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Pat Ritter. Books

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Fri Dec 12, 2014 10:11 pm

'The Proposition' - Page 155:

‘I don’t think so – it’s stretching my luck a bit too far.’
After a hearty meal, the next race on the programme was Queensland Championships. All through the meal everyone shared their thoughts and anxieties of knowing Peter Clayton would at last be found. Mary was excited and kept looking toward the parade ring to see if she could see her son.
‘Mary, Peter is driving ‘High Class Investigator’ in the next race. The horse is carrying number two saddle cloth.’ Bundy beckoned to Mary by showing her his racebook.
‘His name is not Peter Clayton – it’s Peter Peacock.’ She looked at the page and astonishment covered her face.
‘Obviously he used your maiden name instead of his name.’ Bundy explained. ‘They’re coming out onto the parade ring – look, number two white with purple spots and purple sleeves.’ Bundy pointed.
Mary gazed at the horses and immediately saw her son she hadn’t seen for more than eight years. Tears filled her eyes, she wiped them with a tissue, leaned over to her mother and said, ‘look Mom – it’s Peter – we’ve found him.’ She gave her mother a hug.
Each horse and driver was announced to the crowd as they left the parade ring to enter the racetrack. When the announcer spoke the words ‘High Class Investigator’ driven by up and coming Peter Peacock, Mary stood and clapped and told her friends, ‘that’s my son driving that horse’ and promptly sat down.
Each horse made their way to the starting barrier on the opposite side of the track. Bundy, this time had bought his binoculars, placed them to his face, focused on number two horse and driver. In his mind he saw the horse looked fit; actions smooth, whilst the driver calm and focused.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sat Dec 13, 2014 10:37 pm

'The Proposition' - Page 156:

Immediately he understood why Ralph had asked to wait until the finish of the race before telling him about the DNA test result.
Bundy swung the binoculars to the front of the grandstand where the trainers and owners took their position. He focused on Ralph and noticed he appeared nervous. A tall blonde girl stood beside him. Bundy wondered if she was Peter’s girlfriend.
Suddenly the announcer raised the alarm the race was about to begin. A trumpet blasted across the airways signalling the start of the race. The horses were to race a distance of 2600 metres. They lined up behind the mobile barrier.
Bundy kept his binoculars focused on number two horse as the mobile sped away from the horses. Number one horse took a position in front – that’s it Peter get in behind number one and stay there, Bundy said to himself. First quarter thirty-one three, the announcer’s voice echoed. Pace is good – stay there Peter, be patient. This was a major race and tactics were upper most in each driver’s mind.
Around the final bend and heading for home. Bundy saw Peter swing his horse into the passing lane at the top of the straight toward the winning post. Number one horse moved out under pressure and number two horse ‘High Class Investigator’ slipped through on the rails to win by two metres. He won!
The crowd cheered especially Mary and her mother; tears fell from Mary eyes, and hugged her mother and continued to hug everyone around the table. Bundy looked at Kate and smiled. It was a fine ending to a tough investigation.
‘Okay let’s go to the birdcage and wait until after the presentation to see Peter and Ralph.’ Bundy told his friends.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sun Dec 14, 2014 10:12 pm

'The Proposition' - Page 157:

After paying for their meals they left the restaurant and walked to the birdcage. This is an area where horses, trainers and owners place their horses in a stall to prepare for their race. It is a huge building covered by a roof and stalls in the centre and around the side accommodating stalls for each entrant.
All clear sounded by the announcer. Presentation of a trophy and speeches by dignitaries took place in the enclosure on the parade ring. Ralph accepted the winner’s trophy and in his speech acknowledged the drive by Peter.
After the presentation completed, Ralph led ‘High Class Investigator’ to his stall with a maroon coloured blanket highlighted with the words QUEENSLAND CHAMPION 2012 embroidery in yellow lettering.
Ralph was the first to see Kate and Bundy standing near the entrance to the stall. He instantly recognized Mary but didn’t know the others, ‘we won!’ He smiled. Following him close behind was Peter with the blonde female who Bundy seen previously with Ralph. They were holding hands.
Peter sighted his mother who ran toward her son, Peter let go of his girlfriend’s hand, swung his arms and wrapped them around his mother, ‘Mother’ was all he muttered. His eyes full with tears. They hugged each other until pulling apart said to his mother, ‘mother, this is Carol, my girlfriend.’ Mary threw her arms around Carol’s neck.
Bundy spoke to Ralph and told him the DNA test was positive and he was Peter’s biological father. After the celebration of renewed friendships, and the return of her son, Mary thanked Kate and Bundy for returning her son to her, safe and well. They said their farewells to all and left Mary and her mother with Ralph, Peter and Carol.


At precisely eight-thirty Monday morning Kate and Bundy stood in front of the Commissioner in his office.
‘Bundy and Kate –I congratulate each of you on behalf of the department for finding Peter Clayton – or Peacock as he now wants to be known.’ He shook their hands. Both accepted.
‘Bundy – what are we going to do with you?’ The Commissioner asked.
‘I need a rest – if you don’t mind.’ Bundy replied.
‘And you Kate – can you work without Bundy?’ He asked.
‘I don’t know. This was a great investigation and he is a ‘High Class Investigator’.

THIS IS THE FINAL PAGE OF 'THE PROPOSITION'. HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THE BOOK. TOMORROW IS A NEW BOOK. THANK YOU FOR YOU CONTINUED SUPPORT.
TO PURCHASE THIS BOOK CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/246166.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Mon Dec 15, 2014 10:38 pm

'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 1:

Each week in 2014 I attended the Pomona Writers Group. The facilitator asked us to write a story about a topic he chose. These stories less than 500 words are OMR (One Minute Read). I hope you enjoy reading each one.

A Blast From The Past


In 1903 my grandmother was born at Cunnamulla Hospital, her parents Hannah and Joe Ryan. Within a decade three more children were born to the same parents.
Birth of the fourth child, Nellie, Hannah died giving birth. Joe couldn’t take on the responsibility of raising four children under the age of ten and therefore gave them away to townsfolk of Cunnamulla ‘like a litter of pups’.
Relatives travelled from Warwick to Cunnamulla and accepted Nellie as their child. My grandmother never saw her sister Nellie again not knowing where she’d gone.
Throughout my grandmother’s life her thoughts always were on hoping to see her sister Nellie again. She never did. Although she lived an excited life giving birth to seven daughters with her husband Thomas, they lived a useful life together with love and affection.
My grandparents met shortly after the end of World War 1. They married and raised their family. Many years later my grandfather died and my grandmother remarried. She passed away at eight-three years old. Her only remaining wish to see her sister Nellie, this didn’t happen. She’d outlived two husbands and two World Wars.
My grandmother told me the story of her life and particularly about her father giving his children away after the death of her mother. She lived a tough life full of hard labour until she married my grandfather to raise her family.
In 2001 I established a website. To start the ball rolling I’d written many short stories and decided to post these stories onto my website. These were early days of the internet.
One of these stories I’d written about my grandmother for a competition, in this story I mentioned her mother dying giving birth to her sister Nellie who was taken away at birth.
Out of the blue one day, many years later, I received an e-mail from a person who’d said she read my story about my grandmother and she was Nellie’s eldest child. She’d been searching for her relatives over forty years. This was indeed a blast from the past. It had been ninety-nine years since Nellie was born.
After sending backward and forward information about our family background I satisfied myself this person was genuine. Through her research she located Hannah and Joe Ryan’s marriage certificate, his birth certificate and was almost at the end of her research when she read my grandmother’s story.
To say I was overwhelmed was an understatement. We’ve never met only spoke on the telephone and corresponded through e-mails. She is also a published author, so evidence must go back to the genes of either Joe or Hannah Ryan, our great grandparents, who had the initial writing genes. Now that is a blast from the past.
Word count: 463
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Tue Dec 16, 2014 9:54 pm

'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 2:

A Contented Man Can Be Happy With What Appears To Be Useless

On my journey to our weekly writers group I tune the car radio into ‘The John Laws Show’. He begins his session with music to raise the dead, and shares with his listeners ‘useless information’. This information is ‘useless’ according to John Laws but for a humble person like myself I find this information quite invigorating and sensible.
John Laws is an icon on Australian radio, a personality to rival no other broadcaster in the nation. He entertains his audience with wisdom and candour. His reputation goes way beyond any other broadcaster in the nation, at times abusing the listener for being a ‘goose’ or some other insult, and gets away with such comments.
I am one of his biggest fans. Personally I don’t know John Laws but after watching him sing on television when he was twenty-one years old, knowing at the time he suffered cancer, I have remained a loyal fan. His rise to fame presenting commercials on television, with his golden voice which seeped into the minds of each listener coaxed them to rush out and purchase the product. After all of these years he continues to do the same. His golden voice is his most treasured gift to the people of Australia.
The question is, ‘would he be contented and happy given out this useless information?’ My personal opinion is in the positive. I don’t think John Laws will ever retire from radio. What would his listeners do? What would I do for my daily tonic of ‘John Laws Show’? Many listeners agree he is an Australian icon.
From interviewing the Prime Minister to the lonely pensioner who finds difficulty to pay the rent, he represents his radio public. Some callers abuse the crap out of him, does he switch them off, not on your life, he listens to their argument and if he can find a way to help the concerned caller, he does so through his hand maidens and Princess.
Would he be a contented man and happy when providing his listeners with useless information? I think he would be contented. After hearing some of this useless information he delivers, I giggle at some of this useless information because it’s so obscure and ridiculous. His focus to entertain his listeners with useless information is part of his show.
If he wasn’t happy providing this entertainment to his audience why would he waste his precious time on radio each morning for three hours instead of being home with his Princess? He loves to entertain listeners with his way of the world, the way he sees the world through his eyes and his listener’s ears. Yes, John Laws would be happy and content with what he does.
Word count:466
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Wed Dec 17, 2014 10:12 pm

'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 3:

A Fractured Fairytale

Ever since I can remember from the age of four years of age, I always wanted to become a police officer, moreso a detective.
My wish was granted when I turned twenty-one years old and passed the entrance examination to the Petrie Terrace Police Barracks in Brisbane for training as a Probationary Constable.
After four months training my wish became a reality which commenced my fairytale of becoming a detective; first posting as plain clothes constable a dream working with detectives from the Licensing Branch.
My role to enter hotels and detect unlawful starting price bookmakers betting in a public place; this became my world. Success followed creating a place in history of detecting more unlawful betting than any other trainee.
After four months my identity became known to these persons and I was transferred to a western town as far from the city as possible to perform general duties in uniform.
My fairytale continued in policing and after a couple of years in uniform I rejoined the role of a detective in the Criminal Investigation Branch. Working in this field pushed me into some dangerous situations.
Seeking further experience I transferred to a country Criminal Investigation Branch and there realised my fairytale continued.
After nine years of investigating some of the most horrendous crimes, I received a promotion to Detective Sergeant-in charge of a Juvenile Aid Bureau in an outer suburb of Brisbane.
This position gave me an extra string to my bow to learn different part of investigation particularly with juveniles, children under the age of seventeen years.
Ambition became my goal to reach the rank of Commissioned Officer. My fairytale continued when I received a promotion as Sergeant First Class at the Police Computer Branch. This promotion enhanced my knowledge of computers which at the time were in their infancy.
To think nothing more could happened with my fairytale I was selected out-of-the-blue to establish ‘Crimestoppers’ programme for the department which became my baby. To think after twenty years service I was rewarded with receiving this opportunity to establish a programme to work with the community to reduce crime.
So successful became this programme I received an invitation to attend a Commissioned Officer’s Course to become a Commissioned Officer to make my fairytale complete.
Two days before I was to attend this course my fairytale fractured because of my heart. I underwent a pacemaker implantation to end my career of a police officer after twenty years service.
Word count:416
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: I'M OFF ON MY ANNUAL VACATION FOR THE NEXT EIGHT DAYS. MAY I WISH EACH MEMBER AND THEIR FAMILY A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND SEE YOU AGAIN IN NINE DAYS TIME. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT FOR 2014 AND MAY 2015 BRING YOU ALL THE BEST OF LUCK!
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby mzawf » Thu Dec 18, 2014 1:27 pm

:xmas :xmas :xmas :xmas :xmas :xmas :xmas
Merry Christmas Pat, to you and your family and friends, wishing you all a very merry festive time!
Wishing you all Health and Happiness in 2015

:dance
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sun Dec 28, 2014 1:07 am

Thank you for your kind wishes. We had a wonderful break and ready to get back into work: here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 4:

An Echo From The City

Brisbane National Show or the ‘Ekka’ is in full swing in our capital city at present. Memories flood back at the different times I attended the ten day event.
I couldn’t remember attending the Ekka early in my childhood, but I do remember going with my friend as a teenager. This particular night we waited to ride on the chain swing similar to a Hills clothes hoist with hanging chairs held by chains swinging wide and high depending on the speed the ride travelled.
Waiting for our ride one of the riders opened their mouth and vomit exploded spewing over the crowd. We didn’t get hit, luckily. Many did and the smell caused us to leave the ride and venture onto another.
Years later I worked at the ‘Ekka’ as a police officer finding ‘lost children’ returning them to their parents. We worked to maintain law and order; we weren’t supposed to enjoy ourselves. You’d be surprised to what a police officer got up to when his superior wasn’t looking or checked on them.
After retiring from the force I gained employment at the ‘Ekka’ in the office and there discovered how the annual show followed on from year to year without a hitch. This became an amazing personal experience because until this time I never had any idea of ‘how’ the ‘Ekka’ succeeded over ten days once a year to be such a success.
The following year I returned to the ‘Ekka’ to work over the ten day period and this time performed a different task as the one I did the previous year. This gave me another dimension of how the system worked.
I worked in the office the previous year my role to send out membership badges to members for the duration of the show, when each member could enter as many times as they wished.
My role this particular year became a position at the front entrance opposite the Royal Brisbane Hospital. Patrons either paid to enter the grounds or showed their membership badge. A game many of the young people attending the show began when a patron entered the turnstile, displayed their badge to enter the grounds.
This member then clipped the badge onto the side of his hat, walked to the side wall and threw his hat over the wall. This act was bought to my attention I recorded each membership number as the patron entered the grounds. The same number appeared; I confiscated the membership badge informing the holder it’d be cancelled forthwith. At least this stopped the non-payers from entering.
This occurred so many years ago. I remember as if this event happened yesterday. These memories certainly have been an echo from the city and will remain in my mind forever.
Word count: 467
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby dub » Sun Dec 28, 2014 7:58 pm

Wow Pat, as I progressed through your narrative I became convinced; when the scamming started.
That you where about to look the other way :-D
How wrong I was :wub
You back footed me there :joker
Great read! :thumbsup
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sun Dec 28, 2014 10:54 pm

Thank you dub. I had a job to do. Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 5:

And Then There Was Light

Earlier that morning the telephone echoed through my home. My wife answered the phone and returned to her warm bed, 'you're wanted.'
'Get your clothes on and meet me at the station.' The words rang in my ear. After dressing, kissing my wife good-bye I drove to the office my work colleague waited with the engine running.
'What's up?' I asked after we'd headed in an easterly direction.
'Oakey Golf Club's been broken into again.'
I didn't need to hear any more for my companion developed a sore head when awakened early. We drove in silence my mind filled with thoughts of not again, how many people; were they still on the premises; and if my companion would settle before we arrived. Darkness enveloped our vehicle only seeing with the headlights shining on the roadway.
Arriving at the golf club the local sergeant filled us in on the latest developments. The clubhouse had been broken in and alcohol taken. Footprints lead from the clubhouse toward a huge railway shed for storing hay. These sheds would conceal anyone.
My companion decided to leave the safety of the police officers and walk to the hay bales. My mind went cold thinking he must've taken his wrong pills before coming on this investigation.
Striding through long grass walking toward these huge hay sheds, darkness engulfed us. No moon nor stars to guide us.
'Why not wait until daylight,' I told him almost stumbling when my foot hit something in the long grass. He kept walking in silence. Closing in on the sheds stacked with hay almost filled to the roof, we continued.
He stopped. I bumped into him, 'watch where you're going,' he said and crouched on the ground, 'I'm trying to listen.' Silence fell between us only hearing the noise of crickets chirping in the long grass.
And then there was light. Almost immediately we sprang to our feet running toward the dim light on the other side of the bales of hay. Two men sat sharing a bottle of rum, 'we got away again,' one laughed and took a swallow from the bottle.
'Police!' My colleague shouted, we both ran toward the two men seated on a bale of hay. The one holding the bottle threw the bottle in our direction, both started to run but my colleague was too swift and stopped them before they'd gone far.
After arresting them the sergeant arrived to take them into custody. We returned to our vehicle. This time they didn't get away.
Word count:427
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Mon Dec 29, 2014 10:26 pm

Thank you dub. Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 6:

Confessions Of A Swan Upper

You may ask, 'what is a swann upper?' I'm pleased you asked because Edward IV passed this act in 1482, establishing how much land he needed to keep his game of swans, thus preventing ownership of swans by other people.
My particular role as a swann upper to capture each swan without harm. When the swans are gathered together, each swan captured has a ring fastened to their feet and counted. This became a yearly census of the number of swans in the river.
During the third week of July since 1482 this process is done by swann uppers. You may think it a little over-the-top but I share with you in 2009 on 20th July, Queen Elizabeth 11 attended the Swann Upping ceremony for the first time in her reign, and the first monarch to watch the ceremony in centuries.
You can imagine how excited I was the Queen attended, I almost wet my pants. Only three years later in 2012 the ceremony was cancelled because of flood being the first time in 900 year history. Actually, I didn't know what to do with myself.
With this pertinent information out of the way I'll share with you a story of how I become involved in this course of work. In my early youth I became a 'bit of a lad' or so I thought. With my friends we'd annoyed the swann uppers because of what they did for the monarchy.
On the morning before the swans are to the gathered for their census and leg ringing, my friends and I decided to play a joke on the swann uppers. We'd earlier caught a swan and dressed it in royal clothes fastening a crown to it's head. We'd teach them to take care of the swans in the Thames.
You should've seen the look on the faces of each swann upper when in amongst other swans one dressed like royalty. We took up our hiding place behind the rushes and peeked through to keep an eye on what happened next.
They called the blimey Queen's Guards, they did! We didn't realise they'd take their duty seriously. Anyway, not long afterwards, we were gathered up as criminals and taken to his majesty for justice to be dealt out.
After long deliberation between each party the decision made for each of us to become a swann upper for the remainder of our lives, and that my friend is my confession of becoming a swann upper.
Word count:421
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Tue Dec 30, 2014 10:23 pm

'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 7:

Famous Last Words

My father and I haven’t got the best father-son relationship. Many times I’ve analysed my feelings toward him and came up with a nil result. We’ve had this problem for the past fifty years and I doubt anything will change.
For a time I worked as an alcohol and drug counsellor to discover how certain behaviour affect different people, including myself. Did you know a person’s life is dependent upon how each child was treated from birth until aged six years? There are two options, one being loved and nurtured and the other being abused, sexually or verbally.
Analysing my life up to aged six years I saw my father as a hero, standing on a high pedestal. I would’ve done anything to please him. Unfortunately by practising this behaviour I became a ‘people pleaser’ not only to my father but to almost everyone. I couldn’t say no!
Growing through adolescence this behaviour of being a ‘people pleaser’ strengthened and I became very good at pleasing others, particularly my father. I would do anything for him especially when he arrived home drunk. I remember making him a boiling hot cup-of-coffee and watched him slurp the coffee to his mouth, then with the other hand drink cold beer from a stubby. I honestly thought this was normal behaviour.
Our relationship of father-son fell apart around this period, I don’t know exactly why, might have been all the times he promised to do things together and at the last moment he’d change his mind. Anyway, I left the family home to venture out in the unknown world to discover myself. I was fifteen years old.
I’ll never forget those famous last words my father used before I left, ‘you are an idiot’. At that moment I must admit I felt as though I was an idiot because I knew I was nothing else.
After five years of separation I returned to again live in the family home thinking something had changed between my father and me. Our relationship worsened. The name ‘idiot’ used more times than I care to remember. These famous words seeped into my soul thinking I’d never be anything else.
Lucky for me at this stage of my life, I’d reached the age of twenty-one and joined the Queensland Police. If I had previously had issues with my father these were minimal compared to the issues after I joined the police.
Like I mentioned I worked as an alcohol and drug counsellor, after I retired from the police of twenty years service. When I discovered my behaviour was a ‘people pleaser’ I needed to change. Over a twelve month period I worked harder than I’d ever worked on anything in my life to change this behaviour. I did it!
Now when I hear my father’s famous last words, ‘you’re an idiot’, I ignore the comment and get on with my life knowing I’m not an idiot and they were his famous last words, not mine!
Word count: 502
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Wed Dec 31, 2014 10:37 pm

Thank you dub for your kind thanks: Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 8:

Heavy Duty

In 1978, Mr Malcolm Fraser, Prime Minister of Australia visited our region. My role at the time a member of the Criminal Investigation Branch at Dalby, a country town three hours travel west from Brisbane.
How our lives dovetailed together became heavy duty to the most powerful person in Australia at the time. With other detectives I became one of the Prime Minister’s personal guards, wherever he went, so did a team of four armed guards which included yours truly.
Mr Fraser visited another country town near Toowoomba to open an exhibition. His personal bodyguards consisted of selected members of the Australian Federal Police never left his side. We, on the other hand kept a distance with eyes searching for any assassins.
Superintendent Byers, our boss, supervised all police during Mr Fraser’s visit. We met the Prime Minister’s plane on arrival at Oakey Airbase and escorted his motor cavalcade through the back roads to arrive at a small hamlet outside of Toowoomba.
Once the Prime Minister left his vehicle, he joined the local chairman and committee members; our role, to mingle amongst the crowd, keeping a lookout for any suspicious actions to be taken against the Prime Minister.
Amongst the gathering I estimated about two thousand people. At one time it became almost impossible to see the location of the Prime Minister when so many joined him to celebrate this occasion.
I remember standing among the gathering when Superintendent Byers came up beside me and asked, ‘where’s the Prime Minister?’ At the time I didn’t have a clue, however I saw a cluster of people gathered near the hall, ‘over there Superintendent’ and I pointed toward the gathering.
‘You’d better get closer because if someone shoots him you’re to jump in front to take the bullet.’ My mind went blank with thoughts jumping in front of the Prime Minister of Australia to take a bullet for him. I thought, not bloody likely, they can replace a Prime Minister but they can’t replace me.
I answered the Superintendent ‘yes sir’ and immediately lost myself in the crowd.
On our return to Oakey Airbase, Superintendent Byers led the procession in a marked police vehicle followed by the Prime Minister’s vehicle. We followed in an unmarked police vehicle close behind the Prime Minister’s vehicle.
Suddenly up ahead a vehicle left the road and stopped on the gravel shoulder. The vehicle carrying the Prime Minister stopped behind this vehicle. Mr Fraser alighted from his vehicle and walked to where the driver stopped on the side of the road.
Mr Fraser apologised for the incident, shook the driver’s hand and called out to the driver of the Superintendent’s vehicle which happened to be Superintendent Byers, ‘slow down, we don’t need to kill anyone.’ I smiled and thought karma. This was heavy duty indeed.
Word count:473
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Thu Jan 01, 2015 10:20 pm

Thank you dub. Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic - OMR - Stories': Story 9:

I Don't Know How Much Awful It Can Get

Last week my computer decided after a couple of years friendship with me to depart with a crash taking some of my work. At first I became alarmed. Now it was gone and I don't know how much awful it can get.
For many years my adviser tells me what type of computer I should have and this time was no different. Under normal times she'd build one to my design. Unfortunately this time her words, 'buy a new one' ricocheted through my brainwaves. My mouth opened with thoughts of I can't do this!
I needed a computer for without one, honestly, what I would do all day. I write and write and write, I'm not into gardening or house cleaning, all I do is write. You may say my life is dull compared to many other retired people but I love what I do and without a computer I'm lost.
Daily my task of posting information on facebook and other websites to market my books. If I let my customers down I'd be letting myself down. My decision to purchase a new computer became a no-brainer. Now a decision to purchase the correct one.
Where do I purchase this computer? I hate visiting those computer stores when a pimply teenager shows you disrespect because of your age. He didn't grow up in a world of no computers, only a wind-up alarm clock the closest comparison. We had no knowledge of what a computer looked like little wondering once we understood them, we totally depended on them to live.
So off to the computer shop and pray I'd be able to purchase one of my choice. Luck became my angel sitting on my shoulder when I entered the store. Lines of computers sat like sentinels waiting to be purchased. Pick me, pick me!
When I'm about to purchase anything I admit to taking the first one which is shown to me. This time a kind lady, much older than a pimply teenager asked if she could help. My thoughts relaxed to explain to this wonderful shop attendant I wanted to purchase a computer.
As if by magic a computer, a screen the size of a huge television took my eye, 'I'll take that one,' I told her and pointed to the one on the display table.
'Great choice,' she said, 'got the latest 8.1 windows without all of the bells and whistles.'
'Thank you', I replied, 'I only want a simple machine to type'.
After paying for the computer | was as pleased as punch. Now to learn the latest technology.
My friend installed the software which I'd been accustomed with and away I went to again rise above myself with a brand spanking new computer. This was likened to selling my old Toyota and purchasing a brand new one.
Eventually this latest technology has filtered into my slow brain and I must admit to become acquainted with this latest technology. Now I realise technology is not all so damaging to my mind, only the leap of faith to encompass this.
Word count: 523
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Fri Jan 02, 2015 9:52 pm

'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 10:

I Haven’t Had So Much Fun Since……

This may sound strange but the only time I do have fun is when I’m writing. Strange as it may seem, my mind is completely focused on the topic I’m about to write.
For instance before I commenced writing this topic I thought about the term ‘so much fun’. Thoughts erupted in my mind like fireworks sparkling crackers of thought through the maze of storytelling.
Endorphins spring into action giving me a calmness of happiness of what I’m about to write is fun, like taking a ‘happy’ pill which settled the mind. Thoughts scattered to form words and next my fingers are typing words generated from the creative side of my brain.
This is my type of fun, imagination to discover I can be anyone I wish, be anywhere I want to be, act a hero or villain. This happens in my mind and with these stories developed in my mind urges me onto telling a story.
We were always taught at school a story has a beginning, middle and end. It may sound easy when the teacher pushed this formula down our throats to settle in our minds, yes sounds easy to speak the words, another to actually write the words to make a story.
My time at school I remember writing ‘compositions’ when this formula adhered to the rules of writing. Next were ‘essays’ followed by ‘assignments’, all having a similar meaning to ‘compositions’?
Progression over the years of writing led us to become ‘storytellers’, write an interesting story for your audience to say ‘Wow’ or ‘Ah’ or ‘Don’t want to read any more of this crap’. On top of my desk I have a saying which I repeat over and over in my mind: ‘How Can I Make The Reader Devour The Words I Write’? This saying is my writer’s totem.
Storytelling has spread its wings from ‘composition’ to ‘telling a story’. Just like the storyteller who sat under the bunyip tree telling a story to his gathering of children, seeing their eyes light up like a Christmas tree, listen to their silence to hear how the story end. The heart of storytelling, to capture your audience’s attention and keep their attention until the end.
We all love to hear or read a great story and I love to tell one, or write one for my readers to enjoy. There is no better feeling than to have a reader provide feedback from reading one of my books to say they enjoyed the story. I know then, I have completed my dream of connecting with my reader and I can tell you its fun.
Word count:446
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.
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