hadley

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I have 445 stories published in 7 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 326941 times and 85 of my stories have been cherry picked.

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David Hadley

David Hadley lives in the Black Country, West Midlands, UK.

His writing has been published in several magazines in the UK and US. Many of his pieces have been Cherry-picked by the editors at abctales.com, including some selected as Story of the Week. (http://www.abctales.com/user/38640).

His books are available here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B005DFN62Q (UK) or here: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B005DFN62Q (US).

My stories

When She Sang

First, she sang me the song of mornings, giving the sun a tune to rise to. Weaving the words of the day around the early hours as the trees, hills and the day grew out of the morning mists. Then she sang us a love song, using up a few hours of the morning as each verse wrapped itself around us while we lay together, joined in the chorus of skin against skin.
Cherry

A Revolution In Competitive Cycling

Velodrome Creamcheese is probably the UK’s leading long-distance cyclist. Many sports commentators and travel journalists put this down to her innovative use of the Cheap Day-Return Rail ticket in her races. Many sports experts also say that it is the use of such tactics, up to and including the short haul domestic flights she used last year, that enabled her to win the Trans-USA cycle race. All of which has allowed Creamcheese to stay at the top of competitive cycling while at the same time eschewing the use of illegal drugs.

The Birthday Present

Then – suddenly – there it was! ‘Oh,’ she said as the smoke cleared. ‘Is that all you can say?’ I was a bit put out, especially after all the trouble I’d gone to. Eye of newt is not that easy to come by, not around here.
Cherry

Wildlife Sanctuary

Even so, it was not quite what was expected. Even the gazelle was more than a little put out and the giraffe went off for a sulk. The herd of zebras grazing in the conservatory were, the wife said, not their usual selves either. There was definitely something amiss in the whole house. Even the annual wildebeest migration from the front bedroom down to the kitchen and out across the lawn to their summer grazing area slightly north-east of the patio was far more restrained than usual.

Here be Dragons… Possibly

‘We're here.’ ‘What?’ Sir Gawain stared around the damp misty valley, then turned to his squire. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Yes, look.’ His squire held up the sat-nav. Sir Gawain clunked across to her. He was sure the constant drizzle was making his armour rusty, seizing it up slowly. His squire showed him the sat-nav screen. ‘Here be Dragons!’ It said.

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