a preview ~~ Killing the Rhino


an extract from the short story: Killing the Rhino

The knife scraped butter on toast. Jacob watched it melt, a river of fat seeped through the crispy bread. He lifted the thick slice and crunched into it. He ate slowly, tasting each mouthful – a tinge of salt, wheat and bran.

Once finished, he slurped tea from his mug, washing away crumbs. The mug was stained, chipped; the tea wouldn’t taste right in any other cups, certainly not the new china ones. Jacob looked through the window over the sink, across the dry patch where grass wouldn’t grow. The boundary of the kitchen-garden was a low gathering of uneven rocks and discarded wooden posts. It wasn’t maintained and in places had tumbled apart. Nothing had existed in the garden, not since Mary left.

He tipped the tea dregs down the drain and rinsed off the things he’d used under a running tap of tepid water. He placed the items on a tea-towel to dry off, in the heat, it wouldn’t take long.
Jacob always had breakfast, alone, in the kitchen, though he could hear faint clatterings of a breakfast gathering in the main dining room. He had no reason to join them.
He wanted a smoke. Most people wouldn’t take any form of tobacco any more. He had stopped once, or twice – when Mary had pestered him about the smell and the pools of ash – it wouldn’t be given up completely. He reached up to the top of the dresser and his fingers bent around the tin – hidden from little eyes.

Despite the rising heat, Jacob wore woollen trousers, a heavy cotton shirt and the waistcoat – all were faded from sun, wind and wear. His feet were covered in scuffed walking boots. He felt a shiver and rubbed a hand across his neck. He looked down at the hand and wondered when he had got so old.

He glanced down at the tiled floor and remembered: Mary – stood with a hand on a hip and another half-raised. The raised hand held a wooden ladle and she used it to point. She pointed at the floor, the tiles – earlier washed clean, now splattered with mud and leaves and dung. Afterwards – all boots had to be removed at the steps and a boot-rack had been installed. Mary liked things to be neat.

The main doors were both open and tourists milled about between the house, the steps and the forecourt.

The truck was packed up. Adje was ready to drive them away.

Jacob shut the doors and closed the house.


the full version will be available in the collection City of Animals out soon!

Lizzie HW

The latest eBook from Elizabeth Haley-Wood – out now!


Preview plus a special Author QA about writing rude stories:

My latest collection is available now!

Strictly for adults only.

The book is a collection of tales. A mix of poems & short stories that tell of odd encounters. Not all participants are human, not all are even real. Dare you try Strange Meetings…????

roses, the symbol of love, or lust? or something more sinister?

roses, the symbol of love, or lust? or something more sinister?

in the US $3.00  click below:


in UK £1.99 click below:


also available via Amazon Prime…

and across Canada, Australia, Europe, Japan and more…

from: The Wrong Roses:

“Darling! I was waiting for you on the other corner. Ha” she laughed, big, throaty noises. Alan knew this person was not his date. She hooked her arm into his, smiling. “The roses” she nodded down. “I love them!” she laughed again but Alan didn’t understand the joke. Before he could protest or even think of trying to, she had started marching off down the road, her grip on his arm firm, demanding. He went with her…

Q&A with the author: Elizabeth Haley-Wood about writing erotica & weird fantasy tales >>

Q: so what influenced you to write erotica?

I read Sapphire romances as a teenager. They were like Mills & Boon, the soft romances. I whizzed through the books looking for the rude bits, of course! But as I got older I noticed the tradition remained with romances (erotic or not) – the male characters were dominant, always rescuing damsels. It seemed one-sided. I wanted to try something different.

Q: your stories are unusual, do you always try to include a weird factor?

No! I love unexpected, weird stories. I like mysteries and paths that are not straight forward but twisted and hidden by brambles or go up into clouds or other dimensions. I don’t force weirdness into all of my writing. Some tales are very simple, about love but maybe the way I express that emotion is different.

Q: so how easy is it, to write the rude bits?

Ha! Easier than people may realise. There aren’t that many words to choose. And I want things to sound authentic, not too grubby. If a line or word makes me cringe, it’s out.

Q: your collections have many characters. How do you come up with them and ensure they are all different?

The worst bit is names. I can never find suitable names for everyone. I make some up. Mostly I look around and pick something randomly: from a newspaper, TV, the radio – whatever I can see. I don’t base characters on people I know in their entirety. Most writers use their imagination, that’s how writing works. Of course there are influences, my memory is full of faces, looks, expressions – I recycle them!

Q: so this is book number ten, what’s next?

Well there is a sneak preview at the end of this book of my next novel. Another contemporary erotic fantasy. Along the lines of Foreplay. It’s about a Greek/American pop-star who has a time-out in an English village. It’s set in the 1990s so no internet. And the male lead is a quiet baker who has reasons to keep so quiet. It’s a light romance but there are dark supernatural elements. Expect a battle!

I am also working on another Collection of poems/stories (not erotica but still weird) and that title: City of Animals should be out in a few weeks (if I can stay disciplined with my editing!).

Click on the links to see more….

For other books by Elizabeth go to >> http://www.amazon.com/author/lizziehw

Lizzie HW