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The Royal Wedding from Hell
The Royal Wedding from Hell
The Royal Wedding from Hell
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The Royal Wedding from Hell

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The greatest show of British pageantry is about to take place. Wills and Kate are getting married, and two billion people will be celebrating.

And an ancient evil is rising...

It is 2011. The world is in the grip of the worst global economic meltdown since the 1930s. Millions have lost their jobs and struggle to make ends meet.
Goddamnit, the world needs a party.
And as luck would have it, there’s a big one coming.
On Friday, April 29th, Prince William, eldest son of Prince Charles and Princess Diana and second in line to the British throne, will get married to his long-standing girlfriend, Kate Middleton.
Two million people will line the streets of London to celebrate.
3900 guests including heads of state, celebrities and charity workers, will pack Westminster Abbey for the service.
An estimated two billion people will watch the wedding worldwide.
A security operation, costing 10 million pounds, will be in place because nothing, repeat nothing, is going to go wrong.

But the forces of evil plan to turn the wedding into a bloodbath of untold carnage.

And only Harry and Pippa, and Wills and Kate can stand in it's way.

All the pageantry, all the romance, all the flesh-hungry beasts of the abyss.

It's The Royal Wedding from Hell.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 4, 2012
ISBN9780473218775
The Royal Wedding from Hell
Author

Richard Barnes

Richard Barnes lives in Wellington, New Zealand. He's been trying to take his writing seriously since winning a short story competition (judged by Iain M Banks's Editor and David Farland) and when he finds the time, writes sci-fi, fantasy and horror.

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    Book preview

    The Royal Wedding from Hell - Richard Barnes

    THE ROYAL WEDDING FROM HELL

    Richard Barnes

    Published by Richard Barnes at Smashwords

    Copyright 2012 Richard Barnes

    http://richardbarneswriter.blogspot.co.nz

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. if you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase i, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    ****

    Table of Contents

    Authors note

    The Royal Wedding from Hell

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    About the Author

    ****

    AUTHOR'S NOTE

    The Royal Wedding from Hell is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used entirely fictitiously.

    Let me stress (with some examples):

    John Key, the Prime Minister of New Zealand has not become a demonic beast, hungry only for fresh flesh,

    The Queen does not have a vault full of arcane magical artefacts beneath Buckingham Palace

    and

    The Duchess of Cambridge (nee Kate Middleton) does not speak like some slapper from Leeds.

    ****

    THE ROYAL WEDDING FROM HELL

    It is 2011. The world is in the grip of the worst global economic meltdown since the 1930s. Millions have lost their jobs and struggle to make ends meet.

    Goddamnit, the world needs a party.

    And as luck would have it, there’s a big one coming.

    On Friday, April 29th, Prince William, eldest son of Prince Charles and Princess Diana and second in line to the British throne, will get married to his long-standing girlfriend, Kate Middleton.

    It will be the greatest show of British pageantry since Charles and Di wed in 1981.

    Two million people will line the streets of London to celebrate.

    3900 guests including heads of state, celebrities and charity workers, will pack Westminster Abbey for the service.

    An estimated two billion people will watch the wedding worldwide.

    A security operation, costing 10 million pounds, will be in place because nothing, repeat nothing, is going to go wrong.

    And Prince Harry, the best man, has lost the rings.

    ****

    CHAPTER ONE

    London, 28th April 2011, 11:30pm

    Two figures in black jumped from the roof of the Falcon Point on the South Bank of the Thames. One was tall and solid; the other was lithe and svelte. They both landed, rolled and ran, avoiding the streetlights. In moments they were crouched in the shadows at the foot of the west wall of the Tate Modern Building.

    The dark, square shape of the brick-built, art-deco structure loomed above. The sturdy one gazed up at the building’s roof, only his eyes visible through the slit in his black balaclava. He pulled a pair of mini grappling-hook guns from his backpack and handed one to his firm-bodied companion.

    Explain to me, one more time, said Pippa Middleton, why are we breaking in to the Tate Modern on the eve of my sister’s and your brother’s wedding? Her voice was muffled through her black balaclava, but Harry could certainly hear every word and the tone it was said in.

    The wedding rings are in there, he replied.

    Well that explains everything, said Pippa, some people would think that we would be with the happy couple, helping to ease their nerves before they say their vows in front of two billion people. But no, we’re doing some kind of commando raid on a major tourist attraction because the best man has lost the rings.

    Harry looked his brother’s future sister-in-law in the eye and was pleased to see that her fury was all fake. Her eyes told him that she was having the time of her life. If we pull this off, he said, I guess I’ll have to call you commando.

    People will so take that the wrong way.

    The chimes of Big Ben echoed down the river, telling them it was half past eleven. Damn, muttered Harry, we need to get moving; we absolutely have to have the rings by midnight.

    Fire the hooks and let’s go then, said Pippa.

    Harry aimed and fired the first grappling hook. Time was going to be tight. He knew he shouldn’t have left it until Wills was in bed with his cocoa before setting out.

    Clarence House, London 28th April 2011, 11:30pm

    Wills took another sip of his cocoa and tried to read a little more of Bravo Two Zero. The words just made no sense; there was too much going through his mind. Maybe he should have taken up his father’s offer of a herbal infusion that would settle nerves and guarantee a good night’s sleep.

    Maybe he should go and speak to Harry. It seemed like a childish notion though, tip-toeing through the house to his brother’s room while wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown. But at least half of his worries were about Harry’s role in the wedding.

    He knew he shouldn’t doubt his younger brother; the days of Harry’s wild past were largely gone. There was absolutely no conceivable reason why Harry should lose the rings, or have forgotten to write a speech.

    It wasn’t about doubting Harry. Perhaps speaking to his brother would simply help settle his nerves. After all, Harry was the young man whose service in Afghanistan had been so admired and whose work with veterans was inspirational.

    On the other hand, Harry’s black satin sheets and faux leopard skin throw made Wills distinctly uneasy.

    Sod it, thought the second-in-line to the throne of Great Britain, everything is under control. Catherine will look stunning in the dress, Grandfather will not say anything out of turn and Harry has got the rings.

    He gulped back the cocoa, chucked the Andy McNabb across the room and got up to go find some fresh air.

    Tate Modern Roof, 28th April, 11:35pm

    I did think it was quite ghastly, said Pippa, looking through the skylight that ran the length of the building and down onto the sculpture that dominated the vast chamber beneath.

    You’ve seen it before? asked Harry, also looking at the object crafted from twisted steel and lurid strips of crimson rubber.

    Half of London has seen it, wandered through it and clambered over it, Harry, replied Pippa, It’s had queues across the Millennium bridge to St Pauls. People have been so determined to see that thing that they weren’t even complaining about the wobbling. It is by far and away the most popular thing that the gallery has ever displayed in the turbine hall. Have you seriously not heard about Renfield’s Metamorphosis?

    Should I have?

    Renfield was brilliant in his twenties, but locked away for his own safety since 1968. He comes out of a catatonic state to design a spectacular new art work, in between eating flies, and wows the world before committing suicide, said Pippa, it’s been quite a story.

    Can’t say I keep up on the art world much, said Harry, what I do know is that somewhere in that monstrosity are the rings.

    OK, I’ll ask the obvious, said Pippa while Harry pulled various tools from his belt and started to remove

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