Sunday, 4 April 2010

Phew! That would have been embarrassing!

So, here I am, banging on about plagiarism and nearly falling into the trap myself!
I have discovered that the graphic of Himmler on the original proposed cover has been used on the cover of "Time" magazine in the past. Therefore a slight re-design is called for. The re-jigged cover is reproduced here for your delectation.




 The book itself is now approximately three-quarters complete at 146,250 words.  I'm pleased with the way it is developing; but a cautionary word to prospective readers... as it is populated with mainly Military characters, it contains language that would be used by them... explicit, and graphically profane!
(But at least you'll be able to swear professionally in both German and Russian!)
 Here's a sampler to be going on with:

As the Tupolev cruised on towards Mojaisk; some hundred and ten kilometres to the west of Moscow; back in Minsk, Evgenya Tarasov had hurriedly packed a suitcase and was half-way down the dingy stairs of her apartment block when she met Vasilev, the caretaker.
'Off on a trip?'
He said, pleasantly.
She forced a smile;
'Just a few days in Gomel; my mother isn't too well. I should be back by the weekend.'
He nodded;
'Well, take care; I hope she's better soon.'
As she closed the front door behind her, Comrade Vasilev reached for the telephone. He smiled slyly as he rang NKVD Headquarters and reported her departure.

Evening was setting in as she hurried through the quiet streets, making for the station. As she came down Chkalov Street, she sensed she was being followed. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw nothing. Only another half a kilometre and she'd be at the station... and safely away. As she came down onto the Lavskaya embankment, the street lamps were just flickering on. She looked around. The whole embankment was deserted, except for a man in the distance, walking his dog. He looked rather young to be the owner of a Black Russian terrier... that breed was an old man's dog. Still; it might be his father's... but it still seemed a little odd.
She turned towards the station. He was walking in the same direction, with the little dog leaping and gambolling around on its leash. She began to relax; soon, she would be out of their clutches. She had been a fool to get mixed up with them in the first place.

They dragged her body out of the Svislach River, half a kilometre downstream from the embankment, early the next morning. They couldn't easily identify her. Her handbag... if indeed, she had been carrying one; was missing, and the bullet, which had been fired at close range into the back of her head, had blown most of her face away.



The novel should be completed by the end of the summer.