11 YEARS’ TWISTED TIMES – New Release (NOVEL)

In 11 years, you can grow from a simpering prepubescent virgin to a slut, transform from an altar boy to the most wanted criminal, and fall in and out of love so many times it stops mattering. In 11 years, a socialite can turn from a black pot to an albino, you can become a parent or a killer; you can outrun the law or end up running from yourself.

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In 11 years, you can grow from a simpering prepubescent virgin to a slut, transform from an altar boy to the most wanted criminal, and fall in and out of love so many times it stops mattering. In 11 years, a socialite can turn from a black pot to an albino, you can become a parent or a killer; you can outrun the law or end up running from yourself.
 
11 years is the length two presidents can rule a democratic country, or a president can rig elections two times. It is the time a child was born, crawled, knew how to talk and walk, went to kindergarten, started school, and now that child should be given condoms while going to school.
 
In 11 years, you can tell a story, be forgotten, or perhaps die, and people will never talk of you again. And in 11 years, you can write a novel. 11 years is how long it took me to write this novel. It’s how long it took to edit the book, rewrite it, re-edit again, rewrite and reedit and rewrite again.
 
TWISTED TIMES: Son of Man is the story of the life and times of a hard incorrigible coffin robber turned law-abiding citizen who calls himself Son of Man. Could he be Jesus? Is he Jesus? It is a story rife with passion, love and hate in equal measure, enough sex to get you sexting, corruption, money and the underworld.

 
The times twist and the bad guy joins the good guys. Gory murders follow, and exiles, and lastly self-exile. There is only one place left to run to, the Church, but even there there’s nowhere to hide.
TWISTED TIMES: Son of Man is the first in the TWISTED TIMES Trilogy, a story of intrigue, betrayal, love, and crime.
 
 
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Sex on the Beach

A month after breaking my heart alongside my virginity, the man responsible for the crime committed the same heinous act with my younger sister. We were living in Mombasa at the time, on a beach house at the very edge of the Indian Ocean overlooking its warm waters.

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