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  • Format: ePub

Is this history spanning horror-mystery short, a schoolboy in 1990's England is taken by his teacher as a day visitor to Victoria House, a permanent residence for 70 people with various learning and behavioural disabilities. Involuntarily embroiled in events, the anxious & guilt ridden schoolboy watches on as a mystery unravels before his eyes to reveal an evil older than written history. The first in a planned series of short stories and novella's and introduces the character of The Collector, though can be read standalone.

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Produktbeschreibung
Is this history spanning horror-mystery short, a schoolboy in 1990's England is taken by his teacher as a day visitor to Victoria House, a permanent residence for 70 people with various learning and behavioural disabilities. Involuntarily embroiled in events, the anxious & guilt ridden schoolboy watches on as a mystery unravels before his eyes to reveal an evil older than written history. The first in a planned series of short stories and novella's and introduces the character of The Collector, though can be read standalone.


Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.

Autorenporträt
I come from Stanwell in Middlesex, England, a place we described as children as 'the mutant village of Stanwell' due to the alarming number of bizarrely ailed residents and the drunken skullduggery of revellers pouring out of its three pubs (that's just the village). Being a child born in 82 meant several things; there were no paedophiles, electricity was harmless and no working class parent gave a flying fuck where you were or what you were doing as long as you didn't arrive home with the cops. So every weekend, with my father having insisted we didn't come back until we couldn't SEE our way back, me and my brother got on our bikes and went exploring the wasteland that is working class England. My best mate lived in a cemetery, the locals all looked like they were shaken out of a Clive Barker novel and learning was for those who didn't have the strength to move concrete posts or the skill to manoeuvre a forklift truck . . . carrying concrete posts. I'm guessing this is where most of my characters come from. Anyway . . .