'From Wildthyme With Love' is a very special Iris and Panda book, published by Snowbooks in November this year. It'll be available through the Snowbooks site and Amazon and the usual places.
YOU CAN PRE-ORDER RIGHT NOW!!
Here's an except -
This is the last time I ever listen to you. Bloody hell!
‘It’s a Bring-a-Bottle party,’ he says! ‘Oh, I bet the place will be jumping by the time you get there!’
Thanks a lot, my furry little pal. I ended up on a dead planet. There I was, all glammed up, clutching my bag from
the Offy, staggering through a mucky, petrified forest. I tripped over some horrid, dusty lizard thing.
Then I found the address you gave me. It looked a bit small on the outside, I thought, but I banged on all the bloody doors anyway. The lights were out and no one came to answer. You must have told me the wrong night, chuck. I was so brassed off I drank all the booze and left the empties lying around outside.
Next thing, I was quite pissed, but I bumped into a whole load of blond fellas who live in the woods together. They wear a shocking amount of blue eyeshadow and not a lot else. Anyway, we had a lovely time and later they helped me find my way back to the bus.
So – where did you say you were, lovey? And did you borrow my Time Scrunchy?
I told you – didn’t I? I hopped out in Paris, 1979. Rotten vintage, but who cares? I was feeling cooped up aboard the Number 22. Sorry my dear, but a little spell apart might be just the ticket.
Here I am outside our favourite bistro on the Left Bank. I’ve a glass of pastis and a splendid view of Notre Dame. And wouldn’t you know it, but I’ve met a very classy lady who says she’s in the art business. She claims to have pored over several of my critical articles..!
I’m popping over to her luxury apartment in the Marais this evening while her hubby’s out. She tells me he’s a proper Count.
Apparently he’s out of town a lot, trying to be in too many places at once and she’s feeling a bit neglected. Looks a bit like the top totty out of Space 1999!
Wish me luck, dearie!
I set the coordinates for Paris but went a bit off kilter in the Maelstrom, that mysterious region in which Space and Time are completely buggered up.
Upshot is, I ended up here.
It’s some kind of space city in the middle of a jungle of flesh-eating flaming plants.
LATER: Have found the bar. Full of space delegates. Some kind of conference, I think. Secret summit, according to the funny-looking fellas I’ve been sitting with. One in a jumpsuit covered in chocolate chip cookies. Another looks like a malevolent Christmas tree, but at least he got a round in, which is more than I can say for the Prime Minister of the Solar System.
They reckon they’re here for a clandestine rendezvous with evil alien robots from another galaxy. They’re such a tease!
You watch yourself with that Frenchy lady!
I did a bunk from the Countess. She had dreadful henchmen hanging round her pad. Plus, a roomful of knock-off art treasures and a very rudimentary time machine in the cellar. Seemed a rum set-up to me, so off I popped.
I’m in – of all places! – Putney. On the Common. Seems it’s the 22nd Century and they’re all going on about the Earth being invaded by something or other.
Anyway, you watch out who you’re hanging around with. You shouldn’t get involved in galactic politics and spies, you know. Remember what happened last time?
Must dash. There’s a flying saucer landing on the Common! Looks like a bidet. We’re going to lob some home- made bombs at it and defend our world against the alien fiends. Hurray for us!