Release Blitz – Sigil Fire by Erzabet Bishop


Out Now!
Grab your copy of this Lesbian Paranormal Fantasy by USA Today Bestselling Author Erzabet Bishop!



Sonia is a succubus with one goal: stay off Hell’s radar. But when succubi start to die, including her sometimes lover, Jeannie, she’s drawn into battle between good and evil and a past that isn’t ready to let her go.

Fae is a blood witch turned vampire, running a tattoo parlor and trading her craft for blood. She notices that something isn’t right on the streets of her city. The denizens of Hell are restless. 

With the aid of her nest mate, Perry, and his partner, Charley, she races against time before the next victim falls. The killer has a target in his sights, and Sonia might not live to see the dawn.

**Includes First Christmas: A Sigil Fire Holiday Story**



#FF #Lesfic #succubus #vampires #demons #witches #lesbian #paranormal #fantasy #romantic #suspense #strongfemalelead #alphafemale




Excerpt:

The dream wrapped around Fae like gossamer silk. It was always the same. The woman’s back was to Fae—shapely curves illuminated against the shadows, the stranger’s face just out view. They were in a dark and winding alley, with the back side of row houses and businesses cluttered with dumpsters and badly repaired fences. The area behind the shops looked ramshackle and smelled worse. A combination of rotting garbage and the reek of something far worse.
A sense of urgency pounded through Fae. She needed to find this woman. Needed to find her now.
Dark demonic wings fluttered in the background, causing the mystery woman to flee. Her skirts whipped up, revealing calves that sucked the air from Fae’s lungs.
An aura of silvery wings hung behind the woman, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. The alleyway grew disjointed—a true setting from a nightmare. The red of her hair was only visible for a moment.
“Help me!” the woman’s sultry voice begged, out of breath and shrill with terror.
Fae’s dream self darted behind her. Shadowy faces and writhing figures moved in the periphery of her vision. She stared straight ahead. She had to focus. To find the woman.
“Wait!” She reached out, but only caught the tendrils of mist that filled the void.
The air chilled as Fae streaked through the fog. A fractured scream echoed in the murky dampness. Seeing anything became more difficult. The swampy odor of decay made Fae gag but still she pressed on. Don’t look. Just move.
Fae panicked. “Where are you?” The need to find the woman was overwhelming. There was something important about her. Even if Fae didn’t know what it was—she had to find the stranger. With her heart racing, Fae kept moving.
“Stop!” A terrible scream rang out in the darkness.
Fae’s pulse thrummed in her throat; her fangs clenched in fear. Where was she? Fae’s footsteps rang hollow as she ran, eyes searching, senses reaching out for any sign of the woman. Around her the buildings changed. Cold concrete walls penned her in. There was only one way to go. Forward.
A dim figure loomed in the distance, barely visible against the mists. Large wings unfolded, the odor of sulfur and dark rotting things made her sour stomach flip once more. The sound of tearing clothes and panicked screams met her ears. Shit.
Fae snarled, racing toward the sound of sobbing. Her boots hit the pavement, puddles of water and filth spraying out as she ran.
There was the mystery woman. Long, red hair draped over the concrete, defiled by the refuse on the ground surrounding her.
A streetlight shone bright in the foggy night air, and Fae was finally able to see the woman’s face around the creature that held the woman prisoner in its grip.
Full, red lips parted in shock as the demon’s fingers tightened around her throat. With her wide eyes brilliant and dark against her ivory complexion, it was clear she was dying. Her gaze met Fae’s, a panicked expression of recognition, and as she looked at her attacker, fear.
Fae stepped forward. “Get off her, asshole,” she hissed, taking another step forward.
The being turned its head, empty eyes staring right into her soul.
“Fae.” Its lips tilted up into a satanic grin and he turned, revealing more of the partially nude woman.
Fae startled and took a step back. “How do you know me?” Her hand felt for a blade at her side. Nothing. Dammit!
Fae would have to try and save the mystery woman with only her strength.
Her fingers brushed the oily feathers of the demon’s wings, intent on pulling it away from the girl, but instead she ended up with nothing.
Dark laughter filled the hollow passage, and in a burst of noxious smoke, the being was gone.
Fae spun on her heel trying to see where it had gone, then moved back and knelt at the woman’s side. “Red.”</o:p>
“Find me,” the woman whispered, her eyes locking onto Fae’s. A delicate smile drifted across her lips as she, too, began to fade into the mist.
“No!” Fae’s heart twisted in her chest. Just when she had found her, the woman was lost yet again. “No!” Despair clogged her throat.
The shadows of the alley loomed dark as the streetlight fell dim.
***
Fae jerked awake. She lay twisted in the sheets. Her breath came in gasps as the dream faded, leaving her cold and alone in her bed. She had seen the stranger’s face. Finally.
Her dog, Jellybean, whined in the darkness and snuggled in closer, her furry black face burrowing deep under the covers.
“Red,” she whispered. “I’ll find you.”
Staring out the window into the moonless night, Fae listened as the wind whipped the trees outside into a frenzy. Something was coming. But so was she.


About the author:

Erzabet Bishop is a two time USA Today award-winning and bestselling author of paranormal and erotic romance. She lives in Houston, Texas and when she isn’t writing about sexy shifters or voluptuous heroines she enjoys playing in local bookstores and watching movies with her husband and furry kids.

Sign up for her newsletter for more lesfic reads and get a free and exclusive copy of Naughty Cookie!

https://erzabetwrites.wixsite.com/lesficandlipstick


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What is Three-Day Eventing All About, Then?

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Today, I’m happily turning over my blog to a good friend of mine, Jill Hughes, whose recent debut novel Spirit of Prophecy is taking the indie book world by storm. A mixture of the paranormal, wicca, science fiction and a good old fashioned murder/mystery, Spirit of Prophecy is centred around the rarefied world of three-day-eventing. Jill would love to let you know some more about this incredibly popular form of equine competition. So, take it away Jill!  
​In the equestrian world, the three-day event is seen, by many, to be the pinnacle of equine supremacy. Why would be this be so? Simply put, the three-day event tests all of the innate skills of the horse and of horsemanship by combining three equine events into a challenging series of obstacles that tests not only speed, endurance and courage, but also accuracy and temperament. It perfectly encapsulates all that makes horses and horse competitions so enthralling to both the equine community and the general public. 

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Three-day eventing and the horses and riders that participate in it forms the central platform of my debut novel, Spirit of Prophecy, with one of the principal characters Juliet Jermaine being the current Olympic champion in the Three-Day Event and her horses the focus of much of the action that takes place in the story. For this reason, I’d just like to explain how the three-day event works and give readers some insight into why it is such an esteemed event within the equine community.
Although eventing is extremely popular all over the world these days, it is and always was a quintessentially British sport. Like so many other sports Britain has introduced to the world, the students have, to a large extent, become the masters. The sport still has plenty of British champions, but the powerhouses of three-day eventing are now to be found in the colonies; New Zealand, Australia, the United States, Canada, and parts of South America. It is truly a world-wide phenomenon and incredibly popular, as both a televised and live spectator sport.
As hinted in the title of this piece, the three-day event is comparable to the human pentathlon or decathlon, in that it tests all aspects of a horse and rider’s skills, ultimately looking for, if you like, “the best equine athlete in the world.” Although some events are held over one or two days, in general terms, the event is performed over a three day time frame. It consists of three very different and challenging disciplines; dressage, cross-country, and show-jumping.

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​The dressage could perhaps best be put in terms of human endeavour. In many ways it is similar to a ballet performance, but one that requires the horses to undertake a series of predetermined moves, within a specified, enclosed arena. This is the only subjective part of the three-day event and a judge or team of judges awards demerit points for horses and riders that do not perform exactly to the laid-out requirements. Judges will be looking for balance, rhythm, suppleness and most importantly perhaps, cooperation and affinity between horse and rider. The basic idea of dressage is to show that a horse is not only capable of strength, power and endurance, but also can perform in a graceful, relaxed and precise manner. Demerit points awarded in this discipline are then carried over to the cross-country and show-jumping phases of the three-day event. The key to winning, for horse and rider is to score the lowest number of points. 

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​The cross-country is the most physical of the three events and truly tests horse’s and rider’s, speed, stamina, courage and endurance. Cross-country courses vary all over the world and are unique to the designers, but they all have one thing in common; they aim to offer the rider an opportunity to take risks or to play it safe. There is often more than one way of completing an obstacle in the various challenges set. Many cross-country courses are set in exceptionally beautiful countryside, which encourages spectators to flock to the event for a “family day out”. Two of the most prestigious and beautiful such sites in Britain are the annual events held at Badminton and Burleigh, both of which are considered “must wins” for a three-day eventer to say they are at the pinnacle of their sport. As with the dressage, cross-country is about trying to score zero points (that is, make no mistakes to incur demerits). The usual demerit points in the cross-country phase are, 20 points for a horse refusing a jump or running out of the obstacle area, without jumping the obstacle. In addition to this, the cross-country is a timed event and demerit points are added to the horse’s total if they fail to complete the course, in under the specified time, commonly, this is 0.4 of a penalty point per second over the optimum time. 

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The show-jumping phase of the event is usually held the following day from the cross-country and before any horse is allowed to compete in this phase, they must pass a thorough veterinary inspection to ensure they have not been damaged in any way by the gruelling cross-country phase. Like all show-jumping events, demerit points are awarded for fences knocked down (4 points), refusals (4 points for the first and elimination thereafter), and time performance (1 penalty for every second over the optimum time).
Finally, after completion of the three stamina-sucking events a horse and rider, with the least number of demerit points over the course of the event, can be declared the winner and proud owner of the title; “the best equine athlete of the event”. One reason why this event is so popular as a sporting contest is that it is still one of the few sports where women and men compete alongside each other as equals. Many of the top eventers in the world are female. 

Do, please, take a look at my exciting novel, Spirit of Prophecy, set in the exciting world of three-day eventing. You can find out much more about it, here, on my website. bit.ly/2LeRJ84
Well, there we have it – a fascinating insight into the world of three-day-eventing and Jill’s exciting new novel, Spirit of Prophecy – Thank you so much for bringing that to us today, Jill. If you want to know more about Jill and her work, do visit her website on the link above and even sign up for her newsletter, or conversely you can follow her on all or some of her social media identities listed below. This is an exciting novel – I’ve read it and I can’t wait for the follow-up. 

STALK J.J. HUGHES: 

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Till next time, have a wonderful, peace-filled day!
CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY!

EMBRACE THE OPPORTUNITIES LIFE PRESENTS TO YOU AND ALWAYS, ALWAYS FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!

HAVE A GREAT LIFE AND SPREAD THE LOVE!

CHANGING THE WORLD – ONE READER AT A TIME

Hot New Release from Erzabet Bishop – SNOW


Grab this hot new release in paperback or e-book!



Fairytales can bite…
To look to the future, sometimes you have to unearth the secrets of the past.
Snow longs to find a true love of her own, but when her father returns from war with a new bride, her carefully planned out life slips through her fingers. Her new stepmother, the Queen, harbors a dangerous secret. One malicious kiss sends Snow tumbling into a sinister landscape of dark desires and a new manifestation that can save her or destroy everything she’s ever held dear.
Darkness can hide the most sultry of nights.
Gideon and his men guard the king, but even they can’t protect him from his murderous new bride. When the castle falls prey to the Queen’s ire, they find themselves under the spell of the moon. Can they harness their new reality to protect the newest target of the Queen’s wrath, or will they once again be victims of her unholy power play?

#paperback #book #reverseharem #whychoose #paranormalromance #fairytale #snow #wolves #shifters #pre-order #kindle #bookishlove #bookgasm #eroticfairytale #romance #bookishdelights #booklife #reading #readinglife #booktopia #snowwhite #darkforest #magic #witches #wickedread 



One click now!




Excerpt:
The new Queen stood in front of the fireplace, her hand on the ties of her gown. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and smiled, knowing the King’s gaze followed her every move. It had taken her years to reach this place, to claim the blood-right her sister had stolen from her so many years ago. The King watched her with lust in his eyes, no different than any other man. All it had taken was some small manipulations and a lost battle for her to come to be in just the right place for him to save her.
He was a fool, but then she expected that. A pair of breasts and the opening between her legs would give her everything, but first she would take her time. Her body lush with the essence of her victims, she tempted him, and he had succumbed. Now all that was left was to share herself with the man who would be her future. For a few mere hours.
“Do you find me attractive, husband?” She loosed a tie and the dress fell further down, revealing more of her pale flesh, until it slipped from her lithe form, pooling into a heap of discarded fabric on the chamber floor. She edged closer to him, letting the glow of the fire outline her body in the dimly lit room.
“Come here.” He jerked her forward so she landed hard against his chest. Crushing her lips against his own, he fumbled with the opening of his breeches, taking out his cock. A chill blast of air slid through the room, and he shuddered against her.
“Is that your wedding gift to me then?” She pressed her lips to his and wrapped her hand around his shaft. “This hard pike?” She manipulated him back against the bed, knowing full well the power she held in the palm of her hand. She squeezed his shaft and brutally released him, shoving him back.
The surprised expression flitting across his features quickly changed to anger. He laid there, his member exposed. “You dare.”
She climbed on the bed, rubbing her breasts and body up over his legs until she reached his cock once more. Wrapping her fingers around it, she smiled as he moaned, all but moldable clay in her hands.
“I dare much, highness.” She mounted him and impaled herself on his cock, taking great joy in the gasp that sprang from her husband’s lips. “This night is only the beginning.” Her nipples tightened against the chill of the room, but with each thrust of her hips, she grew warmer, and her magic stronger.
“You…” He tried to rise, but she slammed him back down, grinding herself into the root of his cock. “Ugh!” The King groaned, his eyes fluttering as his body toiled, twisted in the confines of the spell she’d wrapped around him.
“Yes. I am all that you desire, in this life or the next. Spill for me, my King. I have need of your soul.” She ground into him, rubbing her breasts against his chest and kissed him, her teeth catching on his lip, drawing blood.
“No…”
“Oh yes. Fuck me harder.” She rode him. Deeper and deeper, her tendrils of power sank into his body until the slack look on his face betrayed his vanquished spirit.
“Foul bitch. I’ll kill you.” But the words rang hollow as his strength poured into her.
She laughed, her pussy tightening around his cock as she pounded him into the bedding. 
“Everything you have. Everything you desire, my King. It shall be mine.” She leaned down and gave his lip another vicious bite at the same time she lifted her body from his, only to slam down hard on his length once more. “I’ll take what should have been mine long ago.”
He came with a shout, his hot seed jetting inside of her, then slumped down against the bed sheets never to rise again, jaw slack, his head lolling to one side.
The Queen rose from his body, letting it fall where it may. She sauntered to the trunks that held her belongings, running her hands over the tops of several. “There you are.” Pressing a hidden lever, she opened it to reveal an overlarge mirror set in a gilt frame. She stood in front of it, the mirror revealing her lush curves and now even tighter skin. The cool chill of frost crept across the chamber wall and her lips curved up in a diabolical smile.
Beautiful. There was no one to compare with her. No one at all. Her red hair fell to her thighs and she ran her hands along her concave stomach and shapely breasts.

“Now, let’s see who is the fairest in the land.” The mirror panned to a young woman with long dark hair and plentiful curves. She saw her sister in the girl and her rage knew no bounds. “I should have ended your life on that night in the wood, the same as I ended your mother’s.”




About the author:

Erzabet Bishop is a USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author of paranormal and erotic romance. She lives in Houston, Texas and when she isn’t writing about sexy shifters or voluptuous heroines she enjoys playing in local bookstores and watching movies with her husband and furry kids.
Follow her on Twitter @erzabetbishop

New Hot & Steamy Release from Erzabet Bishop – Bound in Fire

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Now in paperback! Bound in Fire (Gibbous Moon Vol 1) by USA Today bestselling author Erzabet Bishop!
 
 
 
#Firemen, #phoenix, #catshifter, #witch, #familiar, #blaze, #dragon, #museum, #art, #fatedmate
 
Buy link:
 
 
 
What readers are saying…
 
“This is an exciting beginning to a new series. Would love to read more.”
5 stars
JodyL
“Another 5-star story, “Bound in Fire” by Erzabet Bishop with magic and a hot shifter that kept me glued to my seat & turning pages like crazy :)”
5 stars
Deb_Luvs2read
 
 
About the book:
The witch with the phoenix tattoo…
Isobel Fieri loves her dream job of working as an archivist in the city’s most prestigious museum. Well, aside from the creepy advances of her boss, that is. But when her mentor goes missing and a valuable exhibit piece vanishes into thin air, she knows something is very wrong. Bound by her desire to find answers, some really steamy flashbacks, and an attraction to a certain sexy fireman, opening weekend is about to get interesting.
He will find her again and protect her at all costs.

 

Roark Jameson has never forgotten the mate he loved and lost. He and his cat have pledged their lives to fighting fire, the very thing that took her from them. When he finds himself in front of the Remington Museum, he is drawn in to the mythology exhibit despite himself. A chance meeting will upend his universe and bring his carefully constructed world crashing down around him. Discovering his long lost mate here seems impossible, but when danger roams the hallowed halls of the museum, he must fight for her or lose her forever to the twisted web of fate.
 
Excerpt:
Isobel pulled away and rubbed her hands over her the sleeves of her sweater. “It’s no secret my parents don’t like that we’re dating.”
That was the understatement of the year if he’d ever heard one.
“No.” Roark snorted. He found himself thinking of the colorful phoenix tattoo that now held court on her upper arm. The one, coincidentally, that matched his own. She’d told him she liked the symbolism. A new start. Like the one they’d talked about when they got out of this shit hole of a town.
It was also her answer to his moment of weakness when his teeth had pierced her flesh during one of their secret assignations in the old cabin just up the road. He hadn’t meant to mark her, not yet, but he’d lost control of his beast, accidentally laying claim to his mate much sooner than he had intended. The tattoo had been the perfect camouflage, the bird’s colorful plumage working in the bite marks so if you didn’t know they were there, it was impossible to make out.
Only his nose told him the truth. Her scent had changed, albeit subtly, as his mate. His pack members would be able to tell, so they kept everything as close to the vest as possible.
She glanced toward the darkness of the woods beyond, her expression stony. “Mom told me they knew we had been meeting. That she and Dad hadn’t raised me to date outside the coven.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Isobel gave him a look. “They saw the tattoo. My mother was pissed.”
“Ouch. At least they couldn’t tell about the bite.”
Unconsciously, her hand trailed up to her upper arm, rubbing the tat through her clothes. “I tried to tell her this isn’t a passing thing. That you’re the one.”
He could just see Dayanara Fieri’s pinched expression after that delightful conversation.
“I bet she didn’t like that.”
“No. As a matter of fact she didn’t. Neither did my father.”
The knot that had taken residence in his gut twisted. He didn’t really care if they liked him, but if they made it hard on Izzy, that he did care about.
“Izzy…” He reached out to tug her back into his arms but she held out her hand.
“There’s more.”
“Do I want to know?” Roark ran a hand through his hair, afraid of what she was going to say next. Losing her was not an option. Not for him.
“Apparently there’s been an arranged marriage with someone in Jonastown involved in coven affairs. And as soon as I graduate, I’m to take my place and follow through with their agreement.”
Agreement?
What agreement?
God. She was still in high school.
“Izzy. You know that sounds insane, right? You should be able to choose who you want to be with.”
She barked out a laugh, fire dancing in her eyes. It was a bitter sound that cut him to the quick. “You don’t know the coven.” As she spoke, she cocked her head. “You were late tonight. Why?”
“That asshole uncle of yours held me after. Accused me of an incorrect inventory.”
Isobel shook her head, her fiery strands of hair cascading around her shoulders. “It was to delay you.”
Shit. He already knew that. The question was, why?
“When did you get here?”
“A few minutes before you. I had to sneak out of the house. The parentals were arguing. They didn’t even check the wards.”
“That doesn’t sound right.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Where’s your car?”
“I walked the trail. I didn’t want to take a chance they’d spelled it.” She moved away from him, lifting her face to the moon.
“Izzy…” He growled. She knew it wasn’t safe. Not for a female alone. Firestarter witch or not.
“We have to leave.”
“What?”
She lifted her face toward his, the ghostly light of the moon on her pale cheeks making her eyes appear luminous. She curled her fingers in his shirt and dragged his mouth down to hers. The sweet cinnamon taste of her lips brought their time together last Friday night to the forefront of his mind.
“Firestarter,” he sighed into her hair. What once had been a terrible nickname had become his term of endearment for her.
Roark’s jeans grew uncomfortably tight and as she molded her body against his, he let out a groan. But then he heard it, a car moving up the gravel road. He broke the kiss, struggling to shake the fog of wanting her that had taken over his body.
He had to remain in control. For both their sakes.
“Izzy, someone’s coming.”
“I hear them.” Her voice was cold. “Sounds like Rory’s old sedan. I knew it wouldn’t be long before they followed me up here.”
“Do you think they put a tracker on you?”
She shrugged. “It could be anywhere. My clothes. A spell someone brushed on me when I was at the meeting after work.”
He would go crazy in a prison like that. Roark ground his teeth in indignation. They had to be stopped.
“What do you want to do?”
“I want a say in my future. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“What about Wayfarer?” Her eyes were fathomless pools and when he peered into their depths, he remembered the unsettling encounter at Forbidden Ink. He’d looked up the best shops in a hundred mile radius and it was ranked as one of the top three. But what they both got when they arrived was akin to a fortune telling session with needles.
He would never forget the owner’s words when they walked into the shop and he asked to see the selection of tattoos.
“The Goddess picks your ink, boy.” The sultry, dark-eyed vampire considered them both and then pointed at him. “You. Sit. I’ll be with you in a bit.”
And she had. Hours later, after Izzy was done, he’d made an appointment to come the next night only to receive a masculine version of the same tattoo.
The woman…Fae, he half-remembered, contemplated him after she’d finished his ink. “Don’t be afraid to walk into the flames. There’s a reason why the phoenix chose you both, shifter. Just be worthy of her when the time comes.”
What the hell she meant, he had no idea, but if it pertained to Izzy he’d do whatever it took.
But now she wanted to leave to go back there? It was true the town boasted a higher than average shifter population and was home to Cirque Nocturne, but he had never considered that being the destination for their future together.
“Wayfarer?”
Izzy cut her eyes toward the road. “There. Or anywhere. We just have to go. Now. If  the Bradford Coven puts its clamps on me I don’t know what will happen.”
What she was asking him to do was nothing he hadn’t thought of before. Hell, he’d spent nights fantasizing about where they would go. Where they would live. But all of it hinged on her being older. Out of high school. Then he could officially claim her as his mate and no one could give them shit about it. She’d told him more than once that she’d love to work in a museum. There was a big one in Maberry. Maybe they could head there.
It was too soon.
But dammit he didn’t know what else to do.
She marched to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door. Sliding onto the seat, she closed it behind her with a jarring slam.
He darted to the driver’s side, his cat digging at him to hurry. Move faster. If the coven got their way, he’d never see her again. There was no telling where they were going to send her. But one thing was for certain. They would under no circumstances let him get anywhere near her again.
It was now or never.
 
 
About the author:
 
About the author:
Erzabet Bishop is a USA Today award-winning and bestselling author of paranormal and erotic romance. She lives in Houston, Texas and when she isn’t writing about sexy shifters or voluptuous heroines she enjoys playing in local bookstores and watching movies with her husband and furry kids.
Follow her on Twitter @erzabetbishop.
Links:

 

Independent Author of the Week Grant Leishman

A Reader Recommends

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(Pictured is Grant with his beautiful wife Thess and his seven step-children)

Who is Grant Leishman – Author? #IAOTW

Five Things you possibly did not know about Grant:

1/ In a previous life, Grant was a respectable accountant – What happened? Well you may ask.
You can read all about Grant’s journey to the depths of despair and his ultimate resurrection, in his fictionalised account of the life and times of a VERY naughty boy – JUST A DROP IN THE OCEAN – Heavily discounted to just 0.99c for your reading edification. myBook.to/justadrop

2/ In his next life, Grant pretended to be a journalist, for a couple of years, but when even his friends began walking the other way, when he approached them, he soon decided that career wasn’t for him.

3/ Finally, at the age of 52, Grant left Godzown country (New Zealand), for the tropical paradise of The…

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