The Adventures of Harry Marples: Harry Goes To Work

By Sharon Livingstone

Harry Marples has to go to work for a very important meeting. After forgetting to feed his cat, Harry realises he's also forgotten his keys. Can Harry beat the photographers and a brush with the law to get to work?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon Livingstone
• Release date: Feb 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9780994358233

Sharon Livingstone

Sharon grew up on the Northern Rivers of New South Wales, running wild on a beef cattle property outside of Casino. Sharon packed her bags and headed for the big smoke of Sydney straight out of school, working in a variety of jobs until she studied to be a Sports Therapist and Remedial Massage Therapist. In her early 20s, Sharon discovered solo travel was excellent for understanding her place in the world. She’s never forgotten the open spaces of the farm or life on the banks of the Richmond River and still heads into the bush to touch the trees, listen to the birds and watch the lizards and occasional snake to be inspired. Before she could write, Sharon narrated and cassette recorded an adventurous tale of some tongs, a dishmop and a pair of scissors. Her Mum loved it. Storytelling has been a part of her life ever since. Sharon’s first book, Red Inks, an eclectic collection of flash fiction, was published in 2015.

Book preview

THE ADVENTURES OF HARRY MARPLES

– Harry Goes To Work –

By Sharon Livingstone

Copyright © 2018 Sharon Livingstone

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9943582-2-6

Harry Marples pulled the door of his apartment closed. As soon as he heard his Siberian Forest cat, Carol meowing on the other side of the door, Harry realised that:

(a) he’d forgotten to feed Carol; and

(b) he had left his keys on the pewter dish on his coffee table where he’d put them when he arrived home the previous evening.

He reached for his phone to call the locksmith. He patted every pocket on his person, then he remembered that he’d been emailing his footy tips from the toilet, and put his phone on the basin while he washed his hands.

It had been that kind of morning.

From the moment Carol had leapt onto his bed at four-seventeen, prodded the covers, and Harry, with her paws and curled herself around his neck, half suffocating him under fur, nothing had quite gone how Harry would have liked. Optimistically, he’d