Be careful of what you wish for because sometimes it just might come untrue
Be careful for what you wish for because sometimes it just might come untrue.
Betty Beasley, A.K.A Queen B, is a raving, self-delusional, pipe-smoking, bitch-boss from Hell who suffers from major delusions of grandeur. Queen B is the public toilets supervisor at Dublin Airport. Nobody is more dedicated to the smooth flow of human effluent than Queen B.
Queen B makes the mistake of sacking a cleaner who happens to dabble in black magic, and plays with voodoo dolls at the weekend.
Jokingly, Queen B chucks a fifty cent down her personal state-of-the-art Japanese toilet and makes three wishes:
Wish 1. Meet a man (any man).
Wish 2. Dada wakes up from his two-year coma.
Wish 3. Have one last chat with deceased Mama.
Queen B’s wishes come true but not how she had planned…
My ebooks @ ,99c this weekend. Please spread the good word about this wonderful turn of events. Exclusively @ Amazon…
Everest, son, remember when I told you that asking questions is a sign of weakness?
A few eagle-eyed Readers have noticed that all my novels are connected. This is true. My novels are connected by place and characters. All my novels take place, to more or less degree, in Old Castle.
Also, Readers who are paying attention will find characters from various novels mentioned or featuring as cameos in other novels. All my novels are interconnected and timelines crossover.
My objective in doing this is to make Old Castle a real place and the people who live in it more than just characters. It gives life to my stories and they can stand on their own.
People make places.
This is Everest, and he’s not a little porker.’ Dympna blushes. ‘Everest is in his, what they call Concertina Years. That’s what the scientists call it. At the moment, he’s growing outwards – his extended phase. But in another few months he will grow upwards and the concertina will be in its squeeze phase
‘A pipe? A pipe?! Your mother would turn in her grave if she knew she’d spawned a daughter who smokes a pipe! Your poor mama was a pure lady. Prim and ladylike. She smoked menthol cigarettes, now that’s feminine.’