This is the last in my book choices for 2020. I could have included a whole lot more, as I enjoyed many amazing stories this year. But I also have to admit I’ve also battled through some really badly written books in the last 12 months. It can often be easy to tell those that are traditionally published, most are slick, fast moving and clever. However, and I’m not the only one who has remarked on this, several of the older long-time writers, often co-authoring are not quite as attention-holding as their earlier books. Maybe writers have a sell-by-date and become too formulaic and too repetitive? Might make for an interesting discussion.
On with my final choice.
The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty
This is a bestseller and despite the easy read, with the everyday activities of three housewives – brought back memories – there is an underlying problem which permeates the book. I can see why it has been so popular, although I might not have even been aware of it except it was on my Book Club list. I enjoyed it and shall look for more by Moriarty, especially as the genre I’m currently writing is also along similar lines.
Exits and Entrances by Leslie Hayes
If you are looking for a good quality, thought-provoking literary book to read you won’t go far wrong with any of Leslie Hayes’ works. They are so well written, flow beautifully and tell a story that moves along at a satisfying pace. I’ve enjoyed all this author’s books and this one is the first in a trilogy and I had to buy the next two immediately. Three schoolgirls whose friendship lasts decades, reminded me of the world events of the time, and mirrored the changing relationships we have all experienced as events and lifestyles pull us farther apart and yet bring us closer together.
Red Notice by Bill Browder
A non fiction book that blew my mind. Bill Browder was a hedge fund manager who set up business in Russia in the early days as the oligarchs were beginning to flex their muscles. The behind the scenes of the trading and back handing of the movers and shakers of the time were vividly brought to life, all fact from Browder’s point of view. The story takes us up to present times, and if you read this book, and I highly recommend it, you will never think of Russia or it’s government in quite the same way ever again.
I hope you will find some great reading among my top choices and will have lots of time to bury into a good book over the festive season. I have no idea what is currently PC or woke but I’m wishing all my readers a Merry Christmas, or celebration in your faith, plus a peaceful New Year and here’s hoping that 2021 will be a happy new beginning for all of us.
Stay safe, keep distance and remain kind and loving.
Oh, forgot my links AGAIN!!! You may even like one of my books, or, check out my website and sign up for my newsletter as each month there are books to win and free books to grab.
My guest this week also writes stories set in Africa. We share a love for that great continent where you can feel the drumbeats of life emanate from the ground beneath your feet. Stand on her soil and you experience the primaeval force of life and your place on this planet.
Over now to Steve Braker, who is lucky enough to still live there, in a town I visited several times.
Steve Braker Action and Adventure Author
Firstly, I would like to thank Lucinda for inviting me to write this post on her newsletter.
Here’s a little bit about me…
I was born in Cornwall, in the South West of England. It is a wonderful part of the world full of beaches, beautiful moors, and some of the best scenery in the U.K. I grew up surfing, rock climbing, and camping which gave me a real taste for adventure. My parents were very keen readers. The house was always full of storybooks, mostly true-life adventures. My favourites always included some sort of far off adventure in lands I could only imagine. I remember being glued to the Gerald Durrell books. In his early days before he opened his sanctuary in Jersey, on the Channel Islands, he captured animals for zoos. His adventures in Africa catching lions and elephants were remarkable, and his ability to describe the scenes so vividly has always stayed with me.
I left school at sixteen and immediately enrolled with a local silversmith on an apprenticeship. It was a wonderful experience but did not really fulfil my desire to travel. After four lovely years, creating jewelry and silverwares, it was time for an adventure, so I took off with my savings, desperately searching for my life’s purpose.
I travelled to the Far East, India, and West Africa, wandering around trying to find myself and grow up. I managed to get some odd jobs to supplement my income and ended up teaching English in the British Embassy in Bangkok. I was very happy there and this would probably be the end of my story, but unfortunately, my father became terminally sick and I had to return to the U.K.
I landed in the U.K. in the depths of winter without a penny to my name. I managed to find some odd jobs cleaning offices and working in restaurants, but I wanted to get back to my teaching as I had found it fascinating. I managed to scrape enough money together to get a T.E.F.L. qualification enabling me to teach in the U.K. Once I had this under my belt I was able to work in the schools that proliferated Oxford Street at that time. This was not enough for me, before long I managed to open a one-room school in China Town in the West End of London. It was a good time for language schools, so with some hard work and a dose of good luck I was able to grow the school over the ten years.
This is where my passion for the English language really came to life. The technical aspects of the language really intrigued me. Breaking down sentence structure to its smallest parts became a real pleasure. This led to looking at the way the language works and how people interact with it.
Writing was always an interest to me, but I had never sat down and actually written anything. But during this time, I wrote many short action-adventure stories about my travels in West Africa and the Far East. Unfortunately, they are now lost in the mists of time.
In 1999 everything was changing in London, and I had a young family that was not enjoying living in the centre of a concrete jungle. So, my wife at the time, who is a Luo, a Nilotic tribe that lives around Lake Victoria, and I decided we would give Kenya a go. It was a massive decision; we had four kids the youngest was eighteen months old. But we desperately wanted our children to grow up with a sense of freedom.
In 2000 we all moved to Kenya in East Africa and settled in Mombasa on the coast. During the school holidays, we travelled the length and breadth of Kenya and sailed along the coastlines from Zanzibar to Lamu. They have all grown up now and headed back to the U.K., but they love coming out on holiday, and I’m sure they will return permanently one day.
I became very involved with the ocean and opened a marina and workshop. I also became a P.A.D.I. open water dive instructor, keen fisherman and free diver. One of my passions was repairing and building the ancient wooden dhows that still ply the coast of Kenya.
Working in the Ocean gave me the inspiration to write my first book ‘African Slaver’. I loved the experience and was hooked. I was amazed to see loads of reviews on Amazon.com all rating the book a four or five star. I wrote the story after spending some time in Mogadishu where child slavery is rampant. My books are action thrillers, but they have a twist of real-life experience with a heavy dose of local culture thrown in.
The William Brody Action Thriller Series is designed to show an aspect of Africa wrapped up in a fast-paced thriller. They are fiction but depict what is really happening on this continent. I was brought up on a steady fix of late eighties T.V. like The A-Team and Hawaii Five-O and for the English readers Minder and The Sweeny. These action series had a thread of old world ‘Do the right thing against all the odds.’ This seems to have gotten a bit lost over the years. My male character, William Brody, I like to think has the true grit that was represented in the movies and series made during this period.
I am currently working on the fifth book of the series. African Vengeance which is set in Mombasa and a small town in Tanzania called Tanga. Brody gets involved in a race against time to save his friends from some corrupt local officials. There is loads of diving, sailing and interesting interactions with the local population.
If you would like a taste of the William Brody Action Thriller Series, I am offering the first book, African Slaver, free of charge to anyone who signs up to my email newsletter. You can unsubscribe at any time so there is no risk, and I only send the newsletters out once a month or so. Just click here if you would like a good read about Africa. You can also find me at www.stevebrakerbooks.com or drop me a line on firstname.lastname@example.org.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Thank you for being my guest this week Steve.
If you would like to be a guest, just drop your name in the comments below. – Apologies too for a very basic layout. I’m still struggling to find my way around this new block editor. I won’t repeat in public what I think of it.
We finally fell back through our front door last Saturday night after a fantastic week in Florida. We were suffering a bit from jet lag, and DH brought an extra 5 million or so little visitors home too. As a result he’s been sleeping upright ever since. I’ve tried to tell him that’s a small price to pay for being married to an award winning author – he looked less than impressed.
“And a medal winning author at that!” I exclaimed waving the medal in his face. He grunted and reached for the tissues.
Secretly I think he’s quite chuffed and I’m not only thrilled, I’m amazed and flattered and re-energized and I still can’t believe it. It’s such a thrill to think that faceless judges, half a world away, think my writing is worth awards.
A silver medal for Walking over Eggshells in the Inspirational category non fiction and an Honourable mention for Amie an African Adventure. (Personally I think the bright green sticker prettier than the silver one) but Honourable comes after bronze, so she did well too. (Probably much to Amie’s disgust as I shall certainly continue writing about her and putting her through even more horrendous situations).
We stayed at the hotel where the function was held and they ran a shuttle to the Miami Book Fair in downtown Miami. We met up with another writer who – now wait for this – used to teach at the same school in Benghazi, Libya as I had. How likely is that? To meet up in the United States – and as the school wasn’t all that large, there could only have been a couple of dozen teachers there at any one time at the most.
We both drooled at the Readers Favorite book display which was selling copies of our books for St Jude’s charity.
And we also had them on display at the reception desk at the hotel. I threw in a few pens and they disappeared so fast! (Several of the waiters had them stuffed in their pockets, but you never know, someone might look and log on and buy).
On the Friday evening we sat and listened to several presentations from major players in the book industry, and I tried to get my head around how I can do all these sort of marketing things from rural Spain. Not so easy, there’s the language barrier for a start.
The event itself was great, with the presentation, the interviews and the pictures.
The extra cherry was talking to and interacting with other authors – book people who breathe, sleep, dream and obsess over books – just like me. Sometimes you sit and wonder who cares about books, with computer games and Xboxes and movies and other stuff like that for leisure time – but they are still out there!
I met authors from all over the world and we swapped information and ideas and networked liked crazy.
All in all a fabulous trip, made even better by travelling up to Tampa to stay with a reader I met on Facebook – who organized something very special for me, but more on that next week.
PS I sneaked a pic of DH in there somewhere – did you notice?
As usual I got carried away while writing this and forgot to mention links to my books etc. So if you want to find out what all the fuss is about you may like to check out a few.
WARNING: for those of a nervous disposition, do not read this post, as it has a gruesome picture in it for lovers of little furry friends.
We bade a fond farewell to our guides with pleas from them to recommend holidays in Cambodia – and I do recommend it. The people were so friendly, the hotel was gorgeous and the ruins amazing.
It was time to move on, away from the wide majestic waterways and the inhabitants who eek out a living there, and take an afternoon flight across yet another border to Laos. Still a communist country and not as prosperous as Vietnam from what I could see. Luang Prabang is a lot further north and very much colder – though I must admit it was January.
I wrote in my diary it was a bit creepy, the bed was lumpy and the wedding party drums kept us awake for hours – yes, this is me who always reckons she could sleep through the 1812 played at the foot of the bed. But we were both so cold even cuddling didn’t keep the chills away. It was a nice hotel though but a little out of town.
Our first visit was to a market.
The little things with tails? Please don’t ask.
I was blown away by this little girl playing with a cell phone wearing Disneyland leggings. On one hand it shrinks the world, on the other emphasises the enormous gap.
Then it was off to another temple. I’ve been puzzled in the past about Buddhism, and was determined to sort out the principles on this trip. Instead of a greater understanding I became more confused. There appear to be dozens of slightly different sects with varying rules. I mention this as we were off to another temple complex called Wat Xieng Thong. Plus a trip around the Royal Palace museum.
Next time, dining on tree stumps.
Can I find anything more interesting to say about George IV? Well I scratched around a little and can share with you the following.
When he was born, an attending courtier announced he was a girl. He didn’t like living in the small houses (huge mansions to you and I) preferred by his father, as I’ve mentioned they did not get on.
So he went mad building enormous residences for himself once he got to sit on the throne.
Buckingham Palace from the back for a change.
He was mad about clothes and spending money and he was very selfish and self-centred. When he was old he slipped into a fantasy world assisted by laudanum and cherry brandy. He believed he had personally defeated Napoleon. He had his first serious love affair at 17 and tried to divorce his wife, except Parliament wouldn’t let him. He only married in the first place, a good, acceptable, Protestant princess so the government would pay all his debts. He was blind drunk at his wedding. Wow, don’t you wish he was your neighbour?
OK here comes the advertising bit (well I’m told I should include it). Can I persuade you to go on my mailing list? As soon as I’ve sent Amie 3 off to my editor, I will be writing some back stories only available to a special set of people. Also you can find out when you can get my books free or cheap and there’s the occasional competition to win free books just for signing up J
I’ve digressed a couple of times from The Big Trip as other things popped up in my humdrum life, but I hate to leave loose ends – so onwards with our Far East tour.
By now my takkies/gym shoes/pumps/trainers were falling apart and the hotel in Siem Reap sold me a very nice pair of fake Nikes. As the pretty receptionist told me, “you can’t tell the difference” – and I certainly couldn’t – apart from the price.
We dined in the hotel that night, sitting in solitary splendour with a waiter and a half each. Where all the other guests were, we had no idea. We even went out for a walk but we couldn’t find them. Later we learned they’d gone to a show. We booked for the following night.
More temples the next day, honestly I was beginning to get templed-out. I ducked out of the second one and went browsing around a local market instead.
The third temple was fascinating, not because it had been used in the Tomb Raider film, but for the tree growing out of the ruins.
The next day we were driving through the countryside to a local town where we saw this bride and groom. As I was slithering into the photographer’s covered tent he turned and looked. I was preparing to make a million apologies, grovelling an inch off the ground, when he ushered the happy couple outside so could get a proper photo – at least I think that’s what he said.
Another boat took us on Tonle Sap Lake which was truly enormous, I thought I was on the Mekong, but although this lake flows eventually into the delta, for six months of the year the river flows in the opposite direction, out of the lake and then into it again.
As the level goes up and down, some of the lake people relocate to the land. We were there in January and it was just mind blowing to see floating petrol stations, a church, basketball court, the usual houses and, believe it or not a crocodile farm.
I don’t think George IV was all that interesting really. He spent a lot of money – didn’t they all? Had lots of mistresses – didn’t they all? Fathered a lot of illegitimate children – didn’t they all? He also founded a couple of important institutions and things which probably aren’t very important.
He was on the throne for ten years and if you think you’ve got money problems, look at his – he owed £630,000 which in today’s terms comes to £58,700.000. His by-now-not-so-by-now friendly bank manager had confiscated all his Visa and Mastercards, but that didn’t stop him. I think he should have been admitted to retail rehab, but if you’re king, you only have to ask the parliament to bail you out I guess.
Oh, I ought to do a bit of promoting stuff I suppose. You must on pain of death Can I persuade you to go on my mailing list? As soon as I’ve sent Amie 3 off to my editor, I will be writing some back stories only available to a special set of people. Also you can find out when you can get my books free or cheap and there’s the occasional competition to win free books just for signing up J
If you read this blog regularly you may remember that every time we take a holiday something goes wrong. And this time was no different except it all happened before we even left home. When I go away I make a big production out of it, it’s all part of the fun. The house has to be squeaky clean, the washing up to date and I’m packed hours and hours before we leave – from my pre-made list of course.
This time was no exception, and to keep the kitchen nice and clean we set out for our favourite pasta place in the village. IT HAD GONE!! We stared dumbfounded at the empty store till a kind man told us it had moved to the next small town. Off we went but failed to find it, so back to our village, parked the car and went to eat somewhere else. An early night we agreed as we had to be up before dawn for the drive to the airport. Back to collect the car only to find it was locked in the underground parking garage – huge steel shutters between us and our transport. Another kind passerby suggested the police station might have a key. So back up 3 flights of steps and into the cop shop. They were sympathetic, but no they didn’t have a key, could we come back at 8am when the garage opened? No, we couldn’t we had a plane to catch. We pretended we were tourists and luckily I had my passport already packed in my bag. Mind, they could tell we weren’t local, not with my level of Spanish. Wait outside, they told us. So we sat on the steps and waited and waited until finally we were told to hurry back to the garage. There a friendly cop was playing with the metal doors as they shot up and down. Having taken our details in the office DH was escorted to the car and he was able to drive out.
We landed in Amsterdam and being me I had to see everything. First it was the Royal Palace
Then a daylight cruise on the canals so we could see where we were going. Then a visit to the Sex Museum.
A stroll through the Red Light District.
The next day we made for the Rijksmuseum to see the Night Watch.
Whoops wrong pic
Then to the diamond museum where we bought nothing at all of course – and on to the Van Gough Museum with a special exhibition about his madness – oh so many of us writers have exactly the same frustrations don’t we? I felt a real affinity with him.
And here I am on my birthday in the middle of a fountain.
The Heineken Brewery was next, even though I don’t like beer.
A church with an impressive organ and after dinner a night cruise on the canals. Then a walk through the Red Light District, visiting the Museum of Prostitution, and I have to hand it to Amsterdam, it’s regulated, open, honest and treated just like any other business. No pics here of course, but the girls looked absolutely beautiful. Millions of story lines flew round my head – why were they here and not starring in Hollywood?
Next day we visited the Jewish Historical museum and the Museum of Resistance which was amazing – but a little uncomfortable as it all happened not too long before I was born. Then the Red Light District. However, I must explain that our hotel was on the fringes, and as we are a little old for the nightclubs, the coffee bars in the area are humming late into the night.
Finally on our last morning we had a meet up with a FB friend Val Poore and that was magic. We have so much in common and we’ll be getting together again very soon. DH didn’t nod off either as we chattered about books and books and books and previous lives.
And the elephant dentistry? We found the perfect picture for the cover of Amie 3. She meets a lone bull who is frantically looking for a female to love, so he’s unpredictable and dangerous. Only problem with the pic is this ellie only had half a tusk. So we sent him off back to South Africa where my clever photographic friend worked Photoshop magic and gave him a smart new pair. I decided to stop at that.
Finally, thank you to all the people who sent kind birthday wishes, I’ve tried to thank everyone personally, but if I missed some, please forgive me.
Ankor Wat stretches for miles and miles and miles.
I know some people spend days there and it was possible to get passes for a day, three days and a week.
Much as I am in awe of the magnificent buildings, there is still a lot of debate as to what / when / and how the exact history evolved. Our guide, a delightful man named Solly, was super attentive, holding my arm every step along the way. DH was getting quite huffy about it, watching like a hawk to see what part of my anatomy the man was going to grab as we approached yet another step. I couldn’t decide if the friendly Cambodian, a perfect gentleman, thought I was just too delightful and wanted to help, or if he thought I looked so decrepit I needed help.
Within the complex we saw the Bayon Temple, the Elephant’s Terrace and the Bakheng Temple. I’m ashamed to admit I can’t remember now one from another, but then if I have problems remembering what I did yesterday, maybe that’s not surprising.
But the whole experience was a delight and one I would not have missed for the world.
Well poor old George III ruled for a lot of years, I’m sure it’s not important how long but several decades. Every now and again his son stood in for him which did not please Daddy at all. They had continued with the family tradition of not getting on with each other and George IV didn’t like his wife either.
He got into a big sulk and went off to build himself a discreet little hideaway in Brighton where no one would bother him.
A footnote. I am offering an e.copy of any of my books for free if you’d like to sign up to my mailing list. email@example.com
Did you miss me last week? No, I thought not. Well for the last seven days I decided to get my head down and go over Amie 3 once again thoroughly before sending her off to my editor. I’d sent a very early draft through to DH and he found a few things wrong (of course he would).
So, come the morning we sit down together and I steel myself to hear the worst.
ME: Well you can’t complain this time that she never goes off for a pee. She spends half her time in this book behind one bush or another. Her plumbing system is in full working order.
DH: OK I noticed that but there are still no sex scenes.
ME: I’m not sure my readers are looking for gratuitous sex, and I don’t use many swear words either.
DH: I’m not talking bondage and erotica here but you’ve just told me she’s a healthy young woman. She has needs. (Every man’s dream right?)
ME: You know I find sex scenes a little tricky. It must be the most undignified way to behave sober there is. And how can I possibly ever describe it better than millions before me? He whips his clothes off, she rips her clothes off and they wriggle around for a while praying she won’t get pregnant.
DH: I still think you’re cutting it too short you could go into a little more detail. Right, what about this boring bit in the middle?
ME: Boring? And what bit would that be? I can’t have her racing about on every page, it’s not natural surely. Fast paced is one thing, frenetic is another. Look we have her (spoiler) and then she takes refuge in (spoiler) and isn’t this bit (spoiler) exciting?
DH: She’s crying again.
ME: Well I’d cry if I saw (spoiler).
DH: You might, but then you’re not superwoman.
DH: She’s a strong heroine, and I think you’re basing her too much on yourself.
ME: What! Hardly!
DH: Well no, not the brave stuff, that’s not you, but she’s still snivelling an awful lot, toughen her up.
ME: But she’s survived so far, that makes her tough. She’s not an Olympic weight lifter or a body builder. I want my readers to like her and feel for her. If she’s too tough they won’t relate to her will they? If you had your way she’d be dressed in black leather with boots and a whip!
DH: Now that’s an idea.
DH: You want to sell to both men and women right?
DH: Then make her strong, not wet and drippy.
ME: Amie won’t appreciate you saying that.
STRANGE LOOK FROM DH, HE MOVES A LITTLE FURTHER AWAY ROUND THE TABLE.
ME: It’s a writer’s thing our characters live in our minds they are real people.
DH: There’s not enough detail, all these guns for example. What size calibre are they?
ME: Ah, now I did lots of research on the net and I did play with a gun once and those cartridge thingies…
DH: (RAISES EYEBROWS) Magazines?
ME: Yes those things it’s really hard to load the bullets into them and they hurt my fingers. I had a couple of dates with the policeman in Durban and he let me play with his.
DH: (EYEBROWS FURTHER UP) His what?
ME: His gun! I must have had a premonition I would need that experience one day so I asked him to show me where the bullets went and how to load them. It took me over an hour to get all six slotted in against that spring.
DH: Figures. Good thing you weren’t in a shoot out at the time. Now Amie has a car in Durban, what kind?
ME: Does it matter?
DH: Of course it does, people want to know that.
ME: (MUTTERING) If you insist, I’ll give her a Corolla, they make assemble those in Durban.
DH: And a 737 will never get from London to Johannesburg.
ME: Good point, I’ll up that to a 747. So is it as good as the other two? Did it hold your attention? Did you find it exciting?
DH: I read it all the way through didn’t I?
(DH GETS UP TO MAKE COFFEE.)
Well at least I had a nice email from my editor this morning and she says it’s the best thing I’ve written so far (she’s terribly good at the sugar coating stuff), but of course there is lots of work to be done, including my tautologies – I really must look that up, I wonder what they are?
On the brighter side, Amie 1 an African Adventure got a Bronze in the Global E Book awards in popular fiction, so that cheered me up.
Once upon a time when I was writing for a living (and are we going back a long, long way), I wrote mainly promotional, educational and informational content – usually for radio and television, often in a drama format.
Then, as I got to the wrinkly stage, pretending to be retired, I turned to books. I wrote three memoirs, and two novels. If there was any theme it was Africa, well I lived there for almost forty years, so I got to notice quite a lot, especially filming in deep rural areas miles away from cities.
Then I broke the mould and published my political/satirical book set 200 years on in Fairyland, possibly described as similar to Tom Sharpe or Monty Python. I was unsure if the rather ‘British’ humour would transcend the Atlantic, but surprisingly I’ve had more sales on the other side of the pond.
Readers who knew me best from the Amie novels (and let’s face it, she has a very limited sense of humour), expressed surprise as it was so ‘not’ my genre.
Most writers have a genre we’re told ‘it’s the right thing to do’. So, Ludlum writes spy books, Steven King writes horror books and Edit Blyton wrote books for children.
But as often as I could, I put a humorous slant on most of my writing. It’s there in my memoirs, even in Walking over Eggshells. I’ve had to see the funny side of life in order to keep sane through the ups and downs of the bizarre situations I found myself in.
So Unhappily Ever After is possibly more me than Amie’s servant, telling her story to the world (well OK to the occasional reader who clicks on the link).
Why am I rambling on like this? Just a reminder that Unhappily is at $/£0.99 this week for 311 pages of really funny stuff, even I giggled at some of it. And as an extra teaser, here are some of the Twitter adds I put together (no, not going in for the graphic awards any time soon), which might give you a taste as to what it’s all about.
It climbed to #6,246 overall in paid books this morning in the US and #35,868 in the UK but I had a bit of help with one of those promos. Go take a peep, here is the link
Can Tho is on the banks of the Hau River in the Mekong delta area, but it felt as if we were by the sea – it is one big delta.
We spent the night in Can Tho and went walking along the promenade and came to this!
That must have cost a bit and slap bang in the south which was not in favour of the man on the platform.
Now from pictures on the internet it looks as if there are hundreds of tiny boats floating by the banks, but the following morning we were whisked up river to see the permanent floating villages. We were told they did relocate every six months due to the flooding, but I wasn’t sure how they managed this. How do you move a petrol station twice a year?
Then it was time for more eco village pursuits. Making rice noodles and a couple of extra pictures to prove I was there.
You can see how brave I was!
Back to Ho Chi Min city (Saigon) to fly to Seim Reap and I’m sure you can guess why they took us there.
Not only was George III interesting because he was mad, other exciting and interesting people lived at the same time – such as:
The peasants in France who revolted under Napoleon, who wanted France to become Top Dog. This could NOT be allowed of course, so Nelson with his very close friend Hardy [of “Kiss Me Fame.”] and an Irishman called John Wellesley, who became the Duke of Wellington, and thus English, defeated Napoleon once at Waterloo and then again on the playing fields of Eton, which only proves that geography is not taught in French schools.
I’ve used up all my pictures for this post, so can you please imagine them?
Would Do you want How about joining my mailing list? As soon as I’ve sent Amie 3 off to my editor, I will be writing some back stories only available to this special set of people. Also you can find out when you can get my books free or cheap and there’s the occasional competition to win free books just for signing up.