Why I Wrote The Impossible President

When I first wrote The Impossible President in 2002, I was not trying to predict the future, nor was I trying to write a lesson in politics. I was thinking about young women pressured into prostitution because of a lack of hope. I wrote The Impossible President to encourage them to believe they can be anything they set their minds to, to change their circumstances and strive for something better. I thought about the women I had met, the women I had admired, and the women whose stories rarely find their way into newspapers, history books, or public conversations.

The longer I live, the more convinced I become that some of the strongest people in the world are ordinary women whose names most of us will never know. They are the women who keep families together through difficult times. The women who postpone their own dreams to help others build theirs. The women who return to education later in life because circumstances prevented them from doing so earlier. The women who survive loss, disappointment and hardship and somehow find the strength to begin again. Their stories are our stories.

When I created Tinuke, I wanted to create a character who embodied that spirit. Her journey is dramatic. She survives political upheaval, imprisonment, betrayal and countless attempts to push her aside. Yet she refuses to surrender her belief in herself. Tinuke is not based on a single woman. She represents many women.

As I prepared this international edition, I found myself reflecting on women whose courage has shaped communities, countries and generations. Some are well known, while others are not.

We think of women such as Rosa Parks, whose courageous act of defiance became a turning point in the American civil rights movement. We think of Wangari Maathai, who transformed environmental activism in Africa. We think of Malala Yousafzai, who continued to speak out for girls’ education despite an attempt to silence her. We think of Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, who challenged authority and fought for Nigerian women at a time when few expected women to have a public voice. But courage isn’t limited to famous names; millions of women support their families worldwide without receiving a plaque or recognition for their efforts. They just get on with it.

Recently, I was deeply moved by Yanuni, the documentary produced by Leonardo DiCaprio that follows Indigenous leader Juma Xipaia and her fight to protect her people and the Amazon rainforest despite threats, political opposition and personal risk. Her story takes place thousands of miles from Nigeria, yet the determination at its centre feels familiar. It is the determination of someone who refuses to be intimidated into silence.

That determination is everywhere. You find it among women across Africa, Europe, Asia, the Middle East, the Americas, and beyond. It is found among women who build businesses, teach children, care for families, lead communities, challenge injustice and create change in ways that are often overlooked.

This new edition is dedicated to my husband, John, whose encouragement inspired me to reconsider the women behind this story, those who make history and those who make life possible. The women who dared. The women who stayed. The women who never gave up.

Above all, this book is dedicated to women and girls everywhere. To the girl who wants to go to school. To the girl who dreams of becoming a doctor, teacher, writer, scientist, entrepreneur, or leader. To the woman rebuilding her life after violence or loss. To the woman determined to live free from fear. To the woman who has been told she cannot but chooses to try anyway.

The title is The Impossible President. But the book’s true message has never been about politics. It has always been about possibility. I hope that somewhere, a young reader will close this book and see her own future differently. I hope she will understand that other people’s expectations need not determine the course of her life.

And I hope she will remember that many of the achievements we now take for granted once seemed impossible.

To my friends and readers around the world, much love, always! 🙂

Four Days Until The Impossible President.

Posing with The Impossible President today. I took the picture myself, so the title looks the way it does! 🙂

I haven’t posted here for a while, partly because life has been unusually busy. Between work, publishing, and my PhD research, the months seem to have folded into one another and disappeared before I had noticed. Oct 14th was also my birthday, which made me reflective, as birthdays tend to do.

The older I get, the less interested I am in chasing time and the more I value using it well. None of us knows how much time we have left. What matters, I think, is what we choose to do with it; the questions we consider worth asking, the work we commit to, and the things we leave behind when the projects are finished, and the noise has gone, replaced by a poignant silence.

That thought feels especially relevant this week, as Arrow Gate Publishing will release a new edition of The Impossible President on Tuesday 20 October. The novel was first published in Nigeria in 2002 and republished in Abuja in 2004. More than two decades later, it is finally being published for readers in the United Kingdom and internationally.

Yes, I’m writing it twice now. The Impossible President comes out on Tuesday, 20 October. I’m excited, and a little emotional, if I’m honest. Twenty-four years ago, I wrote this book in Nigeria. Next week it will be published in the country where I now live, love, teach and conduct my research. As someone whose life has been shaped by both Nigeria and Britain, I find myself thinking about that journey more than I expected.

Signing the early readers’ review today. Already posted!

I have lived with this book for a long time. It has a story behind it, and it’s linked to my PhD research. Perhaps that is why seeing it take on a new life feels different from publishing something entirely new. A new book arrives with possibility. An older book returns, carrying its history. It reminds you where you were when you wrote it, what concerned you then, and which questions seemed important enough to spend years on.

The question at the centre of The Impossible President was simple – what would it take for a woman to become president of Nigeria? And I’m not talking about it in theory, or symbolically, or because a speechwriter thought it would make a good campaign slogan.

What would it actually take?

Nigeria celebrated sixty-six years of independence on 1 October. Over those sixty-six years, no woman has served as president or vice president. That fact stayed with me when I first wrote the novel and still does today. I once asked my mum why, and she gave a short laugh and said, “Men are always afraid of a strong woman.” What she said was debatable, but it may have some truth.

This brings me to this year’s Black History Month theme in the United Kingdom: Honouring Our Communities. I have repeatedly returned to the relationship between history and visibility. Communities are not built by famous people alone. They are sustained by countless others whose names seldom appear in public records. Teachers, campaigners, carers, organisers, checkout operators, and community leaders often leave behind profound legacies while receiving very little recognition beyond the circles directly affected by their work.

My doctoral research at London Metropolitan University focuses on women of the ancient Benin Kingdom. I have immersed myself in the stories of women whose economic and cultural influence was significant, and whose presence in historical records is often fragmented or incomplete. The evidence is there, but their stories are frequently overshadowed by the men who occupy centre stage. Research changes how you see things; perspectives are fluid and constantly evolving, and I now see things differently. Once you begin noticing who has been omitted from historical narratives, you begin to notice absences elsewhere too.

Many years ago, I became increasingly aware of accounts of young women from Edo State (Nigeria) being trafficked through routes that led to Italy. At the same time, Chief Mrs Amina Titi Atiku Abubakar and her organisation, WOTCLEF, helped force the issue into Nigeria’s national consciousness. Their work helped create NAPTIP in 2003, giving Nigeria a federal agency dedicated to combating human trafficking. I dedicated The Impossible President to her because I believed then, and still believe now, that some of the most important changes in society happen because individuals decide that something unacceptable can no longer be ignored.

Tinuke, the novel’s protagonist, is not a real person, but she did not emerge from nowhere. She was shaped by the many women whose stories I encountered, by women whose achievements have been documented and by women whose contributions survive only in memory. Like all fictional characters, she is an invention. Unlike many fictional characters, however, she was built from realities that already existed.

What continues to interest me is that the question posed by the novel is not uniquely Nigerian. According to figures published by UN Women and the Inter-Parliamentary Union, only 28 countries in the world are currently led by a woman head of state or government, while more than one hundred have never had one. In Africa, only two countries currently have a woman president. Nigeria is not unusual in waiting for that milestone. It is simply one of many nations still waiting. The United States has never had a woman president either.

For that reason, the novel feels no less relevant now than it did when it first appeared.

Readers approaching The Impossible President as a thriller will find political manoeuvring, betrayals, corruption, violence, ambition and people willing to sacrifice almost anything to retain power. Those elements are certainly there. What interested me most as a writer, however, was the question underneath the plot: who is considered fit to lead, who gets shut out, and what happens when someone refuses to accept those limitations?

Sam Martin described the novel as “fierce, authentic, unforgettable”. Abbie Headon called it “a powerful and action-packed story of love, courage, and endurance”. I am grateful to both of them for reading the book so generously.

I am equally grateful to all of you who have continued to read this blog over the years. Some of you have been here since the early days; I started blogging in 2012, and I have made thousands of friends all around the world. While others arrived more recently. Either way, thank you for staying with me. I’ll visit and read more of your articles whenever I can.

The Impossible President is published on Tuesday, 20 October, by Arrow Gate Publishing. If the questions raised here interest you, I hope you will read it and tell me what you think. If you’re interested in a PDF, a proof copy, or the paperback, please let me know. If you do read it, please leave a review when you can.

You can preorder here: Arrow Gate Stores, Amazon UK, Waterstones, Bookshop.org and wherever books are sold.

Stay safe wherever you are in the world, and much love, always! 🙂

Dreams and Realities

Unveiling the Mysterious Tale of Hugo Swann: Dreams That Haunt and Reality That Terrifies.

In this gripping mystery written by C.D. Fox, the author presents a haunting tale of suspense set against the backdrop of Oxford University. This gripping thriller plunges readers into the unsettling journey of Hugo Swann, the son of a renowned psychiatrist, a shy and introverted student struggling to find his place in an unfamiliar environment.  Hugo’s life takes an unexpected turn when he finds love and delves into uncharted territories, only to be besieged by a relentless string of unsettling dreams that threaten his sanity.

Hugo grapples with his own inner demons while seeking solace in the arms of a new girlfriend, Alice and embracing new experiences. However, as his dreams intensify, Hugo’s path intersects with a mysterious woman, haunted by a troubled past, who seeks psychiatric treatment from his own father. 

Little does Hugo know that this encounter will plunge him deeper into a nightmarish abyss. As the veil between dreams and reality becomes increasingly blurred, Hugo finds himself in desperate need of psychiatric assessment, unable to distinguish between the sinister occurrences plaguing his sleep and the waking world. In a race against time, Alice embarks on a heart-pounding quest to uncover the truth. But as she unravels the mysteries surrounding Hugo’s plight, she discovers a shocking truth. Will Hugo be willing to confront the terrifying reality that awaits him?

“Dreams” is a masterful blend of mystery, thriller, and suspense that will captivate readers from the first page to the last. C.D. Fox weaves a spellbinding narrative, delving deep into the darkest recesses of the human mind, leaving readers spellbound and questioning the limits of perception.

Prepare yourself for a mind-bending exploration of the human psyche, where dreams become nightmarish traps, and reality holds unimaginable horrors. With every twist and turn, the tension mounts, and the race to unveil the truth becomes an urgent and relentless pursuit.

I enjoyed editing this novel and readers are indeed in for a ride. The novel is available wherever books are sold.

Brave Heart

 

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(Photo Credit: Flickr)

”Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” Desmond Tutu

***

John Parker wanted to tell the kind man who’d saved him from death, but the words caught in his throat. He mumbled inaudibly then coughed loudly. He desperately wanted to unburden and bare his soul to Anselm but realised his new friend would probably call him a monster.

Time dragged on, and Parker waited. The silence in the room was as thick as a winter fog. How could he utter such words to a total stranger? How could he tell Anselm that his girlfriend of 12 years had been diced to pieces and kept inside his deep freezer. Why? Anselm may ask. ‘Oh,’ he may simply shrug his skinny shoulders and just give an excuse, maybe, because he caught her cheating and their seven-year old daughter, Amber, wasn’t his after all. How could he tell Anselm that he, Parker, was a psycho, a sociopath, a sadist whose pain went deeper than imagined? How in heaven’s name could he tell his new pal that he’d been in prison; a prison of the mind where walls whispered obscenities and the only respite he got would be to slash himself open. How could he say such words?

‘I don’t think I should be in this room,’ Parker finally said and a sad sigh escaped his trembling lips. ‘I should go now.’

He stood up but Anselm stopped him with a wave of his large hands.

‘Sit down,’ the older man said firmly. Parker obeyed, his eyes staring straight ahead.

‘You’ve done bad things. I see it in your eyes. Even there’s pain in death, killing yourself doesn’t make it all go away. Get yourself treated, ask forgiveness and turn yourself in. There’s still redemption son.’

John Parker stared at Anselm. His English was flawless, he’d dropped the German accent.

‘Who are you?’ Parker asked slowly.

‘I’m your conscience,’ was the apt reply and the room began to spin.

John woke up with a start, his heart beating wildly. He sat up and checked the bedside clock. It was 3 a.m. in the morning. He’d been dreaming, it was a huge relief but the incident in the dream wasn’t far from reality, his eyes sought his wife of 12 years who was sleeping soundly. He’d been hiding the voices in his head well, it was difficult explaining to his GP that he’d been battling severe depression for three years. After the loss of his job and his wife became the breadwinner, he’d slowly sunk deeper into the quagmire of depression.

There’s only one brave thing left to do, he tapped his wife gently on the shoulder, it’s better safe than sorry, he thought.

***

NP: Guys, I’m sorry I couldn’t post this story yesterday, I tried but life just got in the way. I totally had a different plot to this story but then, it occurred to me that men hide their frailty. They go through life as brave hearts, pillars, unmovable and then they crumple! If you’re a man reading this, please, don’t bottle things up if you’re not well. Life is in phases. Talk to your spouse, close friend or even your doctor. Depression affects a lot of people in our society today and some needless deaths could easily have been avoided if things hadn’t gotten out of hand.

The first part of this story is here if you want to catch up: https://seyisandradavid.org/2015/08/11/dreaming-when-awake/

I hope you’ll all have a wonderful weekend!

Much love, always!! 🙂

Unknown

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”It is said that in 1923, seven of the world’s most successful men met at a Chicago hotel: the president of the largest independent steel company, the president of the largest utility company, the greatest wheat speculator, the president of the New York Stock Exchange, a member of the President’s Cabinet, the president of the Bank of International Settlements and the president of the world’s greatest monopoly. Collectively these tycoons controlled more money than there was in the United States’ Treasury.

Now, fast forward 25 years and let’s see what happened to them. Charles Schwab, president of the largest independent steel company, lived the last five years of his life on borrowed money and died a pauper. Arthur Cooger, the greatest wheat speculator, shot himself. Richard Whitney, president of the New York Stock Exchange, spent three years in prison. Albert Fall, a member of the President’s cabinet, went to prison for bribery. Leon Fraser, president of the U.S. Bank of International Settlements, shot himself. Ivan Kreuger, head of one of the world’s largest monopolies, also committed suicide. If the recent economic upheaval has taught us anything, it’s that money brings neither security nor happiness.”

I agree with the writer of the above stories that we ought to use our money to reach a hurting world with love because that’s the essence of life, the only way we could truly live. I read this a few weeks back and it had a profound effect on me and I thought, why not throw this open and find out what others think?

Now I’ve got a question for you guys! Where do you think you’ll be in 25 years? I get to choose the best answer and whosoever got this right and I’m sure many would. 🙂 would enter my world of creation, which means that I’ll use the best answer to write a short story based on the commenter’s vision of the kind of life he or she would be living in 25 years’ time.

In the meantime, you can all listen to these awesome guys, their song is truly refreshing! You can achieve a lot if you put your mind to it! And in 25 years, you could be on top of the world…

I know I’m creature of impulse but I just feel like doing this! 🙂

So where do I think I’ll be 25 years time? Hmmmnn, I wonder…

Love you always guys! 🙂

Ever After?

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(Photo credit: Flickr)
‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’
Aristotle.
 ******

Alero kneaded the dough and used her free hand to mop her sweaty brows. Her husband was away on business but she noticed the surreptitious glances threw her way by the neighbours and it saddened her. Abel is the love of her life but of recent, she had trouble believing the ‘happily ever after’ theory.

A shrill sound interrupted her sad thoughts and she walked briskly to the living room, picking up the landline phone and whispered hoarsely, her voice constricted with tears.

‘Hello.’

‘Hey darling,’ Abel, her husband of five years, said slowly on the other line, ‘are you okay? You sound awful.’

She gritted her teeth then replied carefully, trying in vain to control the turbulent emotions coursing through her, ‘when are you coming home?’

‘I’m outside the door!’

Alero dropped the phone and flew to the door, she flung it open and saw Abel kneeling down on one knee, a huge grin on his brown face.

‘Forgive me darling, I promise to love you forever!’

She didn’t know what to say.

Abel stood up slowly and clasped her in a tight, warm embrace. Alero was limp in his arms, she felt nothing. Few seconds passed then she asked,

‘What exactly do you want me to forgive you for?’

‘The ‘ever after’ marriage is not a bed of roses. I have flaws my love, as you do, but we can work through it all.’

Alero now understood, and she held her husband tightly, wondering if ‘happily ever after’ is not a myth after all.

*******

In the spirit of ‘Valentine,’ I would be exploring a lot of relationships and how we could turn more towards the ‘happily ever after’ theme. Forgiveness and tolerance is the key for the success of any human relationship. Love conquers all…

Enjoy your weekend friends!

Much love, always!

🙂

Escape…

 

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I must have fallen and hit my head on the pavement, I felt hands on my legs and slowly, I slipped away. Then the pulling started, I felt searing pain tearing my insides into million pieces. I wanted to scream but couldn’t. It was a scary feeling. I felt trapped, immobile but my senses were sharp. I wanted to feel my body but it was like being wrapped in a bubble.

It was a floating kind of feeling, if you know what I mean but I guess you don’t. Then darkness came, it was oppressive and in my comatose existence, I welcomed it.

I was like that for God knows how long when suddenly,  sounds began to filter to me. It wasn’t clear or anything but I could make out voices. By now, I think I know a bit about my situation but escaping from wherever I am, was impossible.

Again, I tried to touch tangible things but I was weightless, helpless and the floating feeling returned in intensity. Then I realised that my mind could do things. I thought of Tom, my son, and immediately I was racing towards his school, invisible but in a life form all the same.

I breezed inside and saw him in the lecture room, his face ashen and seemed carved out of granite. I wanted to touch him but there was this irrepressible gulf. I felt defeated and thought of my husband. My mind took me on a whirlwind drive back to the hospital.

That was the first time I saw myself.

My bloated face looked blue and lifeless. Tubes were sticking out from every part of my body. Nathan, my husband was speaking but I couldn’t make out the words properly. I concentrated all my energy and studied his lips and finally, caught what he was saying,

‘It’s been five years doctor! I want my wife back.’ 

The doctor shook his head and patted my husband on the shoulder and slowly walked out of the room.

Then the memories rushed back.

I’ve been in coma for five years? I could float out of my body and see things! I’m trapped. I thought and watched my husband approach me on the bed. He crouched low and his hands slowly found the exposed part of my arm.

‘Please forgive  me Carey, I’m so sorry. I tried…’ And his voice trailed away.

What? Wait, don’t pull the plug, I’m here, don’t kill me! Don’t stop my life support!’ I screamed with everything I’ve got but Nathan walked to the other side of the bed and a miracle occurred, he stopped midway. Staring at me.

He paused for a while and looking straight at me he said, ‘I’ll fight for you Carey, I’ll wait. You’ll come back to me and the boys.’

I guess I escaped but how on earth am I going to open my eyes. I can hear things, I can see but the doctors thought I’m brain-dead. I really want to live… Can you please help me?

****************

This story,  whatever it is, came to my mind today early in the morning when my three-year old son trotter to my room and crept under the covers. Since my sleep was broken, I thought of the former Israeli Prime minister, Ariel Sharon who had been in a coma since 2006. It’s mysterious how someone could slip into a coma while still alive. Some come out of it and some don’t. I guess we should be thankful for everyday we see the sun. On a lighter note, Carey came out of the coma and it was happy days again. If only life is as simple as fiction.

Thanks for reading and have a brilliant week friends!

Much love. 🙂

Is It Too Late?

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(Photo credit: Flickr)

It’s too late to apologise, it’s too late!’ sings a man on the radio and this thought struck me deep and I wonder if sometimes, having a perfect relationship is as elusive as trying to grasp air.

Are some sins unforgivable? Or aptly put, are some relationships beyond repairs?

Take Lillian for example, she gave her twin sons up for adoption, lived a life stoned twenty-four hours a day, then miraculously, her life changed positively. She met and married a nice gentleman who loved and adored her.

But there was a problem, Lillian didn’t tell her new husband about her past, her twin sons were conveniently forgotten. But like a sour thumb, some secrets can’t stay hidden forever. Twenty years later, the twins are grown up, knew they were adopted and wanted answers.

By now, she had other kids, and by the time the truth came out, her husband of twenty years was appalled his wife could forget to mention that she had kids! The sons weren’t that forgiving either, they wanted answers.

This kind of story happens every day, and you may say – there are worse things out there and I agree, but is it too late for Lillian? If you were in her shoes, what would you do? If you were in her son’s shoes, what would be your reaction? And if your were Lillian’s husband, would just pack your bags and leave?

These questions are not easy to answer, but I would love to know what you guys think!

On a lighter note, I wished I’d seen the eclipse of the sun yesterday, it’s one in a lifetime event, but I didn’t, so life goes on I guess! And Nanowrimo is live, but I’m afraid I would not be doing that this year, got too much on my plate as it is.

I received the edited version of my upcoming thriller today and boy, was I thrilled? It was great! I can’t wait to hold the book in my hands…

Hope you’ll read it too when it’s out guys! Counting on you!! 😉

I’m afraid I can only blog once a week now until Christmas, but I’ve been visiting blogs as often as I could, if I’ve not visited yours for a while, please bear with me, I’ll definitely pop in soon! 🙂

I’m moving house soon and coupled with my book and other office related deadlines, I’ve got my hands full. I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas (my kids are already making their lists! 😦 ) Can you believe that?

Anyway, enough rambling! I hope you’re all okay, and I wish you’ll all have a wonderful week, wherever you are in the world!

Much love, always! 🙂

The Borrowers

 

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(Photo credit: Flickr)

 

Ethan smiled and his blue eyes danced with glee, the contract was a done deal. He strode toward his private jet, a man with the world under his feet. He felt like he owned the universe but at the corner of his eyes, he saw a glimmer… And that was the last thing he remembered…

++ ++ ++ ++

Raja hid under the bed, his heart beating with fury, but his impotent rage would achieve nothing. He gritted his teeth and dug his nails into the brown smelly carpet. Then the men came in stealthily, searching for their target, their cold ruthless eyes noticed a flicker of a movement.

And they smiled.

Then the rapid sound of gunfire reverberated throughout the estate…

++ ++ ++ ++

Jonathan stretched his long taunt body on the sofa, his accountant breathing down his neck in excitement.
‘We did it,’ Jonathan said with a boyish grin. Two hundred million pounds worth of cocaine had sailed through unscathed.

Then the accountant’s smile slowly faded like a receding shadow.

‘Honey,’ his new wife called from the bedroom, ‘I’m waiting!’
Jonathan stood to his feet and then saw the gun,

His heart froze.

********************

‘The glory that goes with wealth is fleeting and fragile; virtue is a possession glorious and eternal.’ Sallust

I consider all men (by that I mean everyone!) as borrowers, we’re living on borrowed time. No one is going to physically live forever, and the earlier we let that sink into our subconscious mind, the better for us. When we realise how futile it is to wage wars, to keep malice and abhor love, I guess we’ve cracked the code to world peace!

I’m happy to be writing this, although I’m still navigating slowly through my deluge of deadlines but things are looking up. And I also have great news – I now have the official release date for my upcoming supernatural thriller, 16th of December 2013! I want to garner as many reviews as I can get, it always boost sales.

Please, if anyone is interested in giving a sincere review, do let me know and once my publisher releases the ARC (Advance Review Copies) I’ll send it to as many of my friends as possible. Thanks for your friendship, I’ve visited several blogs and enjoyed reading diverse and richly entertaining contents. I’ll still continue to do so, and if I’ve not stopped by yours, please bear with me and I’ll visit soon!

Enjoy the rest of your week and have a fantastic weekend!

Much love, always!

🙂

Growing…

Winter Trees at Sunset

 

To live is to grow, when we stop growing, we stop living.

Some one once asked what inspires me to write, and I told this amiable fellow, ‘life inspires me to write and when I write, I grow, I keep learning everyday!’

Life is full of mysteries and wonder, that is why writers would always have inspirations to write. I read everyday and I write everyday! Our lives would be mundane if it’s static. When asked as an old man why he still practiced six to eight hours a day, one of the world’s best violinists replied, ‘Because I think I’m getting better!’ And I think that’s the attitude we need to cultivate, the desire to be the best in whatever we do.

When I read some of my earlier works, I laugh, because I saw through my mistakes, and I quickly improve on it. I am not the same writer I was yesterday, because today, I learnt how to write better. Life is progressive, death is static. If we don’t want to learn, what the hell are we living for then?

Growing takes time… we spend our whole life growing.

When Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was an old man, an admirer asked him how he was able to write so beautifully. Pointing to a nearby apple tree, he replied, ‘that tree is very old, but I never saw prettier blossoms. The tree grows a very little new wood every year, and out of that new wood those blossoms come. So I try to grow a little each year.’

What a decent man! I want to be more like Longfellow, grow like a tree, throughout my lifetime.

I hope you’re enjoying your weekend, and as we head into a new week, I hope you will have the courage and patience to learn new things, to grow like an oak and impact your world!

If any of you, my friends, recently bought one of my books, do leave a review at Amazon, or if you haven’t, do support a writer who loves the written word and click on my sidebar. ‘Tales Of Five Lies’ is less is than a dollar or a pound, ‘The Feet Of Darkness,’ is also available worldwide, online and in bookshops… My upcoming supernatural thriller, ‘Cydonia Rise of the fallen,’ will be released before Christmas. 

It’s a pleasure being your friend and I value every one of you dearly. Enjoy the rest of your weekend and have a beautiful week!

Much love, always!

🙂