The Dreadnought Collective- Book Tour and Giveaway

The Collective will embrace several types of Black Arts as it grows and faces unusual challenges. These once belonged to the realms of Science Fiction but are fast becoming a reality in the emerging new world.
This is a series of Whodunits set in the future.

Seb Cage Begins His Adventures
The Dreadnought Collective Book 1
by Terry Tumbler
Genre: YA SciFi Fantasy
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Seb and his younger brother Bart customarily spend all of their long summer holiday in Spain, with their grandparents. Gradually, as they all become older, relationships are strained, as the old folk try to find things to keep the boys amused.
It is not long before the grandfather, Tumbler, who is a retired detective, is using Seb as a trainee investigator to keep tabs on the movements of a sector of the local town who he thinks ‘don’t fit it in’ – they are in fact dwarves of alien origin.
Soon, Tumbler and his apprentice are rumbled, and Seb is invited to join a summer campus. Coincidentally, this is run by the dwarves and has only recently been set up, virtually on the Tumbler’s doorstep!
At the campus, it gradually becomes apparent that Seb and his classmates have been chosen beforehand, by genetic engineering. They find that they possess special abilities, which have been implanted in them at an early age, and realise that these are now being developed in a matter of weeks.
Whatever plans they may have had for the future, their chosen destiny now awaits them.

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​When the food had been served, they all settled down to eat, with Bart taking his teasing of Seb to a new level by swinging his legs back and forth to brush against his legs. Grandfather Terry witnessed this when he sneaked a look under the table, and it was not long before minor foot contact was being made with the target, which was one of Seb’s shins. 
When Seb failed to react to the regularly delivered kicks, the swings got longer and the contact became stronger, with Bart being determined to get a reaction from his silently suffering brother. Seb had in fact attached his footballers’ pads to his legs, anticipating what his odious brother would do. 
Terry could stand it no longer when Bart resumed his awful humming. Forgetting that he was wearing hard-soled brogues, he retaliated instinctively by aiming a savage kick at Bart under the table. He hit Bart’s nearest shin dead centre, and realised with sudden alarm that the pain must have been excruciating for the younger piglet. This was confirmed immediately, as Bart’s eyes rolled back, his face screwed up in anguish, and he howled the roof down. 
Sandra and Maisie looked up startled, and the female boss of the house asked, “What on earth’s the matter?”
“He kicked him!” said Terry, pointing at Seb.
“You rat!” said Seb, scowling. “It was you that did it!”
“Well whoever did it, it was really cruel!” Sandra said. 
 “Look at my leg!” yelled Bart, who held it up to show a slight, emerging bruise, and trying to launch a kick back with his other foot, without success.
Maisie calmly got up, walked around the table to where Bart was clutching his injured leg, and daintily dabbed it with the damp cloth that Sandra had just fetched from the kitchen.
“You poor thing,” she said sympathetically, as she stroked his forehead with her free hand.
 “That’s better isn’t it?”
“A little,” he sobbed, glaring with hate at his brother and grandfather. “But I’m gonna get the one of you toe rags that did it!” You had to admire him for his pluck, even if he earned no brownie points by saying it.


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The Inlooker: Full Length
The Dreadnought Collective Book 2

This is a ‘black humour’ science fiction story set in the near future, where a man finds that he has a very special talent. It is to take over other people’s souls and thus possess their bodies as if they were his own.
As he becomes increasingly aware of his abilities, he first uses them to mete out justice to mentally warped criminals, and then to undertake sexual adventures.
Growing tired of what are, in the scheme of things, trivial pursuits, he embarks on a life of crime intent on accumulating serious amounts of money. Whilst fleecing the wealthy, he comes across an alien hiding amongst us, and is impressed by the seamless transport system on its own planet, so he decides to emulate it on Planet Earth.
With a colleague recruited from The Lockheed Skunk Works in America, he develops a vehicle based on UFO technology, and uses it as a stepping stone to power. His motivation soon goes beyond his revolutionary and hugely successful transport system, and extends to a serious attempt at population reduction. For this he requires even more prominence on the world stage, as he battles aliens to prevent annihilation of the expanding human race.
This book charts his progress, as he strives to achieve the impossible. It also monitors the impact on his family life, where he eventually has to decide whether to opt for mortality or immortality.
If all you want to read about is sexual adventures, and cannot be bothered with the future of mankind, this book is not for you. It is intended for those who like to ponder the value of life as we lead it, and what it could be like if we chose to take up the challenge.

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​Claude and his supporters had to keep the ‘Haves’ happy and the envious ‘Have-nots’ appeased, as far as was possible. The problem was that the latter had modelled their campaign on the apparel worn by the Ku Klux Klan (or KKK). But, rather than wear tall coned hats and robes they chose clothes that were symbolically appropriate to their immediate cause.
“Oh no!” Claude groaned, when first shown picture of what the younger, deprived people had chosen to represent their militant cause. “This is getting ridiculous!”
The Have-nots had chosen to wear outsized, silver bowler hats on their heads, which extended down to the bridges of their noses. Above the small, outside rims (representing the potty flange, perhaps?) were cut almond-shaped eye-holes (representing aliens?) so they could see where they were headed. This outlandish headwear was wedged in position by being a tight fit at the sides.
Someone said to Claude and the others, “The French call the bowler hat a Melon!” and the others around him laughed. An intelligence officer seconded to Claude confirmed that this was what the ‘Have-nots’ called them too, and they were happy to be referred to as ‘melon heads’.
Claude noticed in some of the early riot scenes, relayed to him as they happened, that the alleged ringleaders wore their ‘melons’ at a rakish angle, sloping backwards and resting on the nape of the neck. He asked his aides, “I suppose they’ve got a supporting skull cap inside, to avoid sweating when wearing these ridiculous things?” They nodded in agreement.
That was not the end of it. Regardless of gender, they were also wearing tight fitting round-necked collarless shiny silver suits, with the sleeves and drain-pipe trousers at least a few inches too short, showing bright red shirts and socks under them.
“Is the red for anger?” Claude wondered.
“The last time I saw anything quite like this was in the 1960s!” Claude said, with grim amusement.
“Yes,” one of his aides spoke up, “It brings to mind the film, Clockwork Orange by Stanley Kubrick.”


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The Time Slipsters
The Dreadnought Collective Book 3

A group of friends who have drifted apart decide to reunite and take a trip together. It is the near future, and their intention is to travel on the latest type of transport, in order to visit the ancient sites in Turkey.
They want to do this in luxury, and the travel company they selected has done its best to accommodate their desires. They are lost for words when they first cast their eyes on the spectacular, gleaming new vehicle waiting for them. It is in fact alien in technology, and far more of a futuristic craft than a mere ground-hugging coach.
Unwittingly, they are entering a world where time travel is a reality and machines can cater for individuals as well as the masses.
Soon, they embarking on a sightseeing tour like no other they could have imagined, and meeting a time-travelling stranger who takes them under his wing.
More than one person has a hidden agenda, as they realise when reach a highly protected secret location. It contains hybrid creatures on which the Gods of mythology are based.

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​They stood there staring at this marvel of transport. It was only slightly larger than a normal, luxury coach, but in no other way did it resemble one. Was it meant to travel on the road, or did it fly?
In structure, it was a gleaming, metallic bronze tube with rounded ends. Midway up the top section was a row of oval windows from front to back, but they couldn’t see inside.
The overall impression gained was of a futuristic craft, standing on four short, stout struts straddling the road surface, there being no wheels visible. Yes, this was the deciding factor: it had to be some type of aircraft.
To a gasp of amazement from the onlookers, two previously invisible door-frames emerged midway up, near the front and back. From each of them a single door seamlessly popped out and slid sideways with a hiss.
Ramps then extended down from them at a steep angle, and thumped as they made contact with the pavement. From the front ramp, Erdal descended to greet them.
Admiring his new craft, Erdal asked them, “What do you think of it?”
Graham replied with awe, “Amazing!” The others nodded.
Billy asked, “What’s it called?”
He looked at Erdal’s puzzled expression and tried to clarify his question, “What is its name?”
Erdal’s face brightened in comprehension, “Ah, we think we’re going to call it The Magic Carpet or The Turkish Express!”
John commented, “I quite like both of those! But Magic Carpet is more to my fancy!”
Wilf’s face lit up as he spoke, “I’ve got a much better name for it!”
Fearing the worst, Terry groaned, “Oh no!” while Wilf continued in a loud whisper, “I think it should be called The Turkish Floater!”
Terry bellowed in exasperation.  “NO WAY!” while Erdal’s face was a picture of innocent bliss.  He endorsed the name with enthusiasm, “Yes, I like your choice more! It best describes what it does!”
Billy, Graham and John doubled-up laughing, as the older women tutted.
Mary piped up with a frown, “What’s a floater? Why’s the choice of name so funny?”


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The Deaduction Agency
The Dreadnought Collective Book 4

Witness at first-hand a group of specialist investigators, as they set up and run a new, innovative crime fighting agency. They are dedicated to the resolution of criminal cases using paranormal assistance. This will be a new, innovative and emerging brand of policing designed to protect the citizens of our country.
Read how they deal with the anti-social, disturbed behavior of a wayward, divorced husband, who is on the verge of destroying the lives of his ex-wife and their two young sons.
Read how they identify the members of a murderous ring of pedophiles from relatively few clues, and bring them to justice.
Read how they move from ineffectively resolving one case at a time, and onto tackling multiple cases with far more beneficial results to society.
Read thereafter how they clear the penitentiaries of criminals, starting with the most dangerous inmates, using novel means to cleanse their souls of sin, and equip them for new roles in life in special clearing centers. The objective is to reintegrate them into society, rendered capable of performing straightforward tasks and genuinely purified, via the novel process of atonement.
Read how they find one talented young man who was lost, presumed dead, and reunite him with his family. Thereafter, as agents of change, they help launch him on the path to stardom.
This is not a simple, gory, two dimensional book, but an exploration into the timely use of mediums in crime detection. It can pay dividends in assisting the fight against crime.
They use the latest techniques and technology in a future world that is not far removed from that which exists today.

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​Richard and Honey sauntered across to the struggling pair, and Hugh instructed him, “Remove the handcuff-cord from my waist, and put it on the accused, one wrist only. I want his hands behind his back.”
Richard paused to study the new style ‘handcuff’ with interest; it was of a type that he’d never seen before.
“Is this what you mean?” he asked, holding up a single length of thick cord, which he had pulled off the belt. He noticed that it was highly flexible, and woven with glittering, gold-colored metallic strands.
“Yes,” Hugh confirmed, glancing over his shoulder. “That’s my ‘cuff-cord’. Drape it over the wrist I’m holding, then I’ll place his other one next to it.”
He looked at Richard, who was studying this new-style restraining device with fascination, and snapped, “Take your time, why don’t you!”
The man was making a ruckus like a hippo bellowing, and the front doors of the surrounding houses began to stream light as the occupants craned their necks to see what was happening.
Richard jerked out of his reverie, and complied as demanded. It was a wonder to behold, as the golden cord slithered like a snake around the wrist that Hugh was holding and then wrapped itself around the other that Hugh pulled roughly back, to join them in a single loop.
The two flat-ends seemed to fuse together invisibly as they met, to the fascination of Richard and Honey.
When Richard positioned the ‘cuff-cord’, he made contact with Jack’s bared wrist and involuntarily shivered. He had read his mind, and experienced the insensitive, mental brutality that oozed from him.
“What’s your name?” Hugh asked, allowing the man to straighten.
“Jack, Jack Lestrange,” he spluttered loudly.
Honey muttered, “Surprise, surprise!”
The Sightseers Agency
There was no doubting her anger; she was seething with it.
“Scumbag!” she hissed, picking up a heavy onyx pencil holder from her desktop and hurling it at her protégé. Adrenalin fueled her strength.
He held his head high as he strode towards the door. He had his back to her, and he should have been unaware of the object aimed at the back of his head. It could have killed him, but it stopped mid-flight and dropped to the marble floor, where it broke into sizeable pieces and cut into the surface.
He paused, turned, and fixed her with a steely gaze, which chilled her to the bone. Coming to her senses, she realized how vulnerable she was to her former employee if he decided to retaliate. The room was soundproof, the two guards outside unaware of what was taking place, and the man she had tried to assault could attack with impunity; he didn’t need to use visible, physical force.
The woman was Tara DiCaprio, an angular blond-haired, smooth skinned woman with a jutting jaw and athletic physique. She was in her forties, and her formidable presence was consistent with her role as a ‘Black Ops’ Associate Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.
The man who had antagonized her was special agent Richard Pencil, a tall, slim dark-haired man in his thirties who kept himself fit by practising martial arts in his spare time. Her anger was justified, and was the main reason he was exercising self-restraint.
Richard was a very special agent, as had been proven when he instinctively protected his back with an invisible shield. He knew Tara might attempt to attack him, having read her intentions.


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The Sightseers Agency
The Dreadnought Collective Book 5

The first recruit to the new Sightseers Agency is a remote viewer who actively seeks the resolution of events threatening world security.
Both his fledgling agency and that of The Deaduction Agency are members of The Dreadnought Collective.
The term ‘Dreadnought’ is based on a type of battleship introduced in the early 20th century, larger and faster than ever before and equipped entirely with large-caliber guns.
It applies in this instance because the cerebrally talented agents who enter its portals are expected to fear nobody and be scared by nothing in the performance of their duties.
They pursue those who indulge in criminal and seditious activities in the modern meritocracy using unorthodox techniques.

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To give you some idea of my background, I was born in 1944, retired in 2004 and now living with my wife in Spain, amongst the Spanish. For over 30 years I was in the computer industry, some of which were with IBM before I got itchy feet, even though I was well regarded. Afterwards, I worked as an Organisation & Methods specialist and came up with some cracking ideas before I moved into mainstream computing and became involved in programming, analysis and management.
At school, I gained a string of school level certificates before leaving and gaining a commercial apprenticeship, an Advanced Certificate in Business Studies, and professional qualifications in Personnel Management and the Institute of Company Secretaries and Administrators. During my time, I have used desk top publishing and spearheaded the writing and publication of two detailed, technical manuals, one of which was regarded as the administrative bible by a (then) major force, British Olivetti. The other manual was used by me as a resident teacher of electronic data interchange (EDI) for a specialist software house, where it was distributed as a tour de force.
I took up writing at an advanced age simply because I had the time and desire, and the first hand enjoyable experience of helping my younger daughter to tame her two mischievous boys.

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