Debbie Flint The Novelist

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Don't give up the day job DF or maybe she should but don't waste any more paper 'writing' these 'errrr 'books' Does she pay to publish them?
 
Published by Flintproductions! I wasn't going to part with 77p & clog up my Kindle.Amazingly the reviews were 5 star!
 
Mirage or Taboo? When did she write this, 1982?!! While reading these sexploits I do keep coming back to the couple in the Victoria Wood song Barry and Freda, what's the betting a Woman's Weekly comes into play soon? Probably just after the Piranhas have finished the nectarine. Aww Debs, you do make me laugh.
 
Like two piranha's on a nectarine?! Really.

It all sounds like Barbara Cartland if she took mind altering drugs.

I shall be away now like a giraffe on a penny farthing in winter....
 
Her eyes sparkled like tanzanite stones - Patricia slipped on her Birkenstocks

Her eyes sparkled like tanzanite - she slipped on her Birkenstocks - are you having a laugh??!!! :mysmilie_17:

Is this really from her book or is this a joke?

If you're not having us on then I can't believe it!, it sounds like an advert for QVC and that Clive sounds like a dead ringer for that Ralph guy who sells the pearls :mysmilie_13:
 
Oh my goodness..........

The evening was balmy, sticky and sweaty, and after three hours of energetic foreplay they were only just getting started, their erogenous zones muskily rubbing against each other, still fully clothed, soaked in secretions.
Patricia was like a banana just begging to be unzipped to reveal the tantalising fruit of her slender frame that had aged well like a fine wine. Things definitely hadn’t headed south for her, and the honeyed lights of the cabin made her look even more beautiful. Clive wanted to head south, but she was going to make him wait for it, she was going to break him down before delicately yielding to him, like an orchid to a bee. She would choose the moment – not him. She was the cat and he the mouse, for Patricia Clive was little more than a plaything, a puppet on a string.
 
Dermarome professional essential oils, there's a lot of them - for all types of imperfections: stretch marks, localized fat, cellulite, wrinkles. :wonder:
 
Oh my goodness..........

The evening was balmy, sticky and sweaty, and after three hours of energetic foreplay they were only just getting started, their erogenous zones muskily rubbing against each other, still fully clothed, soaked in secretions.
Patricia was like a banana just begging to be unzipped to reveal the tantalising fruit of her slender frame that had aged well like a fine wine. Things definitely hadn’t headed south for her, and the honeyed lights of the cabin made her look even more beautiful. Clive wanted to head south, but she was going to make him wait for it, she was going to break him down before delicately yielding to him, like an orchid to a bee. She would choose the moment – not him. She was the cat and he the mouse, for Patricia Clive was little more than a plaything, a puppet on a string.

Tis a joke yeah? Oh this is just a w f u l.
 

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