IT’S said that truth is stranger than fiction; it is and I can prove it.
When I received an email from a Chris Nand in Fuengirola it was just another ghost-writing enquiry. I didn’t even know if the person wishing me to fictionalise their life story was male of female.
Already working hard I wasn’t enthusiastic but the enquirer persisted and I got stuck in. It told of a youngster’s odyssey from a primitive Fijian village to a hoped for fortune in the West.
On his way to his destiny he was absorbed by
All I knew about that remote island is my once having a Fijian friend. We shared a job and apartment in
As he looked like a suntanned Elvis Presley he was great company when on the pull; boys will be boys.
I was sure his name was Nand but maybe the name is common in the
You’re going to suggest he knew me? Not so, I use a pen name, which he couldn’t possibly have known. Of all the billions of people on earth; we two, from earth opposites, met by chance in
Now you decide which is the strangest; that coincidence or his life story? From his grass hut beginning Chris had fought in the ring to championship level. He did so because he was on a mission; to reach
I have no wish to give anything away but I can assure readers of Chris Nand’s ‘Returned to Devil’s Island’ that, apart from it being an enjoyable and often riveting read there will be times for deep reflection.
There will be drama that will cause you to break off to recover your senses.
The odyssey ends with a twist that will so wring the hearts of readers I suggest Kleenex as a bookmark. At a certain revelation the reader will get up from their seat and say; ‘Well I’ll be damned.’
This book equals Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. An offer has been made on the film rights.
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