All For Love

By Dani J Caile

In the sleepy village of Fickleton, there is but one obsession, a young Venus named Evelyn Sands, adored, loved, cherished. But then, one day she is taken from them...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dani J Caile
• Release date: Dec 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463986356

Dani J Caile

I've been writing for years, but now I've found my voice and style. I hope you like it as much as everyone else who has read it. :-)

Book preview

All For Love

by

Dani J Caile

All For Love

by

Dani J Caile

Smashwords

ISBN: 9780463986356

Published in the United States of America with international distribution.

Version 2.0

Blog: http://danijcaile.blogspot.hu/

Copyright © Dani J Caile 2016

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

In the sleepy village of Fickleton, there is but one obsession, a young Venus named Evelyn Sands, adored, loved, cherished. But then, one day she is taken from them...

Table of Contents

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Other titles by Dani J Caile…

Part One

Whispers rippled over the mossy rocks as the water flowed by. Warblers battled it out to sing their repeating yet hypnotising, screeching melodies. The sky was amass with laden bees and dying, desperate butterflies searching for pollen from flowers all abloom. And two fishermen stinking of booze were in their wreck of a boat. Tied to an old forgotten gillnet stake.

Have you noticed...? began Nigel, yawning and slowly stretching, making his dirty camouflage jacket creak. Horris, snoring only a moment ago, opened one eye from his early morning nap and glared from under his fish hook cap. Have you...? started Nigel again, without the yawn.

No, I haven’t, not yet, no, replied Horris. He kicked a crumpled beer can across the bottom of the boat as he repositioned his dead leg.

...that chocolate bars these days are smaller? Nigel held up an empty though chocolatey wrapper. It matched the crackling pile around their cold feet, a perfect example from the binge the night before, forgotten and discarded plastic skins of momentary pleasure. A green dragonfly hovered by and gave the shown item a glance before flying off. They weigh exactly the same but... continued Nigel, stopping only to swat a lone mosquito.

What the hell are you going on about now, Nigel, eh? Horris moved his weight, hoping it would bring blood to the leg. Are you saying that after all this time you’ve come up with a conspiracy theory for chocolate bars?

Oh, yes, as the years have passed, chocolate factories across the globe have...

...surreptitiously recalibrated their machines, yeah, right, Nigel.

Millimetre by millimetre, milligram by milligram, they have decreased the size of their delicious products.

You, as with all of your nincompoop idiotic asinine paperthin theories, are full of shit, sighed Horris, shaking his head in dismay.

Coming from THE bull master, that’s a compliment.

You’re welcome, now shut up and fish, dickhead.

I haven’t finished yet…and they increase the weight of their…

Of their packaging, oh stop it, you’re upsetting the fish, yawned Horris.

Stop interrupting me, please. Now, they increase the weight of their packaging so that their loyal sugar toothed consumers continue on with their cocoa driven lives. Sad little lives, completely unaware of this villainous atrocity. Nigel dropped the hallowed empty wrapper into the boat along with the rest of the rubbish, losing it from his sight, and glanced over the side. They're not biting this morning, are they? he said, tapping the surface with a finger.

Horris adjusted his hat to cover what hair protruded from his fringe and continued napping. Not really. A kingfisher whizzed by, sending a cool breeze across his sleeping body. Had better luck the other Friday.

They sat there trying to remember that Friday, Horris at a loss for any other stories or points he could score off his friend. In the stalemate, he checked his rod hanging over the side without a twitch, wondering if he’d ever had such a lousy fishing night as this.

And we pay more for less, added Nigel, munching.

I don’t know about the fish but you’ve definitely pissed me…what are you eating? asked Horris, knowing they had no more food. His fishing partner was munching on something but he was sure there were no crisps, chocolate bars or ham and cheese sandwiches left in the boat. The pork scratchings, his favourite and unfortunately hard to get hold of in the village, were the first to be scoffed by Nigel, the git.

Eating? munched Nigel, adjusting his seating, moving the boat and splashing water.

I thought we'd eaten everything, eh?

Yes, we had, replied Nigel, chewing, crunching. Horris watched as his