Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Puerto Morelos Spotlight -- Puerto Morelian, Peter Pope Jones, publishes new novel!

Puerto Morelos is home to lots of writers. So, I always like to pass along any time a neighbor is published ---

Moors, Motorcycles and Mysterious Phantoms is a richly descriptive book with a host of characters coming to life through vibrant dialog and the nearly palatable chemistry created through protagonists, Punch and Judy.

This beautifully told journey through hamlets of the New Forest moors of England begins in Mesa Colorado, with its vivid locale and colourful populace.  Percival Punchmoor explains early-on that his parents either had a dry, if droll, sense of humour or wanted to develop character, sending him to military school from which he was dismissed but with a moniker which stuck ~ Punch.   To celebrate his 40th birthday, Punch and his soon-to-be bride Judy leave Colorado to spend three months in England, where he “...would locate and buy his dream motorcycle, the vaulted Velocette Venom Thruxton, and Judy would master driving on the wrong side of the road in an MGB previously belonging to his family and inherited by his dear brother Dudley.”

Not only does Punch find his Velocette, he awakens a previously unrealized clairvoyant ability centring around a mysterious Grey Lady who beckons to him from the moors.  A gardener, Old Henry, sums up Punch’s adventure into the supernatural: “Oh yes, sir, I’ve seen him many a times.  But don’t you look so surprised, sir, there’s many a things in this here world that we are not privy to, but that does not mean they don’t exist, now does it, sir?”
And thus the story unfolds, with the reader travelling along with Punch and Judy as they not only solve the mystery of this Grey Lady but also satiate their appetites for a plethora of sensory pleasures.  Throughout, the reader experiences the enchanting English countryside, enticing villages, and relationships forged with intriguing people.

Moors, Motorcycle and Mysterious Phantoms
is a magical ride ~

fast cars
electric chemistry
fascinating people
interesting places
gastronomic delights
mystical encounters

You can find more info on Peter’s website, or download it directly on Amazon.

When a book club selects Moors, Motorcycles, and Mysterious Phantoms, they can schedule an Author Chat with Peter via Skype!

He’d also appreciate Review/Comments of the book on the Amazon Kindle site!

Excerpts from Moors, Motorcycles, and Mysterious Phantoms:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Well, good’a evening.  If it’s’a not the ‘dynamic duo’ on the eve of their’a impending adventure to the old’a country.  Are you two’a choosing to honour us with your’a illustrious company, please’a tell me it’s’a so?  Welcome, my friends’a welcome, welcome, and a what’s’a your pleasure on this’a memorable occasion?” Enzo beamed at them from behind his bar, “on stage” as he put it so appropriately.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They slipped into the restrooms to change into travelling sweats.
In order to keep in touch with each other and minimise the possibility of losing each other in Heathrow, Punch had opted for a suit of Day-Glo-electric, safety-orange sweats with a grey felt Stetson.  Judy had selected a Mexican hot pink with a bottle-green snakeskin Stetson.
After these choices of attire, Punch now felt quite secure about them not losing each other halfway across the world, where they may still speak English after years of open-border immigration from the far reaches of the once great British empire, but who knows?
Judy was waiting outside the ladies bathrooms for Punch, which Punch thought was a real switch.  She turned around and flashed him that smile of hers that always floored him....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later, in a vain attempt to dispel the thoughts of his personal discomfort, he found himself whistling Ravel’s Bolero in flippant disregard of the cold but with an obvious vibrato from his shivering!
By the time he could see the lights of Brockenhurst in the night sky as they reflected off the low cloud cover in the distance, the mist had become an unbroken silver white carpet hanging about two feet over the heath.  Yet the road was illuminated by the reflected starlight diffused through trillions of microscopic water droplets.  The moon was just starting to let her presence be known with her silent silver shades glowing on the horizon, illuminating the forest ponies that looked like headless, legless, colourless cylinders hovering over the mist as they grazed while moving slowly all around him....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taking a deep breath he crouched down behind the small fairing and accelerated onto the heath toward Brockenhurst as the mists enveloped him, swirling once again in front of him in the noticeably cold, darkened morning, almost totally obscuring the ever-present forest ponies standing asleep, their breath forming clouds of warm vapour around their heads....Then the strangest sensation happened to him.  He found himself in a state of slow motion.  Things just became a different time medium to him.  He was thinking clearly, calmly, or as clearly as he could in this situation?  He found himself looking into what appeared to be the face of a young woman, her hair under a veil of some sort?  Her mouth was moving silently.  Her forlorn expression tore strangely at his emotions.  Now her hands were clasped together in an imploring fashion in front of her breast, and Punch was on a collision course with her!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In a quick move, Charles deftly sliced into his roast beef, cutting off a medium-sized piece, smeared it with horseradish and slid his plate in front of Judy, saying, “Here my dear, do have a piece, it really is scrumptious!” 
In a move equally as fast as Charles’s, Judy picked up the slice between thumb and forefinger and -- throwing her head back in true sword swallower’s style -- lowered the slice into her mouth, chewing slowly while resembling a gannet swallowing a large fish.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They felt a comforting sense of security as they sat not talking, just listening to the trusty diesel engine rattling away to the accompaniment of the rain beating on the roof and the steady thudding of the overworked windscreen wipers. They sat mesmerized by the night’s sounds and the light show, the old familiar odour of aged oiled leather, damp carpet, stale tobacco smoke and their fellow humankind in their various washed or unwashed, anointed or scented selves. An intoxicating combination that left them sitting, swaying in silence as Harry maintained a monologue directed at the drivers of the other vehicles sharing the night, amazingly without a curse word. However, Punch noticed that none of his dialogue was in slightest bit complimentary....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Punch shook his head and ventured on toward the stables, passing the pond and scaring off many of the resident ducks while the aloof heron just stood as still as a statue, observing in quiet serenity the ridiculous behaviour and antics of the Mallards and Teal as they quacked and scurried away across the water surface in a panic to escape from the harmless shadow of a huge Punch. As they fled they stirred up ripples in the pond scum, and the heron struck, removing a small fish with his long spear-like bill as Punch quietly circumvented the pond....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Judy blushed just a little and threw the writing pad at him. “Punch, you are a monster. Twice a day is my limit, and I’ll choose the times!” A huge smile lit up her face as she threw herself into his arms, knocking over the chair and sprawling them across the living room floor, spilling the remnants of his coffee onto his already stained bathrobe, then kissed him passionately.
“I truly must tease you more often, baby! But for safety’s sake, after coffee in the morning, darling, you become quite the hellcat of fun!” They rolled around the carpet tickling each other and kissing until they lay as breathless as after their lovemaking bout of last night....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So do you want to meet Boadicea?” Heidi curled her hair around her fingers.
“Oh yes, absolutely!” Punch grinned back.
They walked through the factory to the hum of sewing machines, fans and female chatter while some inane disc jockey on the radio rambled on about a sale on ladies underwear and kitchen utensils.  Then they exited into a parking lot, and Punch was immediately drawn to the black, gold and alloy of her Velocette.  She was basic but beautiful.  The Viper Clubman rested on her side stand, glinting in the watery afternoon sun.
“She’s beautiful.” Punch gasped, as this was the first Velo he had seen in twenty years.  “So this is Boadicea.  My!  She is fine, I was always amazed by the way these three-fifty cc engines revved so high.  If I could justify the expense I would own a Viper and a Venom.” Punch stood staring at the beefy little short-stroke cylinder, so classically pugnacious and stocky compared to her longer-stroked bigger sister, the Venom.  He walked around Boadicea, noticing the signature oil stain on the tarmac under the primary chain case....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After about ten minutes of slipping and sliding, they successfully negotiated a path up to the top and stood overlooking the white horses whipped up on the Solent as the wind drove the waves to the shore, buffeting the rocks mercilessly.
After regaining their breath, they walked to the end of the spit and looked down into the rushing tide as it wafted back-and-forth through the opening to the cove, relentlessly crashing onto the rocks, homes to their tough little shelled inhabitants crawling across their surfaces in their never-ending search for sustenance, while crabs snagged the unaware and unfortunate fish as they sped by....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hello.  Oh hello, hello back there, chum.  I am so very sorry to be awakening you back there in your sleeping now.  But chum!  We are right now in front of the railway station, and I do believe that is the train you will be requiring to return you to where it is that you have journeyed from this day!” Rashid was hanging through the glass partition window, shaking Punch’s knee to wake him up.  “Oh how good it is that you have your eyes open to see, for I believe that train there is the train to return you to your family and your destination.  You have a friend in Rashid, and that will be six pounds and thirty-nine new pence, please chum.” Rashid outstretched his hand, and Punch placed eight pounds in it....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They lay side-by-side in the semi-darkness, he trying to control his laughter as poor Judy fought for breath, both of them suffering a tempering off of the powerful lustful passions of only a few moments before.
Punch finally arose and removed his clothes, tidily dumping them anywhere on the floor.  Judy finally raised herself onto her elbow and, smiling up at him in the half-light filtering in from the living room, wheezed out, “You really know how to treat a girl, Punch!  Firstly, you withdraw with the job unfinished, then you knock the wind out of me!  How could you leave me like this, unsatisfied and hungry for you?  Come here!”

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Amber Pierce-Schulz is the Broker/Owner of Mayan Riviera Properties, specializing in Puerto Morelos Real Estate and Puerto Morelos Vacation Rentals. We are members of AMPI and Federally Certified Realtors.