Is he far away? I’d sure like to get home for that dinner.” Bastion questioned.

All four men stopped and looked at him like he was crazy.

“You’re joking right? You don’t actually think you’re going to eat that dinner do you?”

The tension was hanging heavy in the air, Bastion staring at the man in front of him but before he could respond there was a banging on the door. All the men except Bastion jumped at the sound. He sat in the chair and smiled.

“I hope that’s the boss, I’m getting hungry.”

The men watching over him looked at him again like he had lost his mind before one of the men moved toward the door shaking his head in disbelief as he went. The man standing in front of Bastion leaned closer until their noses almost touched.

“You really have no idea what’s coming do you?”

Bastion looked at the man square in the eyes, not blinking. The smile had left his face.

“You should have left me to finish the job, we wouldn’t have to be here now, look at what you have brought on all of us.”

Bastion snapped his head back and brought his forehead forward crashing into the man’s face shattering his nose and spraying blood over both of them. The man took a step back and collapsed onto the floor out cold snoring heavily as his body took over trying to draw breath through the blood and shattered bones.

The banging on the door boomed again. The two closest men ran forward to tend to their fallen team member while the third man reached the door.

“Who is it?”

“Who the fuck do you think it is? Just open the door you idiot.”

The man at the door threw back the bolts and turned the lock. Bastion watched as a large powerfully built man stepped into the room. He took two steps and saw the man bound to the chair with blood covering his face and one of his team on the floor being put into the recovery position by the other two team members. The man at the door looked at the boss still holding the open door.

“What the fuck happened here? You three have a guy tied to a chair and he can still take you out. Fuck me.”

The boss turned to the guy holding the door.

“Well close the door you fool.” He barked.

Bastion smiled at the man before closing his eyes and listening. He heard a metallic thump and slide of something on the floor. The explosion that followed was deafening and the flash of light so brilliant that even through his closed eyes bastion could see it. The next instant there was the sounds of heavy thuds and a guttural cry and finally the sound of the door to the room slamming shut, although he really couldn’t trust his hearing, the sound of the explosion still echoing through his head made his hearing almost redundant.

He opened his eyes to see a woman, middle aged but still very pretty, he didn’t know her real age but he guessed around forty five. Janet, his mother or that was how she treated him anyway, his real mother dying many years before the tragedy that had befallen his family. She smiled at him with sadness in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry we’re late Bastion. We had a devil of a time trying to find the place. This building is like a rabbit warren. Are you o.k.?”

“I am now. Thanks guys.”

A man was cutting the ropes that bound him to the chair, the blood starting to move again through his arms as he was freed. He took a moment to stretch himself feeling a stab of pain in his stomach from the wound.

Janet noticed the grimace on his face.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

Bastion lifted his shirt revealing the knife wound that cut across his abdomen from his belly button to near the bottom of his ribcage. Janet gasped as she went into medic mode.

“Jon, get over here and help me with this. Bring the first aid kit. The rest of you clean this place and get the bodies into the van. I want to be out of here in ten minutes.”

Bastion half stood and was half lifted from his chair and laid onto the floor, the unconscious man with the shattered face lying close by being cuffed and manhandled out of the room. The rest of the group that had been holding him hostage were already gagged and bound in the centre of the room. That was something; Janet’s crew knew their stuff. They had been in the room not even two minutes and the situation was completely reversed.

“You’re lucky Bastion. If this wound was much deeper you would have had a serious problem. I’ll stitch you up and you’ll live and best of all you’ll have a nice scar to show for your effort. This may hurt a little.”

Jon ran an I.V line into Bastions arm that soon started to tingle and turn cold as the morphine raced through his blood into his brain erasing the pain he was feeling.

Janet produced another syringe and went to work numbing the area around the wound before cleaning and stitching. Bastion grimaced at the touch of the needle but soon didn’t notice the pain of the wound or the needle. She worked fast and true to her word they were packed and ready to leave ten minutes later.

Bastion surveyed her work and was impressed with what he saw, a neat line of around forty stitches bunched close together. It would indeed be a great scar. The thought struck him as particularly funny which made him laugh until he felt the pull of his belly against the newly stitched flesh.

Four of the crew that had come to rescue him gripped his shoulders and legs picking him up from the floor and carrying him from the room while he watched the ceiling go by. The hallways were well lit and equally there was no echo here. He had time to think as the doors on either side of the hallway slipped by that this place was like a bunker.

The men carried Bastion from the building while two others were posted to watch standing guard outside the front doors to the building.

Bastion had a moment to see the building he had been held in. It looked derelict with all the windows boarded and plants growing from some of the window sills and roof. We should use this place as our dumping ground he thought as the doors to the van closed and they moved out into the night.



The man, the legend.



Chapter one


John Watson awoke and sat up in bed. The smile was already spreading across his face. He looked around his room; well furnished with high-end furniture and his pride and joy Monet on the wall above his bed.

He turned and admired the sleeping, naked, beauty beside him. What was her name again? He tried to think back, but the blur of the night before continued.

As he climbed out of bed he saw her underwear at the door to his room and her dress further down the wide tiled hallway. He walked to where the dress lay on the floor. The dress was a sheer, light see through material, it hugged her body so tight he was amazed she could breathe when she wore it, and John could barely breathe when he looked at her wearing it. He picked it up from the floor and felt the material. It was so soft to the touch and it held her scent so much that he felt intoxicated. He held the dress by the straps and let it hang. There it was, her nametag from the speed-shagging event from last night. Bethany; Such a wonderful name for such an exquisite creature. They call it speed dating but he knew better. Everyone who went there was there for one thing, cut the bullshit, lets get laid. The thing that constantly had him questioning was why were so many beautiful women alone?

He looked out through the window at the drizzling rain outside and thought to himself, gotta love that Melbourne weather. But not for long….


The answer he had been seeking had come to him in his sleep, or perhaps it was jarred loose by the girl from last night. Perhaps she was a muse. He’d heard of such things in artists, and he considered himself an artist of sorts.

His father had owned his own accountancy firm and had done o.k. Of course John had followed in his fathers footsteps and gone to university and studied to be a C.P.A but he had also done business management, languages and of these the most profitable trading and shares.

When his father had died twelve years ago leaving the business to John he had transformed the way the business ran, broadening the services the firm offered. He took the high profile clients by the hand and led them to massive profits through share trading and then showed them how to maximise what they had made and pay little or no tax.

His fees were exorbitant but his clients were happy to pay, as they never had it so good. Word passed in all the right circles and the business thrived. It outgrew the very well appointed and central location, so with an eye to the future John shopped around and bought a huge inner city office building and had a massive presence. More and more property followed and now John was worth over twenty million dollars and his business worth another forty million.

He had every toy he ever wanted, a bright yellow convertible Lamborghini, a nice little boat in the marina and of course the house.

Making money was like an art form, and for John the art came very easily. When he looked at the numbers and how he could manipulate the way the law was written it flowed like a beautiful symphony. A number cruncher, (what the hell did that mean anyway) such an uncivilised name for music he created. He was proud of what he had created, and as with any art it had its own power and presence, although not the power or the presence he craved.

While his name was well known around the players in the city, most of his clients had never met him. He dealt with some of course but the bright young things he hired direct from collages, for their creativity, had after some in house training gone directly to the factory floor so to speak. They were the front line and they sourced the business. They were paid well and worked hard, often John would see a great majority working after he finished at eight and sometimes even working through the night. He would arrive at eight and find them at their desk bug eyed and working away jacked up on the marching powder. He didn’t mind as long as they were discreet and clients didn’t see them that way. There were times though when he was thankful he had put in the rear exit from the offices.

With the hours he worked and the pressing tax year coming to an end that didn’t leave a lot of time for much else, like well, life.

Of course he had had girlfriends, some were pure eye candy more interested in his bank balance than anything else, postage stamps he called them; Lick them, stick them and send them away. Others were altogether more intriguing, like Bethany. She is a nurse, fortunately he had never been to a hospital but if he had known that angels like this lurked there he would have become a hyperchondriac long ago.

These dating events were one of the few outings he had, and the only reason he first went was because his friend Daniel (Dan the Man) was worried that what was left of his manhood would shrivel and die if he didn’t do something soon.

John gazed back into the bedroom and the smile returned to his face, “wonderful” he said to himself. He turned and walked toward the kitchen.

He had a spring in his step as he padded his way across the open plan room. He filled the coffee percolator and put it on the heat and pulled two cups from the cupboard. As he waited for the percolator to bring the scent of heaven to him, he gazed out of the kitchen French doors into the back garden. A light drizzle was falling and he noticed his neighbour, a keen gardener, working in his back yard. Understandable he supposed on a Saturday, but he wondered if this man worked, as all he saw him do was work in the garden.

The neighbour looked up and saw John standing at the French doors looking at him. John only then realised why the man had a shocked expression on his face, he looked down and saw he was still naked, and well, just the sight of what lay sleeping in his bed had made the blood stay in all the right places. He looked back at the neighbour and shrugged and waved. John opened the door and called “lovely morning”. The neighbour shook his head” fucken pervert” was all he could manage.

The heady aroma of the coffee filled the kitchen so John, with a smirk on his face went about making the coffee. Women in his limited experience liked their coffee white with two sugars, no clue why on that front but it certainly saved time asking.

He went to the freezer and pulled out the frozen pastries he had stored for just such an occasion and put them into the oven. He grabbed a banana and ate as he went about sorting his fist full of pills he had with breakfast daily. While he swallowed his pills he noticed the neighbour watching him, now who’s the fucken pervert, he waved again, this time the man threw down his garden fork and stalked back to his house.

John picked up the cups and headed for the bedroom. Bethany was in the same position; face down with her head turned to face the door. Her golden hair spilled over the pillows like the water in a fast running stream. The light that came in the window highlighted it so it shone. Her body was only half covered and the look of her perfect skin affected John again with the stirring that got the neighbour so upset.

He placed the cups on the table next to the bed and went to his underwear draw and put on some Calvin Kliens. He had always thought it odd that he was putting on underwear with another man’s name on them but hey that’s fashion baby.

As he made his way across the room Bethany opened her eyes and looked at him. Her huge green eyes were so penetrating John felt naked again. He smiled “good morning” he said. She smiled and pulled the covers around her as she sat up. “Good morning yourself stud” she retorted. John laughed at this and Bethany joined in.

He knelt on the bed and kissed her forehead. He pulled back “sorry I haven’t brushed my teeth yet and my morning breath would wilt flowers” he said. She laughed again and her laughter sounded like silk was moving through his head. “Well it’s just as well I don’t wilt.” She said. “Do you have a bathroom here?” she asked. John walked over and opened the en-suite bathroom door and bowed deep.

Bethany climbed out of bed and stalked across the bedroom like a cat. She didn’t bother to cover herself and he watched her, every muscle perfectly toned and as she passed, her ass so tight you could break walnuts on it. The door closed and he heard the sound of what sounded like Niagara Falls. The toilet flushed and he could hear her brushing her teeth. “Shit” he exclaimed. He ran toward the other bathroom to brush his own teeth and check his reflection.

He got back just as she emerged from the bathroom. She stood in the door, with her hip touching one side of the frame and her hand reaching up to top with a smile on her face “well, now do I get that kiss?” she said. The way she was standing it was like she was in a picture frame and that was how he viewed her, a work of art.

He walked across the room and pulled her to him. Her nipples were so hard he thought they would take his eyes out from five paces and as he held her to his chest could feel them pressed against him.

He lifted her from the ground and kissed her deeply. He carried her over to the bed laid her down and continued to kiss her. His hands were all over her body, first caressing her perfect breasts and then working his way down her body to her legs.

He was panting hard and she was giggling and smiling at him. She pushed up and threw him on the bed and straddled him. She was grinding herself against him and he felt like he would finish before he even started. She slid down his body and knelt on the floor between his legs and started to pull off his underwear. He looked down at her when he realised what she was about to do. Before he knew what was happening he was in her mouth and struggling not to finish too quickly. He started to do complex math problems in his head to distract himself. His concentration ended with him adding two and two. He knew there was nothing he could do and he started to groan, almost spent when there was a banging on the front door.

His ass puckered, luckily. He didn’t want to foul himself with this angel in the vicinity.

“What the.....” Was all he could manage.

The banging on the front door continued”Police, open up!” someone called and resumed banging.

Bethany looked up and stopped. John looked at Bethany mentally begging her to finish. He was rock hard and aching.

“What have you done?” Bethany asked.

“I thought it was you” John said trying to sound light-hearted.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back. Don’t move!” john said as he got up off the bed.

The banging continued and more shouts.

John got up and pulled on his underwear, trying, desperately trying to put everything back into place and failing miserably. He turned to Bethany and shrugged. He got some track pants from his cupboard and pulled them on as he moved toward the front door.

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m coming” John called and the banging stopped.

John looked out through the spy hole and saw two uniformed police at the door. He opened the door and stood there with his barely concealed manhood bulging in his pants and an expression of annoyance on his face.

“Yes gentlemen, what is this? I’m kind of busy here. John said as he addressed the police.

The police officers looked him up and down obviously noticing the bulge in his pants as they both had a smile on their faces. The taller of the two officers addressed him first. “I’m Constable Davis and this” gesturing to the other man “Is constable Gerrard”. The other man nodded.

John smiled at this “So, D & G is it? Is that desperate and gagging?” John said.

The two officers looked at each other and then back to John with quizzical expressions on their faces. “You know Dolce and Gabbana, D&G, Davis and Gerrard”. John said realizing that that was obviously wasted on these officers of the law.

Both officers looked back at John with no humour on their faces at all. John could already feel the blood run back into his body and the bulge in his pants was less pronounced.

“The reason we’re here this morning is that someone has called in a complaint against you for public indecency”. The first officer said.

John looked back at the police and started to laugh,” You’re joking right?” he asked.

“No sir. This is a serious complaint” the second cop chimed in. “Your neighbour said you exposed yourself to him while he was working in his yard”.

“If walking around my own house naked is considered public indecency, I’d be interested to see what you would say to what I was just doing” John said.

The first police office tilted his head back and sniffed the air. “Is something burning sir,” he said.

John remembered he had put the pastries in the oven “Fuck, Hold on a minute, I’ve got something in the oven.” John said as he walked back toward the kitchen.

As he walked he grabbed his mobile phone and pressed the number for his lawyer, who just happened to be his friend Daniel, hence, The Man.

Dan answered in the third ring” I hope you know what time it is.” He said.

Just as John was about to speak the smoke alarm started to chime. “Fuck me, hold on a second will you” John said to Dan. He walked to the French doors and opened them to let some air in and saw his neighbour looking over the fence at him with a smile on his face. John flipped him the finger and turned to the oven. He turned the oven off and grabbed a cloth and retrieved the tray from the oven. He poured the carbonised lumps into the sink and ran water over them. He then turned his attention to the still screeching smoke alarm. Due to the high ceilings in his house he couldn’t reach the alarm so he grabbed the broom from the pantry and tried to push the button with the handle. He tried again and finally lost patience and swatted the alarm, smashing it to pieces. It let out one more squawk and the battery fell out and the noise finally stopped.

John put down the broom and picked the phone back up. “Sorry about that, minor emergency taken care of,” he said.

“What the fuck’s going on John, You called me oh my god o’clock on a Saturday morning with the house burning down. This better not be a social call or I will castrate you and hang you by your intestines” Dan replied.

“Always the sweet talker” John said. “I have the police at my door” John continued.

“You what? Not that girl from last night surely, she’s over eighteen isn’t she. Fuck John what have you done” Dan said with a worried tone.

“It’s not that” john said. Before he could go on Dan cut in.

“But she is eighteen though right? I mean shit John I’m good but I’m not sure I’m that good.” Dan said.

“Just shut up and listen will you. This morning I got up and went to the kitchen to make some coffee, still naked, and the neighbour looked over my fence and obviously took offence and called the police. They’re here now telling me I’m guilty of public indecency.” John said.

“You? Well tell them to go fuck themselves. It’s bullshit. I’m going back to sleep now. We’ll talk later. Ciao” Dan said as he hung up.

John put the phone in his pocket as he walked back to the door. The police were standing there and waiting.

“My lawyer says I should tell you to go fuck yourselves,” John said as he started to close the door in the faces of the police. Before he could close it all the way the taller police officer put his foot in the door and stopped it.

John was already turned around heading toward the naked woman in his bedroom. He only turned back when he heard the two men entering. By then he was too late to react as the men grabbed him and pushed him to the floor. The taller police officer sat on John’s back as officer Gerrard pulled John’s arms behind him and tried to cuff him. John was struggling and fighting, the noise of the scuffle made Bethany come from the bedroom wrapped in a bed sheet and look at the men on the floor.

“What’s going on here?” she asked.

All three of the men looked up. When the police officers saw Bethany they stopped what they were doing and stared at her. If she looked perfect naked she was a goddess in a bed sheet. How do women do that? John thought to himself and smiled in spite of the situation. John continued to squirm under the weight of the big man on top of him. Finally Officer Davis regained the power of speech and addressed Bethany. “We’re arresting this man for public indecency and resisting arrest”

“You what? You can’t. This is nonsense.” Bethany said as she shook her head and headed back toward the bedroom.

The cuffs were on both wrists and the officers were hauling John to his feet when Bethany emerged again fully dressed and looking amazing. All three men were transfixed again. The two officers looked at each other and then at John, a look of disbelief passed between them and they returned their gaze back to Bethany.

“Bethany please take my phone from my pocket and hit redial. It’s my lawyer Dan. Tell him to get his ass down to the police station and get me out.”

Bethany walked over and put her hand in his pocket but instead of his phone she grabbed something else and smiled at him. She kissed him and then let go and grabbed his phone.

“We’ll finish this later, bad boy”. Bethany said and smiled.

John smiled back as the police turned him around and marched him out of his front door.

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© Chris Large