Bøker utgitt av E Lloyd Kelly

How to Train a Wild Puppy Dog Named Manley is a Jamaican-yardy, hardcore romance novel, packed full of wry humor, metaphoric terms, ambiguity, and innuendos, for your reading pleasure.Libby Dahoust is a spectacularly beautiful girl of East Indian origin and a medical student at McGill University. And Manley? Manley Jaxtan Woodhardt is an overexposed, oversexed Jamaican-born divorcee on the rebound. Their background dictates that they should take diametrically opposite paths to life in general, and to love in particular. However, when both their paths were to have crossed, while on route to higher learning. Sparks began to fly. Hearts got tangled up in the mix and a rocky road seemed the only way forward. Will they manage to make it out, in one piece? Only time will tell. Not all men are dogs, no. Some are jack-as-is and monkeys too.

Why I quit the Black Christian church. A cleaning service was called in to clean dirty church laundry. The wash-day clothesline was growing longer by the day, laden heavy under the load. Stretching out behind the church building too, but not far enough out of sight of curious passers-by and parishioners alike.Parishioners are mad as well, at the whole debacle. But what we wanted was churches, more than any and everything else. So church it is. Until...

"Some Shitty Vacation," is a fictional story about a vacationing hitman from the narcotics underworld who found himself being drawn back into the very situation he was trying to escape in the first place. His escape plan was for both the short as well as the long term. He had planned on using this short-term trip to Montreal, to further research his long-term get-out plan. The one that he had been considering in recent times. The road leads all the way from Norfolk, VA to Montreal Quebec, and back. But some people just can't seem to get a learning break, can they?Seasoned with snippets of Jamaican Patois inserted here and there throughout, as may be found fitting. Yeah man, no doubt, a Jamaica yaad mi cum fram. Sorry, I meant to say, I'm Jamaican-born and bred, okay? Most of these stories and poems have been published as stand-alone pieces over the years but this is your chance at getting them all in one place. So here for you is; Collect Call.

Long ago, in the faraway kingdom of the Willow and Oak. There lived two neighboring tribes - the peaceful and humble tribe of the Willow, those were known as the forest dwellers, and the fierce and proud tribe of the Oak; the big-time town folks. For centuries, the two tribes lived in harmony, bound by a vow made by their ancestors in ancient times. The vow stated that as long as the river flowed and the sun rose, the two tribes would live in peace, and help each other in times of need. However, as the years passed, the tribe of the Oak grew greedy and arrogant. They coveted the fertile land and abundant resources of the Willow tribe and began to see them as inferior. The Oak tribe slowly began to break the vow and started treating the Willow tribe with disdain and cruelty. The Willow tribe, being peaceful by nature, did not retaliate but instead tried to reason things out with the Oak tribe and remind them of the vow. But now, this will make you whistle it out in your palms like blow-outs. Or try to. Just hot air was found coming through the rounded lips of the mouth.Theold man is looking on and seeing these things, and hearing by way of hisever-listening ear. He has been around for quite a long time. Long enough tohave been able to see and hear a lot, and now? This is quite another thing thathe's about to experience. The dude should have done more to maintain his statusand place in Cekkoland Ore. But was a little too careless again, I'm sure.So,you want something unique and different; right? This is it.Thisis not your typical girl meets boy, winning the joy, character-hoppingplot-wrapping sweetie-flick bit. This is an analytical look at a book,bookings, and crooks. As well as us carrying on with telling you about thecarryings-on of some; Gods, kings, and cooks.Theimmortal lone-rider is left burdened down with the task of bearing witnessalong the path, and recording it all for Mr. Wood-Rowe, and the rest of us; thelost, no? "No.""Yes, the tasks have fallen plumb upon him to look upon it, to do the records, and to tell these stories properly. But he's constantly being dragged back into the brawl, against his will at all." Move along, there's nothing here to see, just a mocking motley fool, and some poetry. TheSword, The Word, and the Writings is: A Novel: Real InkyTrail book series. Book 3 of the series Note. This story is told from a Carib-Jamericanadian perspective. In a richly blended language mix of; Jamaican patois, nonsense talk, and sensational spelling, sometimes. Yes, wordplay is the order of the day around here.

"Raw, Real, and full of Fun." New Hiking Trail Cast Shadow on the Tattooed is a work of fiction. Born out of some fool's wild imagination. Told in wry humor, and a feeble attempt at poetry. Yes, word play is the order of the day around here too. With snippets of Jamaican Patois inserted here and there throughout, as may be found fitting. Yeah man, a Jamaica yaad mi cum fram, sorry, I meant to say, I'm Jamaican born and bred-okay? These well-sculptured, firm-bodied Cekko-warrior girls traverse diverse dimensions astride long-legged Zebra-striped beasts in search of the lost Genodes. Dishing out their brand of peace and passivity liberally along the way, not even special agent Shadow was to be spared. Yes, Shadow casting was a regular everyday occurrence in the Cekkoland sphere. Until he was force-pushed out and into the humanoid spheres, and now, look. Look at what they have gone and done... Note: No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any way without the written permission of the rights owner, E Lloyd Kelly, except as in the case of brief excerpts or quotations used for purposes of critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction and therefore, any references to people and their names, places, events, etc. are purely and solely figments of the author's imagination, and should not be construed as being real.