AUTHOR'S CORNER:

AN ENDING TAKES A LIFETIME TO REACH!

Time takes its toll on most; there is no escaping it.  Waiting for God is no easy task, for the ticking of our clocks make for a noisy racket with intercepting memories and painful regrets.

 

Sybil King, an author of her time, a woman of substance, once admired, adored and loved by men, finds herself cheated and abandoned by her daughters and left to rot in a retirement retreat.  Where once the world was at her fingertips, she now seems to be barely touching the world or her nearest and dearest. There is life, it seems, in old age; for she befriends a group of like-minded women, together they form a poker club wickedly called Wretched Women, or WW for short.  Here the women break all the warden’s rules by sneaking in alcohol and cigarettes and use foul language as a form of rebellion, while reminiscing on past lives.  The headmistress and her twisted past, the actress who has loved and murdered, the Moroccan prostitute, the exotic dancer, the widow of an Arab brute and the television presenter who is confused about her gender; these are the fine members of society that make up the WW.

We reap what we sow, so be very careful; because the fruits of our labour come not as the organic delights to be enjoyed, but thoughts, memories and lurid shadows which follow us around and see us into our graves. 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wretched-Women-Sammar-Ally-ebook/dp/B01HOY9V5E/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1467211582&sr=1-1&keywords=WRETCHED+WOMEN

SOON.... TO COME....

AUTHOR'S CORNER;

OUT NOW!

WRETCHED WOMEN 

Time takes its toll on most; there is no escaping it.  Where once we were youthful, gorgeous and happy, all eventually fade away into frailty, wrinkles and discontent.  Waiting for God is no easy task, for the ticking of our clocks make for a noisy racket with intercepting memories and painful regrets.  We wait eagerly, yet fearfully as the ending is pending just round the corner… an ending that seems to take a whole other lifetime to reach!

Sybil King, an author of her time, a woman of substance, once admired, adored and loved by men, finds herself cheated and abandoned by her daughters and left to rot in a retirement flat.  Where once the world was at her fingertips, she now seems to be barely touching the world or her nearest and dearest.  In short, she has faded into age, as many do.  And behind her invisibility her memories serve as oxygen, her tears serve as water and her regrets serve as sustenance. 

There is life, it seems, in old age; for she befriends a group of like-minded women, together they form a poker club wickedly called Wretched Women or the WW for short.  There the women break all the warden’s rules by sneaking in alcohol and cigarettes and use foul language as a form of rebellion.

The story kicks off with April, the oldest member of the group receiving some disturbing news.  This prompts her to tell the others of her deepest secrets, which prompts the others to speak candidly about their lives.  

We learn about April, the retired headmistress who was forced to give up twin boys at the age of fifteen, and subsequently suffered psychological issues, compelling her to seek out one of them (unbeknown to him) posing as a pen pal, and  consequently striking up a romantic  relationship with him.  We learn about Elsa Klinger, a once famous west end actress, with a very colourful past, filled with affairs and murders.  We learn about Cynthia, who was once living in luxury as the prisoner wife of a rich Arab.  We meet Fern, who used to be an exotic dancer in her day.  Zara, an attractive Moroccan, who the group later discover used to be a prostitute with a sordid gang culture.  We meet the once famous television presenter, Luna, whose husband was a transsexual and later a transgender and her unconventional ways of keeping her marriage, who seems to be slowly showing her transsexual side once her story was told.  We learn so much about Sybil King, narrator of our story and once known author; her secret lovers, her children, her mother and the one big regret of her life – the son she gave up.

We reap what we sow, so be very careful; because the fruits of our labour come not as organic delights to be enjoyed, but thoughts, memories and lurid shadows which follow us around and see us into our graves.  

INTERESTED??? GO AMAZON KINDLE 
AND FIND ME IN A BOOK