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Around 20 years ago, an unfortunate epidemic struck the village of Brindley. It was known most widely as ‘the Name Curse’. Some, like Harry
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Stephen swayed down the street past the village centre, appearing somewhat drunk as a result of trying too hard not to be overly masculine,
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Hearing the muffled sounds of less-than warm fraternal argument floating down through the ceiling, Harry weighed up his options and decided
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Groaning wearily, Harry opened his eyes to find the face of Monday morning staring at him from not an inch away, a manic grin spread across its idiotic face. “The weekend,” Dorian had once said in one of his rare moments of p
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Harry was sat at his computer, indirectly looking to see if Oscar was on Facebook, though he kept telling himself that this was just out of
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Smith’s Gentlemen’s Outfitters was possibly the only workplace in Brindley, which lacked a professional theatre or a stately home, into whi
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“George?”1 / “Wow!”2 / “What?” Harry, wearing a challenging expression in the sense that it both issued a challenge and was a supreme effor
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“Grrrr-Ahhhhhh! Man-stand!” Gus hoisted himself to his feet with as much testosterone as he could muster, swaying back and forth on the spo
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Harry was not someone to whom preparing for parties came naturally. He simply was not designed for it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to put
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Such was the frustration that bubbled furiously up inside him, through his boiling blood all the way to the tips of his fingers that judder
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Chapter 1 - The Party1
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