Fans of Ian F. Svenonius, take note: Ian is embarking on a nationwide tour to promote Censorship Now!!
Marlowe felt his life crumbling around him. He had recently been called before the Privy Counsel, a combination grand jury, federal prosecutor and Supreme Court. His friend and roommate, the playwright Thomas Kyd, had been arrested for treason . . .
After the meal we headed back to the Groucho Club. We were a few drinks in now. We went upstairs and had some cocaine in the restroom . . .
University College, London. Johnson marched me through the clipped campus, down echoing corridors, past alabaster busts and locked doors. At the end of a long corridor, he stopped at a door marked Private.
“It’s never too late for university, Cartier,” he said, knocking.
The stink of Thames mud woke me and I knew he was back . . .
To celebrate the release of Bernardine Evaristo’s Mr. Loverman, we’re very pleased to feature Chapter One in its entirety!
It took the bulky female bouncer all of five seconds to find the stash in Sallie’s bra: “Now, what’s this, love? Next time keep it in your knickers.”
Damn it—now she’d have to try to score inside . . .
The Caribbean is, above all, a sentiment, a rhythm, a way of life. In this respect, I grew up in a place that is both essentially Caribbean and, at the same time, desperately seeking to avoid its Caribbean nature . . .