You know . . . this guy.
He’s back, in a series of screwball novellas.

This go-round,
the cutie’s thwarting goofy skullduggery
sixteenth-century Europe.


* * * ..


It was a time of turmoil. 

A measure of social mobility was possible for the first time, with brains and pluck the key to advancement. Into the muck and the murk I’ve flung Sylvester Boots. He pokes his digits into many a pie, including a putrid Traitor’s Pie in Elizabethan England..

He and a rotating cast of nitwits

bully and bluff their way across Europe in a saga of misery and mayhem, filled with vibrant personalities including a Queen Elizabeth-wannabe monkey and a mentally unstable frog who believes himself an enchanted prince.
My sad-sacks deal with injustice, with personal failures, and with heartbreak. I butt in, discussing situations and making suggestions which are seldom helpful.

Meet (a few of) my goofballs. Right, top to bottom:

ELIZABETH I: Here she is at mid-life, I would say. Her face is a bit careworn.
JOHN DEE: Elizabeth’s Royal Astrologer, and a foremost mathematician. He believed he could talk to angels. So why not to a cat?
SLY, dressed as a sultan for a masquerade ball.
SHA-SHA, Sly’s sweetie. (Yes, she’s a monkey.) He runs into her at the English court–she’s the Queen’s beloved pet. Here she is as a harem-girl, partnering Sly’s sultan. They make a cute couple, don’t they?

* * *


What about my Puss?

(I call him Sly.)

Turn the virtual page.