Tony Ryan is bemused. He thought he understood the way the world worked, but now, as a sacrificial lamb of the credit crunch he finds himself drifting... drifting into the clutches of the ever resourceful Pete who could find the angle in a Fairy Liquid bubble... and into the arms of the enigmatic hippy girl, Astrid, who's about to introduce Tony to rabbits, magic caves and the joys of mushrooms. eBook of the Month Club describes 'The Return of the Hippy' as "The funniest and most heart warming novel of the year."
Tony Ryan is bemused. He thought he understood the way the world worked, but now, as a sacrificial lamb of the credit crunch he finds himself drifting... drifting into the clutches of the ever resourceful Pete who could find the angle in a Fairy Liquid bubble... and into the arms of the enigmatic hippy girl, Astrid, who's about to introduce Tony to rabbits, magic caves and the joys of mushrooms. eBook of the Month Club describes 'The Return of the Hippy' as "The funniest and most heart warming novel of the year."Hinweis: Dieser Artikel kann nur an eine deutsche Lieferadresse ausgeliefert werden.
In case you don't know, I write comedy. Gentle British comedy. Having grown up with P.G. Wodehouse, the Ealing Comedies and the Carry On movies I like to think I've captured the tone of traditional British Humour but brought it firmly into the... where are we now? No... not going to think about that. I also write to a theme. I believe many of us have lost sight of who we are in our rush to ride the next big wave. But when that wave dumps us on the shores of 'Couldn't Care Less' then carries on without us, who are we then? Can I stand up on the beach in nothing but my... nothing and tell the world who I am, or do I need to preface it with "Well, I used to be..." I used to be something big in the place where they needed people who were something big... for a while. Then they decided they didn't need people who were something big anymore and I become a nobody in a place where nobody cared anyway. My stories deal with identity and the bewilderment we face when that identity is taken from us by a world that has suddenly decided it can cope perfectly well without bubble lamp repairmen or human telephone receptionists. My stories concern real people who feel the world has become a slightly difficult place. A place where one used to know how to programme the video recorder or remove a roll of film from a camera without it exploding like a rasta's head in a hairdryer but now have to deal with isometric bandwidth widgity watsits on a daily basis before we can even put our MP3 in the toaster. I am a believer in hope and second chances. I believe we all have a soulmate and that some lucky few are destined to find them. I believe that the truth is out there, in the number 42 and that HAL was just having a bad day. And I believe in butterscotch Angel Delight. Most of all I believe in butterscotch Angel Delight. So, if you want a slice of old fashioned humour (Note to the colonists, humour has a letter U so please stop criticising my spelling) ... erm ... (that's criticising with an S not a Z by the way) oh (and it's a zed not a zee!) Anyway, good old fashioned humour with a heart and an understanding that our time here is precious. However, if you're looking for cruel, biting satire then please buy my books anyway. You'll be terribly disappointed but I need the money.
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