Month: January 2022

Update Jan 2022

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Hi Everyone!

As always, I’ve set this out so you can read the sections you want to read. I have publishing news, so note the writing section.

AT HOME:

It’s been a fairly quiet time, though I’ve been busy writing. We’ve got out to walk locally, but nothing to impart on the home front this month.

FILM/TV:

Right now we’re still re-watching Castle (Disney) as we never got to the end originally (Sky box melted; not kidding — came home to the smell of melting plastic one day and we gave up as they refused to give us a deal on a new box).

We are now watching The Discovery of Witches on NOWTV (only ever read the 1st book, though I thoroughly enjoyed it, so may need to get around to the 2nd and 3rd).

We’re still re-watching Star Trek Next Gen on Netflix, and the US version of The Office, which, I said last month, has pleasantly surprised me. I liked the UK version and often when there’s a remake elsewhere, it’s never as good. This time it feels as good just different. The US version has a surprisingly British feel to it, no doubt because Ricky Gervais was involved.

And we watched Around the World in 80 Days on BBC iPlayer, which is surely one of the best things the ‘Beeb’ has made for some time. Have to admit we seldom watch anything from the BBC these days, and would happily see the back of the TV Licence because of it — sorry, but it’s time we stopped paying for things we don’t use, and one or two programmes isn’t enough to warrant the cost. Glad to hear there’ll be a second series and it would be wonderful if they keep to Jules Verne stories, but even that wouldn’t make me subscribe. As for another series, we’re keeping up with Death in Paradise.

READING:

Jan

Lightning, Dean Koontz

A re-read for me, though I’ve never forgotten the heart wrenching moment following the fire which I first read on a train journey when I had to put the book down. Times have changed. Knowing what was coming, I wasn’t so affected this time, and the story of publication success seems farfetched in these turbulent times of the industry, though in rare cases it happens. This is a tight supernatural science fiction thriller, and I enjoyed it as much now as I did so many years ago. What I realised during this reread is the sorrow in these pages is as important as all the other aspects to make the work enjoyable. Without conflict, there is no story, and this book has it in bucket loads.

The Hapless Child, Edward Gorey

I can’t really claim to have ‘read’ this book, as there’s not much to read. Each page contains a simple statement and one of Gorey’s quirky drawings, which is really what makes the book. Warning: if you don’t already know the story and don’t want to know the details, then don’t read the book flap because it gives the facts away. Fortunately, I had some inkling. When finished, which I did in under five minutes, even taking time to study the pictures, the bleakness left part of me harrowed, and part of me wanted to laugh. That could be partly a dark, twisted sense of humour, or a coping mechanism. I’m sure it’s both. One of the dreariest tales, this is perfect to dig out when anyone moans about their lot in life because you can remind them of poor little Charlotte Sophia. The type of book Jack Skellington would mistakenly give out to children for Christmas. This makes me think of the original fairy tales, which are darker than many people who haven’t read them believe. There’s something oddly interesting about this little book.

Tender is the Flesh, Agustina Bazterrrica

The subject of humans being used as meat is not a new one, and I could mention another book which I feel has approached it better. I wanted to feel for the main character in this novel, but I couldn’t connect with the story mostly because of the way it’s written. Many authors seem to adopt the present tense recently, but it took several confusing pages for me to realise ‘he’ almost always means the main character. For example: “El Gringo steps away from Egmont and approaches him, just as he’s thinking there must be more than 200 in the barn.” Read as is, this sentence is very confusing. How can someone both step away AND approach? And who is doing the thinking? When you realise the ‘him’ and the ‘he’s thinking’ are both Marcos (the MC), the sentence becomes clearer, but I’m surprised any decent editor allowed the book to go to publication like this, and would take it as a self-published book. The entire basis of the story — the almost non-existent animal population because of a virus — would present a far great ecological disaster than humans being unable to find meat for their dinner plate. Then there’s the scene of animal cruelty which adds nothing to the story. I dislike animal cruelty in books, though will tolerate it if I feel it is important, but here it struck me as entirely unnecessary. I hate sounding negative. The author tells a decent story, and aside from the lack of a personal pronoun for the main character can clearly write. However, the book is neither frightening as a horror story, nor does it work as a great allegory, except, perhaps, to show human nature at its most bleak and appalling.

Cunning Folk, Adam L.G. Nevill

Having experienced bad neighbours, this book contained some personal horror for me, so much so, I found it hard to switch off after reading one section. Yes, this is supernatural horror, but the twin joys of moving in a money pit of a house next door to the worse neighbours one can imagine makes for a memorable folk horror. I must admit, the ‘folk next door’ presented a greater horror than what might be out in the woods for me. Maybe disturbing more than scary, but, though horror is a favourite genre for me, I’ve yet to find a truly scary book. I found a few of the descriptive sentences a little too much, perhaps excessively flowery, needing to read them twice, but I find Nevill’s style of work compelling, so even an occasional awkward sentence would never deter me. Opinions are just that, anyway, with no true right or wrong. I’m a reader who appreciates an author who takes me on an unexpected journey, and I also appreciate Nevill has an extensive vocabulary. The descent into madness (neighbours driving a person crazy), is spot-on and disturbingly delightful.

The Butterfly Garden, Dot Hutchinson

I started reading this book against my better judgement upon recommendation. Written in both first person sections and others in present tense, I was immediately uncertain, but it works to tell this story. The educated way the main protagonist speaks also threw me, a rather sophisticated way for such a young woman. This is a horrible rape thriller (though there are no portrayed rape scenes), and (horrible) is what it should be. Maybe it tries to play psychoanalyst to both victim and criminal, but it doesn’t quite succeed. Some readers find this book disturbing. Others hate it and blame the victims for not fighting back, and, to a point, I agree with both observations. I have to wonder when faced with an impossible prison, and a worse ‘caretaker’ if one killed one’s keeper, what might many people do, even if eventual death is unavoidable? Still, I find it unrealistic — there’s not enough covered in the book for those who fell apart; they’re almost a footnote, pure observation. We’re not shown those who perhaps sought a way out, even if they paid the ultimate price. We don’t hear their screaming and crying, only weeping… and there would be more variations of reactions, emotions, and personalities, loud and quiet; subdued and violent. Disturbing? Though I shed a tear during a couple of moments, I read most of the story as an unaffected observer and when trying to work out what’s wrong with this book, I feel there I have my answer. There’s a lack of emotional investment. I felt sorry for the plight of the women, felt a natural disgust for the perpetrator, but aside from wanting them to escape purely sympathetically, as any decent person would, I wasn’t rooting for anyone. I think I understand the author’s intent — to keep the main character telling her story dispassionately, because it’s the character’s upbringing and way of coping, but it also leaves the reader in a rather dispassionate place. You can’t sink to the depths of depravity without making the reader feel the anguish. I also couldn’t help reading this without thinking of The Collector, by John Fowles, as this seems to be the same story taken to a more extreme level.

The Ghost Machine, James Lovegrove

When I started this book, I immediately felt this was going to be my least favourite of the first 3 Firefly novels, and in some ways, it is. I think this is because at first the threat didn’t feel genuine enough, but as the conflict ramps up, there’s reason to root for the crew’s survival. In that way it feels like a book of two halves, but it still finds its place in the Firefly universe, although I cannot imagine some of these scenes would ever have made it into an episode. This is in some ways possibly the most brutal story to date.

I’ve started Thud, by Terry Pratchett, so more on that next time.

WRITING

I at last subbed the book I talked about last month. Pleased to announce JMS Books has contracted Sweet Temptations. Release still planned for March. I’ll share the blurb next month.

Stay happy and healthy!

Sharon x

So, We’re All in it for the Money?

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Note: the figures I’m going to run through here aren’t ‘accurate’. They are an approximation to present an example only.

At most, an e-book probably sells in the current (romance) market for approximately $8 or less. The longer the work, the higher the price, naturally.

35% royalties from an $8 provides $2.80. Note: this is on an $8 book. Some books sell for less.

If the UK author doesn’t currently have an ITIN (US tax code) then the publisher will take a 30% tax (withholding) from that $2.80. That leaves $1.96.

The exchange rate means the UK writer loses approximately half, so $2 becomes £1. If you’ve sorted out your US tax code, then you may get £1.40 but oh… you might get paid by US cheque… Excuse me, ‘check’. That will mean bank charges may sometimes be larger than the cheque is worth and, therefore, not worth cashing. If you’re lucky, the publisher may be good enough to pay you quarterly to help with this, as bank charges are usually ‘per cheque’.

So you sell 1000 books. A 1000 books would be ‘fantastic’. The chances are the writer will sell far less per title. Many print books never sell 500 copies. 200-500 for an e-book is not unrealistic. I’ve known writers who have sold lower than 200 copies with a single title. I have had a couple of titles which did poorly — if no one buys them, no one buys them regardless of whether they are any good, and sometimes the why is impossible to predict. Could be the cover. Might be the title. Perhaps the blurb’s not enticing. Maybe the reader never spots the book because of poor placement.

But let’s return to numbers and run with that nicely rounded and mythical figure of 1000 books. That equates to £1000, maybe £1,400, but it’s taken a year, maybe eighteen months, even longer — perhaps three, four or five years — to sell those 1000 copies and that’s if the writer is with a large publisher and is selling well. If it’s a smaller publisher and a title where you may only sell 200 copies, then a book that took you six months to write, three months to edit, hours to promote, may make the author £200 or £250. And oh, wait. Is the author a UK taxpayer? If the writer earns more from writing or from their day job than their personal tax-free allowance, they must declare all additional income and you’ll lose just over a quarter on what’s left in UK tax. Though note, the UK/US has a tax agreement, so you only need to pay tax in one country.

Now, if you’re a UK writer writing for a UK publisher (or a US one writing in the US), and you earn these figures, hooray, because you won’t lose out on the exchange rate and can skip that part of the loss, but for UK writers, the US is a market to consider because they have a greater population, meaning greater number of readers. And even equating that possible £1000 earned to £2000, it’s still not a fantastic hourly rate compared to working in an office, and sometimes publishing comes with that ‘office’ feeling — there’s associated paperwork and people in charge of your work you need to negotiate with. Which isn’t me voting for office work over a writing life. If you’re a real writer, it’s compulsive. A part of your life you simply cannot pass up.

To rephrase, most writers also work part time if not full time, or cannot work because of other reasons. Someone once remarked to me they assumed writers sometimes chose certain genres for the money, but when one weighs up commitment vs the hourly rate as it works out, trust me, there’s a reason it’s often said that writers write for love over money.

Dragon #15

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Not one I found anywhere special — bought from a catalogue many years ago — but been with me for a good number of years. I use fake candles with it so as not to risk dripping wax on the figure. Larger than I expected when I got this fellow. Picture taken somewhere I used to live.

Reads of 2021

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Looking back at my favourite reads of 2021. I’ve tried to choose one a month, but for some there really wasn’t a choice, and towards the end of the year, I had more than one impossible option to choose between.

In January, I read Incubus, the first book I’ve read by Joe Donnelly. Though distasteful things happen to women in this book, without them the story wouldn’t work. One might call this the ultimate in evil child tales, but it passes beyond into true monster territory. For some, the book may feel too long, but the strength comes from the inexorable build. The power comes from the writing, the sustained sense of menace, which creeps under the skin and into the mind. A brilliant idea for the horror genre, expertly executed.

Next, I have to jump to April with my first book by Ania Ahlborn. Although lower down on my lists of favourites, I felt I had to list The Bird Eater by a woman of horror. The book truly takes off from Chapter Two because in Chapter One I felt the opening pages threw too many names and too much background at the reader, but once I got close to the end of what read like a prologue, I fell into the story. Once I got to the end, I realised how well plotted the overall story was, all the threads interwoven. The odd grammatical redundancy jarred me out of the story, but it’s otherwise superbly written with a proper sense of a descent into madness as someone’s psyche unravels, tormented by evil spirits perhaps of the supernatural world and of one’s own making. My first book by this author, but it won’t be my last.

In June I enjoyed another Firefly novels, The Magnificent Nine, by James Lovegrove. Book two of the Firefly novels. Not as enjoyable as the first, but primarily featuring Jayne Cobb, it’s still fitting, like watching an episode. Not as rewarding, but the next best thing and the closest fans are likely to get to their beloved Serenity and its crew these days. I wasn’t sure I believed one of the plot points, but am inclined to be forgiving to the books of my favourite series. I also love how they present these paperbacks and hope the quality in both writing and presentation continues.

Also in June, The Silent Companions, by Laura Purcell, surprised me. This gothic chiller takes off slowly but picks up once the ‘companions’ make an appearance. I love the idea of them in this well-plotted gothic mystery. Alas, it’s impossible to tell why without giving away the creepiest part of the book. I’m pleased to have stumbled across this book. The only (small) negative is the sound the author describes as a ‘hiss’ does not appear to relate to the cause of the noise. I would liken it more to a rasp, and the narrative does indeed call it a rasping hiss at one point, which made no sense to me, and didn’t seem to relate to what the protagonist experiences. That slight discrepancy aside, I thoroughly enjoyed the story.

I enjoyed the above book so much in July I picked up The Corset, also by Laura Purcell. Written differently to Purcell’s first book (The Silent Companions) in the first person, so with a different ‘voice’, still, this drew me in immediately. How best to describe Purcell’s work? Victorian gothic thrillers with supernatural slants, perhaps. Some books only reveal how well the plot works at the conclusion, and this murder mystery connecting two women from opposite sides of society is one such novel. This tale didn’t disappoint and pulls at the heartstrings. Despite not wishing to take on new authors adding to my To Be Read Mountain, I’m sorely tempted to continue reading more work by this author.

Another book picked up in July was Survivor Song, by Paul Tremblay. If looking for your average apocalyptic disaster infection outbreak story, this isn’t it. Instead, I stumbled into what the first-rate stories of this genre do best — focus on the survivors, this being the tale of two women connected by the shakable bonds of genuine friendship. While I wouldn’t call this book scary, it’s more effecting than that, containing true horror of a possible reality, not your average fairy-tale monster, reflecting light on the madness of humanity and the horror we watch and read in the safety of our darkened living rooms versus true adversity. Well-paced with ingenious ‘breaks’ in the narrative (gaps on the pages) that work on the emotions. The story of ’Nats and Rams’ is unforgettable. Painfully, tearfully, sorrowful.

The best book I read in August has to be The Elementals, by Michael McDowell. I’m so pleased to have read this. I loved the setting and the characters, which create a unique atmosphere for this haunted house story. The heat portrayed makes you want to lie around doing nothing but melting and reading this book. There are some truly spooky scenes, though I found the buildup more sinister than the ending. Towards the end, the book feels a little rushed because of the languid though absorbing journey to get there. Indeed, I found the slower parts of the book carry the more eerie aspects, so that when the story speeds up, as a climax should, it almost diminishes the scare, leaving me feeling the novel was over too fast. Still, the curious happenings and daunting disturbances are worth spending time with.

September gave me my favourite read of the year, but before we get to that, Quite Ugly One Morning, by Christopher Brookmyre deserves a mention. I have to admit some of the Scottish colloquiums escaped me, though I got the gist. This humorous thriller set in the shady world of the NHS is so perfectly plausible and entertaining, it’s almost a must-read. I loved the character of Parablaine and would definitely read more work by Brookmyre if not for my to-be-read mountain. Highly recommend.

No One Gets Out Alive, by Adam Nevill immediately presented itself as my read of the year. I would plough through Adam Nevill’s work if not for my to-be-read mountain and the fact that would leave me waiting for him to write more books to devour. In anticipation of the upcoming Netflix adaptation, I wanted to read the novel first. This is a horror story of two worlds, urban despair and cruelty wrapped up with supernatural dread and distress, and it’s difficult to know which contains the most terror. The story also takes a necessary tangent towards the end that piles on more anxiety, questioning the main character’s sanity. Much of the story is relentless, and we waited to read the book before we watched the film… which was good in a different way, but nowhere near as enjoyable as the reading experience.

October gave No One Gets Out Alive, a contender for first place: The Ruins, by Scott Smith. A book with a slightly misleading title, in that it led me to expect adventurers finding something terrible buried beneath the earth or in some old tomb. If I say it’s about a strange vine, no doubt many will want to move on, but this book’s saving grace and what lifts it above B-Movie status is it’s so well written. There’s no letup, and no doubt left in the reader’s mind. The narrative draws you into the characters’ plight, makes you root for them regardless of their personalities. Makes the reader plead for a rescue. The narrative, sadness, predicament, and dread are simply relentless.

Another high contender came in November: Kill Creek, by Scott Thomas. Although the character of Sam McGarver is the protagonist of this novel, all four fictional authors (McGarver, Cole, Slaughter, and the unforgettable Moore), are in a sense all main characters of this trip into horror. And like the work they produce, they represent various facets of the genre, which makes this (in some small way) a book that questions the meaning of horror as much as it’s a part of the category itself. Undoubtedly a slow burn, this book will naturally invoke mixed reviews, but it instantly drew me in and I happily went along for the ride. The horror comes in snippets until it reaches an ultimate pay-off. I throughly enjoyed this, though it’s not for those who want an in your face terror fest, or those who don’t have longer than average attention spans. My only negative is I have to wonder if people could carry on moving while suffering such severe injuries even though they’d be running on adrenaline, but this is fiction, would make an excellent film, and we’ve seen people suffer through worse in the make-believe world of the cinema.

Another book which deserves a mention in November was Fevre Dream, by George R.R. Martin. Martin is a writer best known for the Song of Ice and Fire series (A Game of Thrones), but if readers were to overlook his other work, that would be a pity. Fevre Dream is an easy reminder of what sets this author apart. A richly drawn tapestry of life aboard steamships ferrying goods and passengers up and down the Mississippi, blended with a gothic helping of vampire mythology. Most striking of all is how the author brings the steamboat captain, Abner Marsh, alive in full coarse realism. Never has a protagonist so ugly been so wonderfully memorable. The story at once romanticises its setting and characters, simultaneously making them powerfully gritty. It’s possible to feel the heat and damp and oppression of the steamboat work, the river, the weather, and of society itself. There’s something classic about this book (references to Mark Twain abound entwined with Bram Stoker, and that’s a fair definition). This is no lightweight vampire tale or novel. Good for those who like a richly portrayed backdrop to the action. Atmospheric, and beautifully layered storytelling.

I thought no more truly excellent books were to come my way in the final month of the year when I stumbled on in December, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, by V.E.Schwab. Lovely in hardback with a simple raised copper and blue design. Look under the dust jacket to see the attention put into every detail. The first quarter of this book felt a little overlong though I put that down to the tense not being one I favour, yet by the time I reached the end, the style seemed perfectly suited to tell this story. The more I read, the more I considered what life would be like without ties, without friends or family, and whether, at least sometimes, we truly need to be careful what we wish for. I believe I picked out at least one continuity error; however, despite any flaws, I thoroughly enjoyed this beautifully painful dark fantasy with a romantic subtext. A book which crosses genres. Someone destined to be forgotten makes for an unforgettable character. I loved her rebelliousness most of all. I even felt some affection for the terrible ‘darkness’ which transforms her life, and wondering who would truly win the final ‘battle’. Heart wrenchingly emotive with an ending which may require tissues.

With so many good books, I still feel No One Gets Out Alive is top of my list, with a few running an extremely close second.

Update Dec 2021

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Hi Everyone!

AT HOME:

Alas, my planned acupuncture got cancelled for various reasons, but I struggled through travelling in pain, so got to spend Christmas with relatives, then returned home for my birthday spending a few quiet days to get me and life back to ‘normal’ ready for the new year.

FILM/TV:

Watched a few Christmas films and has the age old debate of whether Die Hard constitutes a Christmas movie. I lean towards no. Just because a film is set at Christmas, it does not make a Christmas movie. However, what surprises me is everyone focuses on Die Hard but not Die Hard 2. Definitely a Christmas setting there. We watched both. One of my favourite Christmas films, is the original version of The Bishop’s Wife, starring Cary Grant and David Niven. One of those we watch almost yearly.

Watched the eagerly awaited season of The Witcher. I hope Netflix carries this through to the full conclusion covering all the books, and I know the books are a series I will reread one day. Alas, we learned Netflix won’t be making another series of Cowboy Bebop. Torn about that. I can understand why it failed, yet we would have watched.

Still watching Castle. Catching up with seasons 11 and 12 of the animated Archer. And we’re watching the US version of The Office. Whereas I usually dislike American adaptations of UK shows — the sense of humour rarely carries well — I have to say The Office is an exception. We enjoyed the English version, and equally like the US show. It has quite a British film and I often forget I’m watching a US series.

READING:

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, V.E.Schwab

Lovely in hardback with a simple raised copper and blue design. Look under the dust jacket to see the attention put into every detail. The first quarter of this book felt a little overlong though I put that down to the tense not being one I favour, yet by the time I reached the end, the style seemed perfectly suited to tell this story. The more I read, the more I considered what life would be like without ties, without friends or family, and whether, at least sometimes, we truly need to be careful what we wish for. I believe I picked out at least one continuity error; however, despite any flaws, I thoroughly enjoyed this beautifully painful dark fantasy with a romantic subtext. A book which crosses genres. Someone destined to be forgotten makes for an unforgettable character. I loved her rebelliousness most of all. I even felt some affection for the terrible ‘darkness’ which transforms her life, and wondering who would truly win the final ‘battle’. Heart wrenchingly emotive with an ending which may require tissues.

Invasive Chuck Wendig

If I graded this along with my favourite books, I might drop half a star, but basing this novel on its own merits and the genre, it’s a solid 4/5. One review on the cover claims it to be one for fans of Michael Crichton and I can understand why. Its fast pace and solid imagery makes for a book a reader can plough through. The threat feels real, as does the inevitable countdown to time running out. The march of endangerment is as inexhaustible as the unrelenting insectile invasion, though this is no B-Movie. There’s a disturbing note of truth on the evolutionary, environmental, and genetic interference scale that’s all too sadly believable. Of course, this is a stretch of the imagination, but in this type of story, that’s what the reader is looking for. An enjoyable read, though not for anyone suffering from Myrmecophobia (fear of ants).

A Simple Plan, Scott Smith

After reading The Ruins, I sought other work by this author, who appears to have written only one other fiction book. Most stories require the reader to root for the antagonist. Oddly, this book required no such investment for me. The characters are quite unpleasant, taking things that would shake many of us to the core in too casual a stride. It’s the excellent writing, and the swiftly escalating events that kept me riveted to this story. Having said that, it practically pushes those events to their limit. The reader needs to set disbelief on an extremely high shelf. With The Ruins, this was easier to do because of the supernatural circumstances, but this story is a thriller with a setting of reality making that harder. Still, I enjoyed the book to the last 100 pages where the repellant characters, particularly that of the lead, became far too irksome. I enjoyed the story, and appreciate what the writer did, but also found myself irritated even though I feel it was well worth reading. The closest person to an innocent (other than the baby and dog) is Jacob, owing to his childlike and easily led nature. Still… it’s something to create work that pulls the reader along when there isn’t a main character to cheer on. NOTE: It’s only one scene and over fast, but those who cannot abide animal cruelty possibly should avoid this; for me I struggle, though it ‘depends’ on the story. Here I felt the author made a terrible mistake, and it’s unnecessary. I get the function of the scene, but by then the reader doesn’t need to be reminded how low the character has sunk. I want to give this book 5/5, but because of a few quibbles, I must knock a star off.

Krampus the Yule Lord, Brom

Not the tale of terror I expected, but there’s still much to like about this book, not least of all the drawings by Brom, artist and author. I didn’t find the pace terribly fast, and I questioned Jesse’s patience/impatience, which seemed erratic, even though Krampus doesn’t give him much choice. In short, I would have liked the book to be a little more emotional, both in the feelings portrayed and what it invokes, but for anyone who likes the darker side of Christmas tales, this is easily deserving to be identified as classic.

Naomi’s Room, Jonathan Aycliffe

Some passages in this book feel more tell than show, no doubt because it’s written in first person, making the recollections of the protagonist’s investigation into the background of the hauntings occasionally a little tedious, but the spooky happenings were more immediate, speeding by, and kept me riveted so that I finished this book in a single day. The supernatural occurrences are unsettling as they should be, though not frightening. Still, the picture of child murder and the lonely cry of the restless dead is well portrayed, making Naomi a painfully real character. Surely a must-read for those with a liking for ghost stories, though some elements spoilt the story for me. Alas, I’m unable to say more without spoilers, and when reading a horror novel (which this is undoubtedly is), it’s hard to be selective regarding scenes of torment. What disturbs one reader another person will shrug off. What seems ‘acceptable’ is a matter of semantics. I thought this would be an excellent film.

WRITING

I plan to do a final edit and then submit a Work in Progress which until contracted I’ll call ST for now. I’ve a preliminary date for publication for March 2022.

My last publication in 2021 for pre-order was my short story, The Gift, in the Lethbridge-Stewart anthology Operation Wildcat published by Candy Jar Books.

http://www.candy-jar.co.uk/books/unitoperationwildcat.html

Stay happy and healthy!

Sharon x