BRETT ACTS UP ON THE PLANE (anyone surprised?)

Here's an extract from "BRETT ENTERS THE SQUARE CIRCLE" in which we find Brett actually settling into his seat on a jet plane, bound for Tampa -- on business, on this particular occasion.

Unfortunately, the supreme unscrupulous bastard himself sees fit to give everyone a hard time before the plane even gets off the ground.

It goes like this:

The flight would have been a lot more enjoyable and certainly a whole lot more tolerable if only the airline staff had been a little less pushy and unreasonable. The aggravation started even before the plane got off the ground, would you believe it, when this skanky-looking stewardess, who looked nothing like the sexy girls I’d always seen in the T.V. ads that plugged this particular airline, stopped alongside of where I was sitting, minding my own business as I sat quietly, taking in the various admiring looks my gorgeous mustache was attracting from various pretty young babes who were sitting nearby, and then the skank leaned in to me slightly and said something to the effect that perhaps my hearing was impaired, but she believed that she’d just gotten through announcing to all the passengers that it was necessary for everyone to fasten their seat belts.

Still in a fairly good mood, I looked up at her, gave her a sickeningly sweet fake-smile, and told her with a little laugh,

“Sorry, lady, but I don’t do seat belts.”

Then, as the moments crept by, and the tension increased, a guy dressed in an official kind of uniform joined the uptight stewardess, and offered his own opinion on the matter, telling me that he was “sorry” but that he must insist that I buckle my seat belt, otherwise the plane wouldn’t take off – not on time, anyway.

At that juncture, I laughed out loud and said to him, point-blank,

“I call bullshit on both counts: Number One, you ain’t the least bit sorry about insisting that I buckle up, and Number Two, the plane can still take off, irregardless of whether I’m following your stupid little rules or not.”

 Then, as it turned out, a passenger who’d been sitting a few rows behind me suddenly came forward and handed me a bunch of bills – several ones, but quite a few fives, tens, and twenties, I noticed.

 “Look, buddy, a bunch of us just took up a collection,” he began telling me, and I felt compelled to insert the required information that I wasn’t his “buddy,” but the guy continued anyways and said,” Look, would you just shut the hell up and take the money I’m giving you, and then fasten your damned seat belt, so the rest of us can get to Tampa sometime within the next twenty years? Think you can manage that, big guy?”

With a few short chuckles, I spread the bills out in front of me just long enough for me to see that there was well over a hundred bucks there, then my good humor gradually returned, especially when it hit me that I suddenly had the entire plane – passengers, flight crew, and everybody in between – at my mercy, so I then decided to snap my seat belt in place, leaned back, and said,

“Sure, I can manage that all right, and maybe we can do this again a few hours from now when the plane gets ready to land.”

     

The moral of the story?

Answer: Sometimes it really pays off to act like an unscrupulous bastard !!!   

In Brett's World, at least.

GEOMETRICALLY CHALLENGED?

Here's a little snippet from "WEDDING BELLS FOR BRETT" in which Brett addresses Densen and Pamela who are planning on getting married:

“Maybe after the wedding when you two are living in wedded bliss together on a tropical island somewhere in the middle of the Bermuda Rectangle -- who knows? -- I might decide to drop down by parachute and see how you two are making out.”

  “Bermuda Triangle,” the clown was stupid enough to mutter, so I twisted my face up in disgust and said,” Triangle, rectangle, same exact thing, ain’t it?” 





I know what you're all thinking: "Poor Brett! In a rare moment of civility, he actually suggests he might visit the loving couple after they're married, & that mean, rude Mr. Densen had to be nit-picking about the insignificant difference between a rectangle and a triangle."

Or maybe it's just a case of BRETT being BRETT ???

You decide!

"BRETT GETS HAMMERED" - (possible blurb)

As I attempt to put the necessary finishing touches on "BRETT GETS HAMMERED" (Brett Cornell Mystery #6), I've come up with the following as a possible blurb for the book:




The beautiful and alluring Tammy Rankin and her brother Andy were positively grief-stricken when their well-to-do father died of a fatal heart attack.

In fact, their grief was intensified when they realized that their stepmother stood to inherit his vast fortune -- that is, unless they could somehow suggest foul play and pin a murder rap on the woman, notwithstanding her probable innocence.

They obviously needed to enlist the services of someone who was totally devoid of any amount of scruples.

A perfect cue, then, for the entrance of self-proclaimed unscrupulous bastard Brett Cornell who -- as expected -- became instantly attracted to the prospect of getting his own greedy hands on a portion of the Rankin inheritance -- 

-- and on the lovely Tammy Rankin herself!





If all goes well, the novel itself should become available some time in June.

Stay tuned for further updates!


Dave

BRETT -- an EXPERT on MUSIC (YES!)

In addition to possessing stunning Adonis-like features as well as a full, bushy mustache that happens to be the envy of every man walking the face of the cosmos (in his mind, at least) -- BRETT CORNELL also happens to be an EXPERT on all kinds of MUSIC. 

(It's a little-known fact, but true, nonetheless.)

For example, take this little passage from "BRETT ALWAYS WINS" (Brett Cornell Mystery #3):

Cute little Paula Marshall came walking towards me in the parking lot, and she offered me a feeble smile when she came close enough to touch.

“Well, it’s done, I’ve got the money,” she announced, although she didn’t look any too happy about it. For my own part, I wasn’t exactly ready to bust out singing the Star-Spanish Banner either. For one thing, I didn’t even know the words, and for another thing, my singing voice ain’t exactly at the same level as Burt Baccarat’s or that Deaf Leopard guy, to name just two of the best country-and-western singers you’d ever care to listen to!  



Or -- later on, in the same novel:



 

“I was listening to my favorite FM station on my car radio,” Walter Marshall explained to the lieutenant, like this information he was about to give was of vital importance to us,” and the program which usually ends at seven-thirty was just drawing to a close. I remember, because they’d just finished playing Mozart’s ‘Jupiter’ Symphony.”

“Hey, that’s one of my favorite songs, too!” I exclaimed, laying the cheerful excitement on really thick. “But I do think his ‘Mars’ Symphony has better lyrics. Don’t you?”

And in "BRETT AEROBICIZES" (Brett Cornell Mystery #2), while he's on a date with Marilyn Dunford, there's this little exchange: 

“Now that we’re here,” she said in answer to the annoyed look that came over me,” I almost wish we hadn’t come. Anthony was always a sweet guy, but he was about as exciting as a Baroque concert played in slow motion.”

  

 “Watch it, baby: Baroque happens to be one of my favorite groups,” I told her, trying to get her to lighten up.

But does it matter?  ?  ?

Apparently NOT, when you're blessed with Adonis-like features & a mustache that's to-die-for !!

On a side-note: Do most people actually prefer Mozart's "Mars" Symphony to his "Jupiter" Symphony? (Me being silly, of course!)