The Bedroom Secrets Of The Master Chefs - Plot & Excerpts
It had rained and the fence posts had rotted and the wild dogs had got in. Now there were no chickens left. He wasn’t concentrating. He felt dizzy: dizzy and sick. The huge, brightly coloured Star Trek: The Final Frontier poster on the wall, the one Ian had given him, which showed a Starship Enterprise bursting out of a black hole, it resonated and throbbed, orchestrating the dance of his raw nerve endings. Rising shakily from his mobile computer desk, he staggered back to his bed, sweating and nauseous under the duvet as he heard his mother’s approaching footsteps on the stairs outside. Joyce Kibby wearily ascended the steps carrying a silver-effect tea tray. It seemed almost too much for her thin arms, burgeoning with a large plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, tomato, a smaller one with a formidable stack of toast, as well as a pot of tea. She steered it into her son’s bedroom, startled at how rough he looked today. — Brought you some breakfast, son. God, Brian, you don’t look well at all.
What do You think about The Bedroom Secrets Of The Master Chefs?
