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Incy Black scary? Just when Incy thought it was safe to come back on here? Oh come on dudes, hamster up. Seriously, we are going to have a little Halloween fun. But today is a special day. The release of Incy’s second book, Hard to Forget. What do you mean…ONLY…when she’s a best writing buddy? SO we’re not going to hang about. We’re going to welcome her AND the contents of her new hero’s pocket.zvin777lllliiii








‘Jack Ballentyne (spy/viscount/hottie/hard bastard/Josh Holloway lookalike) is flat out, an uncommunicative bugger. So, to gain a little insight into what makes him a man, I slipped my hand into his trouser pocket (front facing) for a grope about…AND SCORED! Oh the treasure, pure manhood…a survival kit. Tidy in a hand-sized (big hand) tin box…….


Lets flick the lid:zinctuuuu99999999iiii

Oooo…a neat little knife, a CRKT Ritter RSK Mk 5 Lightweight Survival Knife, to be exact,


handy for… well, cutting I guess. Maybe some stabbing, digging a grave, at a push.


And this? A condom? Jack was once an opportunist (randy bugger), but I assumed Lowry had calmed him the heck down. Now for uses—hmmm, a neat little skull wrap for when it’s raining in the woods. zi




Though, it’s a bit of a tight fit (and no, not attractive in the least—a dinky mirror is taped into the lid of the tin, so I checked and can confirm, the donning of a condom to one’s head gives an ‘emerging larva’ look.

And what’s this? Cotton wool balls? Well, I suppose a man must care for his complexion. “For bloody tinder”, snaps Jack, as I reach to stroke his cheek, just testing for silky smoothness… I couldn’t help myself. (I can confirm that beneath the three-day stubble, his skin felt lickable.)

Weather-proof matches,


  (yes, the heads have been dipped in candle wax. I need to remember that tip.

zinceeeeeeAnd I’ll used scented candles to cover the odours of…well, life in the wilds. Win-win.

Plaited parachute cord?…would never have pegged Jack for a closet finger-knitter. I notice he has a complicated plait of leather throngs tied round his rather delectable wrist, too—nice wrist, tanned, easily thicker than a thumb-forefinger span, light dusting of tiny bleached hairs where wrist becomes more arm, muscles curving, very touchable…sorry, I digress.


Coffee filters? Christ, the man likes his little luxuries. “Helps with water purification,” Jack growls…as do those tablets. “Oh, and here I was thinking those were for stomach cramps and PMT,” I mutter, not at all impressed at his implication that I’m a bit thick.

Super glue (for closing deep cuts, apparently), tweezers—not for his eyebrows, I suspect, though they are beautifully shaped, plasters (for those booboos when Lowry’s not around to kiss them better), alcohol wipes (well, I guess you could suck on them at a pinch, but it would seem they double for antiseptic and tinder). Dental floss? Seriously? Jack’s obviously got a penchant for cord, thread and restraint.


Oh, how sweet, a dinky little torch…and a whistle…didn’t know Jack was into music and laser shows.


An ugly looking nail, heavily taped with gorilla tape (bright yellow)…more bondage for Jack…shiny pins, needles, and a button compass. “I got one of those in a Christmas cracker,” I tell him, proudly, using the mirror fixed to the inside of the lid to check my lippy. “So with all that’s here, I could fend off the walkers, come the zombie apocalypse?” I ask, slipping the tin into my handbag—Fendi, very sweet.


“No. You’d need a fucking baseball bat for that…



and preferably a gun, rapid firing, double loaded clips.” He digs (roughly) through my handbag to retrieve the little tin box, I’d tried to filch. “Lowry made that kit up for me. It’s precious,”

he shares, somewhat rudely. And then waves a sweetly wrapped tampon (no doubt, found at the bottom of my handbag) in my face. “I’ll keep this. Useful for bullet wounds.”

On which note, I beat a hasty retreat. “Nice growling with you, Jack. We must do it again sometime,” I lie.


Jack Ballentyne, hard bastard-hero, carves a place for himself in Lowry Fisk’s life in HARD TO FORGET. No small feat, it’s worth noting, given he’d shot her, and deliberately secured her dishonourable discharge from the British Intelligence Service. Their tale is best summarized in two short quotes

“He didn’t want her trust. What the hell would he do with it?” Jack Ballentyne

“Protective custody? What’s that a euphemism for, exactly.” Lowry Fisk

Hard to Forget


Free, Full Chapter 1 available here:Entangled Publishing


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