User:Victorbennetttales/sandbox



Victor R.Bennett was born during an air raid and grew up on the bomb sites of North London. In the 1960s he ran with the street gangs, and his 1970s were spent marching to 'Ban the Bom' and becoming a union rep. Then the 1980s came, and Bennett became a business man and Freemason. He then spent the 1990s working in the leisure industry and five star private hotels. Bennett retired to the sound of millennium fireworks and moved to the Norfolk Broads UK to write about the diversity of the many intriguing, wicked, helpful scumbags he 'broke bread' with along the way. He writes about murder mystery and science fiction with a ripple of 'tongue in cheek' cockney humour. Now a Great-Grandfather Bennett enjoys the pain and pleasure of his large and wonderful family.

Victor Bennett, school photo 1952. The shirt, tie and jacket, which was several sizes too big, were borrowed from the school' photographer, who bought a large sack of second hand clothing for the kids to wear, and were returned as soon as the pupil stood up.

(Victor R. Bennett's father)

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My father was a bricklayer who lived at 8 Heather street Camden and came to London to work building St Pancras Station. Bob ran away to join the army and Fought on the beaches of Normandy, the deserts of North Africa and the invasion of Italy. He was awarded 6 medals for his bravery, discovered after his death, when his son asked him about his experiences he replied "there are no winners in war boy only widows, I just followed orders". He never mentioned it again. If his son had one wish it would not be for fame or fortune as an author but to go back in time and buy him a pint of brown and mild at the bar of his local pub.

Such indelible memories make us who we are, keep us warm and make us strong.

AMY IVY BENNETT

(Victor R. Bennett's father)

Two days after giving birth to her 8th child she was back in the local munitions factory helping fight the war. The matriarch of 13 sons daughters, in an extended family, she held the purse strings and managed to 'make do and mend' recycling not to save the planet but to clothe her kids. A large galvanized pot of stew lasted two days and the same pot would line all their stomachs with porridge to start the day. No one they knew had more than them so they did not 'feel' poor.Saving all year for a weeks camping on the East coast with as many as 50 members of the one family they certainly never felt alone.Her motto; 'look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves'. Her rule was do as I say, or I will tell your father, if you were too big to be told you were shown the door.

Over the years of being a successful business man from working for others to owning my own businesses in london, I brought up 7 wonderful kids. After retiring and settled into caister on sea in great yarmouth, i followed up my passion as a writter, and after years of work it has become very successful. living on the coast of norfolk i have become open minded with my stories I write, as a author my mind needs to remain fresh for ideas and there is no place I rather be then where I am now.

Children:

MARK ROBERT BENNETT - SON

JACKIE BENNETT - DAUGHTER

MICHELLE BENNETT - DAUGHTER

MICHELLE BENNETT - DAUGHTER

TINA JOHN - DAUGHTER

DARREN BENNETT - SON

VICTOR BENNETT JNR - SON

MY WEBSITE 

MY BOOKS:

The life and loves of lucky Jim

Jimmy Batten was born to fight. British Schoolboy Champion at the age of 12, unbeaten by anyone for 3 years. He turned pro under the management of Terry Lawless and again remained unbeaten. He won the british welterweight crown and the Lonsdale belt out-right. Whilst working his way up for a shot at the world title, in America, he felt unwell in the ring and did not know where he was. The local hospital gave him a brain scan. It showed 2 brain anurisms and a brain bleed. The doctors told him to stop boxing.

"What if I carry on?" he asked

"Then you will die," they replied. He decided to tell no one and continued to be hit by, and knocking out, the worlds best boxers. Taking the great Roberto Duran (hands of steel) all the way to ten rounds he narrowly lost the decision. When he replied to the ref, whilst on one knee in the ring, he could not remember where he was, he was sent for a second brain scan and the game, and boxing, was over. As this door slammed he took speech therapy to control his slurring words and acting lessons to go into film and TV work. When he could not remember the way back to his house he was diagnosed with Parkinsons. Another door slam and another he forces open. Profoundly deaf if both ears he takes singing lessons and buys good quality hearing aids and becomes a singer, compere and comedian. Now in his 60s he tours old peoples homes entertaining them with singing and comedy. His mantra in life is "You win some, you lose some, but you never ever ever give up"

''' The unicorn and his funny ways ''' Lexi Jane has an imaginary twin, Sofia Ann, and when she dreams they travel to the land of unicorns and fairies, where they have adventures with a green unicorn called Clive. Clive has funny little ways like their cousin Daniel, who mummy says is Autistic. Mummy said people who are bitten by the 'Autistic bug' are the same as the rest of us but with 'funny little ways'.

Billy Sollocks

Billy Sollocks had hit rock bottom. Living in an empty shop doorway he carried drugs ,and was paid in drugs and cold toast, around the streets of Great Yarmouth Norfolk UK. He was the first to see the helicopter, carrying oil rig workers to their platform in the North Sea, fly behind the dome of the pier and not come out the other side. It was the begining of a subtle invasion. When discovered the UK government assembled a team of police M16 asssasins and a the crew of a clandestine Uk space ship to fight back. The govenment wanted to legalise, and charge tax on all drugs. To that end they were slowly replacing the countries dealers with civil servants. When the law changed their network would be set up to take over the supply and demand without protest. Billy was caught up in this government change and his prospects improved when he me Sticky Vicky. With her drive, help, and secret government contacts he began to rise towards the level his parents had hoped for him when they threw him out on the streets to fend fo himself at 15

'''Only in dreams '''

When her boyfriends link to a suicide bomber was discovered she fled London. It was the same day she discovered his severed head on her car seat. Careful to leave no paper trail, she ran to the East Anglian coast. A very remote farmhouse deep in the Suffolk countryside, to study the night habits of the Barn Owl and Short Eared Bat. 3 months later something woke her. With out turning on the light she made her way to the night vison scope that was trained on the dark fields in front of her cottage. She scanned the ploughed fields right up to the distant black tree line. A blur of white, she scanned back and re-focused the scope. Standing still ,watching her home, was a clown. On his shoulder, glinting in the moonlight, was a long, bright, shiny, sword.

Skating under the ice

The laser red dot travelled across the darkened room towards the sleeping agent, and hovered over her chest. She rolled to the left. Two soft pops told her the CIA man she was sleeping with had now reached spy heaven. She already knew she had not enough time to reach her gun. A red-hot pain seared through the inside of her naked leg. The outline of the assassin could just about be seen as she reached for her gun, and the assassin re-aimed. Something fell from the ceiling and wrapped around the assassins neck, The crack was clear as the thing from above twisted the neck and snapped the spinal cord of the killer, then landed, softly, on the floor in front of her. She put 2 bullets in its chest, that lifted it across the room and slammed it to the far wall. 5 minutes she waited, naked in the dark, gun poised, but nothing moved. Turning on the bed site lamp revealed she was the last one standing. A large red stain covered the sheets on top of the CIA man. The assassin lay crumpled on the floor with only his neck skin stopping his head falling from his body. On the far wall a slim figure dressed in a one- piece ski suit with fixed helmet, sat like a frozen statue. Danni B, M16 number one killer, carefully lifted the helmet to reveal a mass of strawberry blonde hair. On each side of the unconscious bodies neck 3 slits pulsed, she had seen these before, but never on a human, they were gills.

'''Flight of the unicorn ''' THE LONE PILOT FELT THE INVISIBLE FORCE PULLING HER DOWN THE THE JUNGLE BELOW AND CERTAIN DEATH. SHE TURNED AND DIVED TOWARDS THE FORCE, AT THE LAST MOMENT PULLING UP TO THE SKY AND BREAKING FREE. THE CAMERA IN THE NOSE CONE SNAPPED AWAY AND WHEN THE FILM WAS DEVELOPED THE INCREDIBLE JOURNEY BACK TO THE UNDISCOVERED AMAZON RAIN FOREST BEGAN

Great East Anglian tales

On the wild mists of the Norfolk Broads East Anglia UK the swans start disappearing. When a tourist disappears they send in a gangly rookie cop to liaise with the Amazonian park ranger. They stumble on the answer and beneath 40 thousand acres of blue sky they fall into...... love

Great Great Britain Tales

On the wild mists of the Norfolk Broads East Anglia UK the swans start disappearing. When a tourist disappears they send in a gangly rookie cop to liaise with the Amazonian park ranger. They stumble on the answer and beneath 40 thousand acres of blue sky they fall into...... love

'''Great travellers tales ''' The wild mist of East Anglia UK start to swallow up the swans. When they take a tourist the rookie cop is sent to meet with the tall Amazonian park ranger, they seek answers in the swirling mists and stumble on the truth and love.

Honeycomb planet

In a world beyond imagination the human race is bred like battery hens in a world wide honeycomb 5 miles deep. Tended by Giant computers, and milked for their seeds and eggs, living in complete isolation. Linked only by video and holograms, their race is dying, slowly the age of death is getting younger. The master of the planet is an alien living in the molten core. A meteor breaks open a slice of the honeycomb to reveal the outside world and the truth for 200  units, free and terrified  the adventure begins. For a signed and dedicated copy direct to your door from the author click the link below

'''Tales from the greater universe '''

'''Great Great Yarmouth tales ''' What wakes a sleeping person is not the loud noises that are normal, trains, traffic, planes. But noises that are ‘out of place’. 44-year-old Wendy Franks heard the noise that interrupted the cocktails her and Richard Geer were sipping on a sun kissed beach. It was her washing machine. In times gone by, she would have nudged her husband and gone back to Richard Geer, but he was no longer part of her life. He was an off- shore oil worker who did not come home one day nor did a Swedish cook who worked with him. That was then this is now, she knew she had not left her machine on. Her nightly ritual of removing all unused plugs from their sockets made it impossible. But she also knew she had to go down and investigate. A serial killer had struck 2 miles away last month. She crept in the dark to the top of the stairs. Avoiding the ‘creaky stair’ she descended far enough to duck down and gaze into her darkened kitchen. The red light of the rinse cycle flashed in the tiles on the far wall. She saw a slight movement; was her back door was open?