The Story Of a Precocious Child Part Two.

I grew up somewhat overshadowed by that incident never quite being able to connect with either parent, trust possibly being an issue. This mistrust was once put to the test and sadly, although not my fault, I was found guilty on the grounds of previous behavior. I had a throughly deserved reputation as being a destructive lad, as there were not many panes of glass within a twenty to thirty yard radius of our back-garden that my suffering father had not replaced for an irate neighbor, they swearing to kill me if it ever happened again. Another lesson that I learnt early in life, people don’t always do what they say, as I tested their resolve over and over and I’m still here to tell you the tale. Anyway, one day I was at home on my own, Oh if only for a witness, when I saw the flight of a stone appearing over the far fence and ultimately smashing against a huge sheet of glass on the conservatory roof. Crash it went leaving splinters everywhere. Yes, you’ve guessed, haven’t you? I got the blame. My father died before I had any chance to know him, and I must have been a nightmare to him. He had been in the Regular Army fighting in North Africa, Sicily and up through Italy where he remained as part of the occupying force when that Country capitulated. In relatively recent times it worried me that whilst there, and being only twenty-six and still single at the time, he may have had a liaison with a beautiful Italian seductress resulting in some poor misfortunate not knowing that they had a handsome step-brother. This lead me to visit the Naples area of southern Italy on a quest to uncover such person. I was, it must be said, not hoping to find some poor relative, but the opposite, some rich person, rolling around in Liras with enough to see be out, but alas no-one was discovered. My mother spent her war w

About Daniel Kemp

Daniel Kemp’s introduction to the world of espionage and mystery happened at an early age when his father was employed by the War Office in Whitehall, London, at the end of WWII. However, it wasn’t until after his father died that he showed any interest in anything other than himself! On leaving academia he took on many roles in his working life: a London police officer, mini-cab business owner, pub tenant and licensed London taxi driver, but never did he plan to become a writer. Nevertheless, after a road traffic accident left him suffering from PTSD and effectively—out of paid work for four years, he wrote and self-published his first novel —The Desolate Garden. Within three months of publication, that book was under a paid option to become a $30 million film. The option lasted for five years until distribution became an insurmountable problem for the production company. All seven of his novels are now published by Creativia with the seventh—The Widow’s Son, completing a three book series alongside: What Happened In Vienna, Jack? and Once I Was A Soldier. Under the Creativia publishing banner, The Desolate Garden went on to become a bestselling novel in World and Russian Literature in 2017. The following year, in May 2018, his book What Happened In Vienna, Jack? was a number one bestseller on four separate Amazon sites: America, UK, Canada, and Australia.  Although it's true to say that he mainly concentrates on what he knows most about; murders laced by the mystery involving spies, his diverse experience of life shows in the short stories he writes, namely: Why? A Complicated Love, and the intriguing story titled The Story That Had No Beginning. He is the recipient of rave reviews from a prestigious Manhattan publication and described as—the new Graham Green—by a highly placed employee of Waterstones Books, for whom he did a countrywide tour of book signing events. He has also appeared on 'live' television in the UK publicising that first novel of his. He continues to write novels, poetry and the occasional quote; this one is taken from the beginning of Once I Was A Soldier There is no morality to be found in evil. But to recognise that which is truly evil one must forget the rules of morality.
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