The Three

I point to the volcanic rock that forms the base of the forest floor, and say that if the trees can grow on such a hard, unforgiving surface, then a new life can be built on the foundation of any hardship.

If there is a solar flare or a nuclear war, a thousand cans of pickled turnips aren’t going to save you.

But readers aren’t stupid, they can smell fakery a mile off.

What are you?' It was the first time I'd come out and said it. 'I'm Jess,' she said. "Who do you think I am? You're such a silly billy, Uncle Paul.

Zelna was forced to put Carlos in a care facility a couple of years ago, and when she moved to Philadelphia to live with her daughter, we lost touch. I miss her–I miss the care centre–being around other people who knew exactly what I was going through. We’d often laugh about the crazy things our respective spouses or parents did or said. I remember Zelna cracking up when I told her about Reuben insisting on wearing his boxer shorts over his trousers, like he was auditioning for the role of a geriatric Superman. It wasn’t funny of course, but laughter can be the best medicine, don’t you think? If you don’t laugh, you’d cry.

Mr Tumnus does look as camp as fuck with his little scarf tied jauntily around his neck. I suppose it isn’t outside the realms of possibility that he’d just been off cottaging with some centaurs in the forest.

Are we all, at heart, just Internet trolls?

The only way I can deal with it is to think that maybe that’s how Neville would have wanted to go. He loved those fucking lizards.

Like my girlfriend Denisha is always saying (she’s an Episcopalian), some of Jesus’ best friends were sex workers.

You never think it’s going to happen to you, do you?

There's a third and final book in The Three series planned out, but it isn't written yet. I have one more standalone novel to do first and then I'll crack on.

Not only was Bobby Small living in a Jewish household (although I know the Jews have their place in God’s plan) but Stephenie said she’d read in the Inquirer that he was one of those test-tube babies. ‘Not born of man,’ she said. ‘Unnatural.’ Then there were those stories about the English girl being made to live with one of those homosexuals in London, and the Jap boy’s father making those android abominations.

Imagine that being your job, huh, baby rat merchant?

I got into this business through my girlfriend Denisha. She’s a specialist, provides a service for clients who find it hard to connect with women. Just ’cause you’re housebound or in a wheelchair, doesn’t mean your sex drive’s gone.

Good listeners, I don’t need to tell you that now more than ever, we’re living in Godless times. We’re living in a time when the Bible is shunned in our schools in favour of scientific evolutionary lies, where many are expelling God from their hearts, where sodomites and baby murderers and heathens and Islamofascists have more rights in our country than good Christian men and women. Where Sodom and Gomorrah cast a pall over every aspect of our daily lives, and our world leaders are trying with all their might to construct the culture of globalisation favoured by the Antichrist.

Those body bags kept piling up. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about it. I still can’t eat fried chicken.

Are the nutters running the asylum?