The cows are dead. Long live the cows!
I’ve noticed that quite a few people who read World War Moo are assuming there will be a third instalment. I guess that’s understandable, given that three is the thing (a trend also observable over the last few thousand years in certain big religions).
However, barring a drastic change of heart, there will not be a third cow novel. Yes, the ending of World War Moo is somewhat open, but that’s because I like open endings. I like to leave it up to the reader to figure out what comes next, to build new stories in their heads for the characters. Hell, if anybody wants to go off and write what happens next, feel free. I’d be interested to see where you think Geldof and chums end up, providing they avoid being fried to a crisp. I’d like to think they live happily ever after in a cave, growing their own herbal entertainment and foraging for mushrooms.
I have too many other stories in my head that need to come out. They will come, once they stop wrestling with each other for dominance, and once I find a way to silence the inner voice assuring me that my writing is shit and I may as well pack it in.
Anyway, even if I did want to write a third one, my publisher wouldn’t touch it given the pitiful sales of World War Moo. Readers of that novel are few, so, if you have taken the plunge, give yourself a pat on the back for becoming part of an elite clique.
So, there we are. Sorry if anybody feels let down, but the cows need to go out to pasture.
In the chaos of the ER, functioning without sleep is a prized skill. But even Dr. Angela Rossi will admit that five months is far too long. Then a dead nun speaks directly into Angela’s brain while Angela is holding the nun’s heart in her hand. “Find the girl,” the nun commands. “Save the girl.”
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me…or can they?
Veteran major crimes detective Kate Messenger has a problem on her hands: a family, slaughtered in their own home, with not a single clue or a shred of DNA that points to the butcher who killed them.
“Something is murdering my men.”
Celebrities are mobbing London’s laser clinics as a deranged wannabe bumps off A-listers, believing he can absorb their powers and become famous by taping their tattoos to his body.
Jill Ellington’s twin sister hasn’t spoken a word since she allegedly murdered her husband, and her three-year-old son is missing. No one in the small, idyllic town of Paradise saw or heard a single thing. Jill is going to need a miracle to uncover the truth.