Book Jacket

 

rank 3253
word count 76708
date submitted 01.02.2010
date updated 15.02.2010
genres: Fiction, Fantasy, History, Comedy
classification: moderate
complete

Robin Who

Andrew Fish

A time-travel comedy adventure that brings a new slant to the Robin Hood legend.

 

Robin Hood was a crook! But was he as good a crook as he's cracked up to be? That's what Erasmus Hobart, teacher of history and physics wants to find out. In this, his first adventure, Erasmus takes his time-travelling privy back to mediaeval Nottingham in his quest for knowledge. But with homicidal knights, amorous female outlaws and mischievous squirrels all proving an obstacle to his progress can he really get to the truth and still get back in time to mark 4A's history homework? A comic fantasy writer in the tradition of Adams, Pratchett and Holt, Andrew Fish brings a new slant to the classic legend.

 
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tags

adventure, comedy, douglas adams, history, pratchett, robin hood, time travel

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It was late evening as Erasmus made camp in the outskirts of Sherwood. Buoyed by the confidence his escape had lent him, he managed to fashion a crude sling from his handkerchief and killed himself a rabbit for dinner. Remembering that his knife had last been seen embedded in Deloial’s leg, he hunted around for a flint and then keened its edge in a stream before using it to prepare his prize.

All in all the day had been somewhat of a mixed bag: on the upside he’d found out what was really going on in Sherwood and he’d lived, if not to tell the tale, then at least to muse on it; on the downside, his time machine was in the great hall of the castle and he’d found the fundamental problem with Robin Hood was that he, as a time traveller, had managed to mangle history.

Chewing on a rabbit drumstick, Erasmus considered the options open to him. Just how flexible was history? He couldn’t prevent the mistake from having been made, but when would he need to act to repair the damage? Could he try to bring Robin round to the fact the Sheriff was duping him? Would that do it? Or perhaps he’d have to break into Nottingham Castle, travel back to a few minutes after his impromptu meeting with Gisburne and arrange a meeting with Robin. All in all, he wasn’t too keen on trying a solution that involved more time travel – not in the first instance, anyway. Until he had the time to work out all the possibilities, he wasn’t going to take the chance of doing even more damage. He could end up with Robin killing the Sheriff and usurping his power or he might kill Gisburne by landing on him Wizard of Oz style, and then what would happen?

The idea of telling Robin the truth, or at least enough that he would stop acting as an unwitting cat’s paw, definitely seemed like the best option. With that thought, Erasmus put a few more twigs on the fire and settled down for a good night’s sleep. He felt he’d earned it.

 

The morning sun was still fresh when Erasmus awoke the next day. His back ached from crawling through caves and his mouth felt so furry he wondered whether he’d remembered to skin the rabbit the previous night. He washed his contact lenses in the stream then cleaned up his camp, trying to make it look as natural as possible. To make doubly sure, he piled some stones neatly around the edge so that anyone who suspected the clearing had been used would think Marion’s band had been there.

Before he left, he took his bearings from the sun, then made his way roughly north by north west through the forest, carefully compensating whenever he had to take a detour around a large tree or an impenetrable clump of bushes. After a few hours, he caught sight of a road running through the trees to his left and he took this to be the Mansfield road, a clear sign he was heading in the right direction. He stopped briefly to lunch on some berries that were ripening early on hedges by the roadside but otherwise he kept a steady pace. By mid-afternoon he had reached the log where he had fought his quarterstaff fight with the giant.

He approached the log nervously, not because he was still uncomfortable with the challenge of crossing it – his physical courage was definitely improving – but because he wasn’t sure if there was a family of giants who monitored the bridge, or whether it was a prime spot for ambush dating back to a dispute between three goats and a particularly ugly troll. When nobody challenged him at the bank, he stepped on to the log and began to cross with long, confident strides. After nearly pitching into the raging torrent below, he moderated this and took what he hoped were short, confident strides in order to reach the opposite bank without falling off.

The autumn sun beat down on his back and created glistening rainbows in the haze above the river. If he hadn’t felt like a man with a mission, he probably would have stopped to drink in the beauty of the scene but, as it was, he didn’t feel he had the time, although that, when he considered it, was probably the daftest thought he’d ever had. Was there some magical deadline he had to meet, some point in time beyond which history would become so stretched that its elastic would snap, sending the events he’d learnt as a boy hurtling over the horizon? Should he expect to see King Richard, ransomed early by the Sheriff’s slush fund, tearing over the hills of his native England to strangle his brother John and force him to sign the Magna Carta? Perhaps he would see a squirrel, driven over the edge by Erasmus making a meal from one of his relatives, mastering the principle of the bolas he’d left stuck up a tree, and would return to his own time to find man was the slave of a race of six-foot, gun-slinging rodents with bushy tails and an irritating habit of springing out of dustbins every time someone was insolent enough to eat a cereal bar.

No, Erasmus told himself, get a grip – he knew from experience that squirrels would eat more or less anything. He’d seen them eat pork pies with the same enthusiasm as peanuts. He hopped off of the end of the log and scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. Whether there was a deadline or not, whether he’d already passed it or whether it was yet to come, he had to cast his dice now. If it didn’t work, then he’d think again and try something else – it was all he could do.

 

Erasmus tried his best to make no noise as he approached Robin’s camp. He had no particular desire to meet Deloial again at present, so he thought it would be prudent to find a place to observe the camp and get the lay of the land. A group of bushes afforded him good cover and a view of the path that led into the clearing, so he buried himself within them and watched patiently. He didn’t have long to wait: barely five minutes had passed when Deloial and Robin left the camp together, Deloial hobbling painfully on his two wounded legs. Their voices drifted over to Erasmus and he listened with interest.

Robin seemed somewhat agitated. ‘I’m telling you it’s too dangerous,’ he said.

‘You’re not afraid of a group of women, surely?’

‘It’s not that. How would you propose I explain it to the men? Robbing the rich they can cope with, killing the odd political dissident, OK, but slaughtering women?’

Deloial seemed annoyed at Robin’s attitude. ‘Those women,’ he said the word with obvious distaste, ‘have taken a vitally important tax shipment from under the Sheriff’s nose.’

‘He was expecting it to be taken.’

‘Yes, by us. Not by them.’

‘What does it matter? They’re only going to give it back to the poor. It’s not as if they’re funding their own monarch, is it?’

Deloial didn’t answer immediately: Erasmus imagined he was considering telling Robin a blatant lie and weighing up the consequences. Eventually fear of discovery must have won out and he shook his head.

‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘But you know what’ll happen if there are too many robberies. Prince John won’t wait forever before he clamps down.’

‘So we wait a little longer,’ said Robin. ‘That’s hardly a problem.’

‘And if they take the money again next time?’

‘They won’t.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘We’ll be ready next time.’

‘Will you indeed?’ Deloial almost sneered at that point – obviously his faith in Robin and his men wasn’t absolute.

‘Look. If you want to try and retrieve the money, that’s your lookout,’ said Robin, ‘but I don’t want them killed. Do you understand?’

‘Why ever not? Have you got a soft spot for them, just because they’re women?’

Robin seemed uncomfortable with the question, but he responded quickly. ‘Of course not!’ he snapped. ‘I just don’t believe in arbitrary executions.’

Deloial grunted and hobbled away from the camp. Robin stared angrily at the back of his head, one hand fingering his longbow, as if tempted to shoot the man in the back. After a few moments of gloomy reflection, he turned and stormed back into his camp.

Erasmus scratched his forehead. It sounded like the politics of duplicity didn’t agree with Robin. A rabbit scampered past him, making him jump and causing his heart to beat a little faster. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. When he opened them, he found himself looking at a dagger, lightly pressed to his throat.

‘Look who’s hiding in the bleedin’ bushes, then,’ came an unmistakeable voice from just behind his left ear.

 

Erasmus hadn’t really given much thought to his relations with the other outlaws: his fear of Deloial and his worry about Robin had put them from his mind and he’d almost forgotten about the circumstances under which he’d last seen them. It was a somewhat unpleasant wake-up call to be marched into a ring of sombre faces with a dagger pressed against the small of his back. Erasmus gave a smile he hoped was winsome, but he imagined probably looked more pained.

‘So you’ve come back,’ said Robin, somewhat unnecessarily. ‘Where did you find him, Will?’

‘Skulking in the bushes by the path,’ said Will.

‘Had you been there long?’ said Robin.

‘Long enough,’ said Erasmus. Robin caught his eye and Erasmus could see a trace of worry in them.

‘Ask him why he abandoned us at Fountains,’ Will snapped, pushing slightly harder with the dagger. Erasmus tried to bend forward slightly so the dagger didn’t actually cut him.

‘Why don’t you ask him yourself, Will?’ said Robin, a certain weariness creeping into his voice.

‘I’d want to see his bleedin’ face.’

‘Well if you put the dagger down and stood in front of me, you’d be able to,’ said Erasmus, with more confidence than he felt.

‘He’s right,’ said John. ‘He’s not going anywhere. Not yet, leastminds.’

Reluctantly, Will put his dagger away and Erasmus relaxed. The outlaw made a big show of walking round the teacher then brought his face so close Erasmus had to fight not to retch at the odour of stale ale.

‘Why’d you run off like that?’ he snapped.

‘Do you mind?’ said Erasmus. ‘Your breath isn’t very pleasant and I’d find it easier to answer if I could breathe.’

Will stepped back and put his hand on the hilt of his dagger. ‘Are you trying to be funny? Only, I can be funny too. I can cut you in ways that'll make you laugh ‘til you die.’

Erasmus may not have taught biology, but his knowledge of the subject put Will’s threat in some doubt. He decided not to say so, however, for whilst being cut wouldn’t make him laugh, it wouldn’t do much for his life expectancy either.

‘I left you because I felt it was the right time,’ said Erasmus. ‘I thought I knew what I needed to know.’

‘And now?’ said Robin.

Erasmus purposefully caught Robin’s eye. ‘Now I know a lot more,’ he said. ‘The Sheriff can be a very enlightening man.’

‘You been colluding with that bleedin’ scumbag?’ Will snapped. ‘I want to slit his throat.’

Erasmus was caught off guard by this remark. It wasn’t so much the incongruity of Will wanting to kill the man for whom Robin was working, but the fact the man was capable of using a word like colluding, particularly in a sentence with flawed grammar. Before Will could attempt to extract the information with a dagger, however, Robin put a hand on his arm.

‘I don’t think Erasmus would be stupid enough to come back here unarmed if he was working for the Sheriff,’ he said calmly.

‘No,’ said Erasmus, maintaining his eye contact with Robin, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘I think we probably ought to have a little chat.’

Robin nodded and motioned towards the edge of the clearing. The two men walked quietly away from the other outlaws, who looked after them with curiosity. Robin maintained his silence until he was sure they were out of earshot.

‘You’ve spoken with the Sheriff?’ he said.

‘We’ve exchanged a few words.’

‘And he told you-’

‘About you and Deloial, yes.’

‘And he let you go?’

‘Not exactly let, no.’ Erasmus felt somewhat uncomfortable raising that point: Robin could easily be under orders to kill anyone who escaped from the castle. The outlaw made no move to draw a weapon, however, so Erasmus allowed himself to breathe regularly.

‘Why have you come back here?’ said Robin.

‘To warn you.’

‘Warn me?’

‘Yes. You can’t trust the Sheriff.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean he’s playing you for a fool. He’s not interested in regime change – that’s just something he’s using as an excuse to keep you onside.’

Robin looked perplexed. ‘Who told you that?’

‘He did, of course.’

‘And he let you escape?’

Erasmus was beginning to find this point of view annoying: he had, to his mind, made a very daring and ingenious escape from Nottingham, with only the slightest help and that from a madman. Having it re-classified as someone ‘letting’ him go made it sound a great deal less impressive.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘The Sheriff has no interest in changing the pecking order. He’s as close to the top of the pile as he can actually get without being the King or one of his lackeys. All he wants is money for retirement.’

‘Retirement?’

‘Yes. Stopping work, settling down to grow begonias. You know the kind of thing.’

Robin had a completely blank expression on his face and Erasmus realised the concept of someone retiring from public life or spending part of their life at leisure was an almost alien concept. It might be difficult to earn enough to retire at the age of forty in the twenty-first century, but it wasn’t impossible and it was an aim that many people aspired to – although schoolteachers didn’t tend to be that optimistic unless they entered the lottery every week[1]. In this age, however, even kings tended to go on until they died, which made the Sheriff something of an innovator in employment terms.

‘What would you do if you didn’t go around robbing people?’ said Erasmus, trying to distil things down to simple terms like he had for Maude. It was amazing how simplifying matters for mediaeval minds bore so much similarity to educating twelve year olds.

Robin considered the question. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Probably work my land like I used to.’

Erasmus raised his eyes to the trees in exasperation. Above him, a squirrel looked at him sympathetically as if it too bemoaned the stupidity of mankind. ‘What if you didn’t have to work the land?’ he said. ‘If you could pay someone else to do that for you?’

Robin shrugged. ‘I don’t understand.’

Erasmus gave up. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘The Sheriff is using you to get money for him. It doesn’t really matter what he wants with the money, the fact is he’s not going to risk his neck getting rid of Prince John when he leads a pretty good life already. It wouldn’t be sensible.’

‘Then why would he want the money?’

This was, Erasmus realised, going to be an uphill struggle. In a land where luxuries were almost unheard of, certainly by the peasantry, the concept of wanting money seemed to be as alien as wanting a third leg. At least this proved the legend of Robin’s descent from nobility was either a fabrication designed to make the nobles themselves feel like heroes or there had been rather too much inbreeding for Robin’s brain to develop normally. He decided to try a different tack.

‘The Sheriff is planning to kill Marion,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘You heard Deloial: too many outlaws mean the King’s attentions are liable to turn this way. If John starts poking his nose around here, he’s likely to find out what you and the Sheriff have been up to.’

‘But he wouldn’t kill Marion,’ said Robin. Erasmus noticed a strange balance in the outlaw’s voice – it wasn’t uncertainty, but he definitely didn’t like the idea of Marion being murdered.

‘What if he felt he had to?’

‘I’m sure he’d just take Marion into his confidence – make her part of the plan.’

‘And if Marion objected?’

Robin shrugged. Erasmus looked at the young, careworn face. How old could he be? No older than his mid twenties, certainly. He must have been outlawed before he was eighteen – forced to take total control of his life at a stage when most modern boys struggled to decide which university to attend. That kind of experience might harden a man, make him able to keep himself alive and fend for himself, but it didn’t strip away all of the naiveté of youth. Only bitter experience could do that and that took time Erasmus simply didn’t have. There was only one thing for it: he’d have to speak to Marion and try to make her open Robin’s eyes, although he had no idea how that would work.

‘Look,’ he said to Robin. ‘Just be careful. Don’t tell Deloial about anything I’ve said to you and don’t take everything he says as being true.’

‘I never do,’ said Robin.

Erasmus smiled – obviously Robin wasn’t as poor a judge of character as all that. The Sheriff was a charming man, but there was something about the way he smiled that Erasmus could never have trusted. He’d seen that smile before – usually when he’d turned up late for a sixth-form physics class at the end of their final term. Fortunately for Robin, the Sheriff didn’t have access to a Van de Graff generator, three feet of cable and a rubber mat.

‘I’ve got to go,’ said Erasmus. ‘I’ll be back when I’ve got proof.’

‘Won’t you stay for a meal?’ said Robin. ‘We’d be interested to hear how you escaped from Nottingham.’

‘Will Deloial be back soon?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Then it’s best I don’t. He’s not particularly happy with me at the moment and I left my dagger with him last time we met.’

Robin reached a hand into the bush beside him and withdrew a sword. ‘Take this with you,’ he said.

Erasmus took the sword gingerly. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much with it, but thanks.’

‘Just think of it as a very long dagger,’ said Robin, then he turned and made his way back into the camp.

Erasmus adjusted his grip on the sword and took a practice swing. The momentum of the heavy blade carried it out of his hand and embedded it in a nearby tree root. Shrugging, Erasmus reached into the bush and pulled out another blade. This one was considerably lighter and came in a scabbard. He fastened it to his belt and made his way back to the log bridge. Marion’s camp wasn’t too far away – with any luck he’d reach it before nightfall.


 

[1] Erasmus had always found it irreconcilable that the school’s maths teacher could buy a lottery ticket on Saturday and then teach probability to the fourth form on Monday. It would be like him nipping down to Ladbrokes to put a bet on a meteor striking one of the Queen’s corgis.

Chapters

18

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Tod Schneider wrote 696 days ago

This is great fun, really nicely written. I appreciate the dry humor and you launch the story with such a great chase scene. Well done!
-- Tod
http://authonomy.com/books/40646/the-lost-wink/

fledglingowl wrote 699 days ago

Andrew,
Congratulations on publication. Well deserved. Love the humor and the magic privy, so much nicer than Dr. Who's transport. High stars.
Good luck on your writing,
Janet
The Milche Bride
Clarissa's Kitchen

iandsmith wrote 973 days ago

Well done, Andrew. Authonomy blog 'one to watch' today! So that's what I'm doing..watching it that is.

Burgio wrote 1472 days ago

This is a unique story. And a funny one. You have a good character in Erasmus. He's likable and sympathetic because he may be well in over his head having transported himself back back to medieval England. Writing dialogue is a strength for you. Love the accents. Bottom line: this is a good read. I’m adding this to my shelf. Burgio (Grain of Salt).

Steve.Tee wrote 1473 days ago

Beware the pitch invader!
Being Authonomy's #1 common potato and professional spam doctor, trust me, you must master the basic technique of saying “SHELVED!” as often as possible in order to grab the new members. That's how one climbs in ranking - gathering exposure though comments won’t help better your novel but it certainly helps better your novel’s position.

I’m not interested in your comments on my book when you get the chance; all I want is your shelf.

Love Sooty Max.

soutexmex wrote 1473 days ago

Reminds me of Bill & Ted's Big Adventure. I can go with the short pitch but the long pitch? Drop everything after the last question mark. Being Authonomy's #1 commentator and amateur pitch doctor, trust me, spend some time on your pitches; I cannot overemphasize how you need to master this basic sales technique to grab the casual reader. That's how you climb in ranking to gather more exposure and comments to better your novel. SHELVED!

I can use your comments on my book when you get the chance. Cheers!

JC
The Obergemau Key
Authonomy's #1 rated commentator

Keefieboy wrote 1474 days ago

Andrew: very clever, funny and entertaining. Shelved.

bigmouth wrote 1477 days ago

A genuinely funny book that would appeal to fans of Tom Holt, Terry Pratchett and Doctor Who.

Fish has written a clever and witty novel that manages not to be smug, a hard trick to pull off. The plot cracks along at a fair pace, is full of brilliant observations and one-liners and plays around with the whole time travel idea brilliantly.

I could see this having considerable commercial appeal as an ongoing series of books. Well worth checking this one out.

WendyB wrote 1478 days ago

Very funny.
Funny premise, witty protagonist, and I even like the English schoolboys.

I haven't gotten to Robin yet, but I'm going to shelf this so I can get back to do it justice later. I think I may read ALL of this one
Bravo!

Oh, incidentally...I seriously doubt that an English schoolmaster would drop his 'thats' in order to be more colloquial. You have it right. Don't change it.

Wendy Bertsch
(Once More...From The Beginning)

Joss64 wrote 1478 days ago

Backed with pleasure! Jocelyn Enid Morris (A Bore No More)

lynn clayton wrote 1478 days ago

Oh, an intelligent, hilarious, learned change from vampires. A mingling of two great legends. Brilliant. Backed. Lynn

yasmin esack wrote 1482 days ago

Dear Andrew
This is smashing! I loved every line and it's so clever. Hope you get a chance to look at mine. I was truly caught with the parallel universe and time travel thing.

Backed with uttmost pleasure

Francesco wrote 1484 days ago

Backed with pleasure! Good Luck!!
A look at Sicilian Shadows would be greatly appreciated.
Frank.
If you back my work, you may also want to approach BJD (a big supporter of Sicilian Shadows) for a further read and possible backing of your book.

lookinup wrote 1491 days ago

A time-travel privy - incredible - and Lady Godiva coming out from nowhere of all people. An enjoyable read, tops even Dr. Who I might think. An interesting spin on a movie. Backed.

Catherine (The Golden Thread)

Ulysses Q wrote 1512 days ago

Hey Andrew,

Read your novel - Good Stuff. Backed it and I hope you do well with the thing. A couple of comments - not that you asked for any - and certain that my opinion on the matter carries little weight - but feel safe in giving them as you appear to be located in sunny England while I am ensconced across the pond and don't think you will jump on a plane just to pop over and bop me on the nose. It feels a little slow, plodding. If you could quicken the pace - one possibility is divide the chapters up - make them shorter overall and - a step further - make them progressively shorter as you build towards climaxes and then letting them out again as you settle things back down only to build again. It's subliminal but it can help to create the illusion of a quickening just as the editing in a motion picture can change the rhythm of a sequence. Also the addition of a time element - I know the thing is chock full of time - something like a ticking clock - the countdown where, if things aren't fixed by high noon then history is mucked up for good - to motivate the protagonist and create a sense of impending danger. One way this could be achieved is have him carry around a little handheld device of his creation - some sort of history continuum calculator, or HCC, that gives him an up to the minute readout of how badly out of whack things really are and how much time he has left to sort things - kind of a timeline GPS.

The only other thing I'd like to have seen more of is the loopy circular logic of time travel physics - could be done as narrative asides between or at the head of those shortened chapters - a shorthand example would be the hitchhikers guide entries from the hitchhikers guide to the - well - you know...

Anyway - sorry to be such a bore with all of this but I wouldn't have taken the time to make the suggestions if I didn't think the work held merit. It does. So if after reading this you still feel like popping cross the pond and bopping me well - all I can say is - there's more than thirteen colonies now so you'll have to find me.

best,

ulysses

Jared wrote 1527 days ago

Andrew, you hooked me at ' time-travelling privy' - wonderful. I'm loving this. So much going on, a truly fantastic story-line, hitch-hiking squirrels - a riot. The footnote to chapter 5 - 'Tough on crime, tough on the courses of crime was the slogan of the day' made me howl. This is a book to keep at the bedside, a book to dip into in an idle moment, a book to treasure. I'm strongly recommending this - and I read a lot of books on this site - and backing it. Absolutely.
Jared
Mummy's Boy.

Andrew Fish wrote 1527 days ago

I've edited down the quotient of 'that's.' Not as simple as it looks because whilst all of them are grammatically sound (and, in fact, would have been grammatically necessary only a few decades ago) the tide of fashion has not rendered every instance of the word superfluous.

I've left in the 'in fact's (not really that many of those) and the 'you fool's. In the latter instance this is a spoken malaprop, much like Wodehouse uses with Ukridge (referring to everyone as 'old horse') and it's unlikely in the stress of the moment that Godiva would reach for a more extensive litany of offence.

erict wrote 1528 days ago

This is well done. I think that the edit suggestions are worthwhile - My comment is the repeat of You fools two para's apart in the first chapter, but other than that - spot on stuff.

ET

Nick Poole2 wrote 1531 days ago

Starts well, shades of Dr Who.

Ominous silence? Steps in shit. Something moved..?

Then hooves.

You do this well, I think. Lady Godiva?

Yep.

"Bloody peeping Alfreds"...look forward to your explanation of that!

Okay, only thing missing here is any real sense of danger. Erasmus doesn't seem genuinely concerned at all.

But your Alfred explanation didn't disappoint.

Bravo!! This will do well.

Beval wrote 1533 days ago

I have to say I agree about the "that" word, but having said that:-), this is such a lot of fun and full of the most marvellous jokes.
A privy as a time machine...who couldn't love it.
I like Erasmus as well, a great charater. I love his assumptions about the times he finds himself.
Backed with pleasure.

paxie wrote 1534 days ago

Andrew
Do you think you need the word 'that' in the examples below:-

He looked back to make sure (that) his time machine didn’t look too out of place........glanced back? you have looked and look on the same line.....?

affairs of the type (that) you would normally associate with rich

fact ( that )she was mounted on a chestnut mare

by the fact (that) they couldn’t look at Godiva

he realised (that) this was because it was, in fact, the wrong key.

Now that I think of it, the word 'fact' seems ever popping up........

Anyway, fabulous read....You have the same sense of humour as me.....I love the premise......Time travel novels hold no bars.....everything is credible, (in my view)...A racy read

Happy to shelf.... Good luck with this........

Richard Daybell wrote 1539 days ago

You have a dandy sense of humor and a fun premise to apply it to. Good, witty dialogue and interesting characters. Good luck.

Richard Daybell
Zombie Jamboree

Debra wrote 1540 days ago

What a great premise and blending of legends. Lady Godiva. Robin Hood. With a touch of Doctor Who? Hilarious fun! Best wishes!

Debra

zenup wrote 1540 days ago

Great cover and title, very catchy. Privy as camouflage for time travel machine seems 100% more likely than the TARDIS, haha. My feeling, in Ch 1, is that a tightening of the prose could help the humour, but ... fun idea & execution. Backed.

Jed Oliver wrote 1540 days ago

This is wonderful! Great humorous writing, and time travel on top of it! I must come back to it, but couldn't wait to back your story. This should go far, it is so completely entertaining. I really love your sense of humour, it is completely charming. I sincerely wish you the very best with this book! Backed. Best Regards, jedward (Knut)

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