Troubador Poor Enid

Released: 28/06/2014

eISBN: 9781783066179

Format: eBook

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Poor Enid


Millionaire war veteran Art Schitthelm has lived through two wars, he’s determined not to see another. To ensure everyone keeps the peace he uses a bogus charity to inflict his own brand of twisted philanthropy on humankind. Although the application is barbaric, Schitthelm deems his remedies entirely necessary for the long-term good of the species. The arrogant Schitthelm is long used to getting his own way, but meets his nemesis in the shape of an unflappable, wine-swigging ignoramus called Lenny Plant. Plant, along with a corrupt priest and a murderous Cliff Richard fan, unwittingly play-out a sequence of bizarre events triggered by an accident with a lawn-mower. In and around a sleepy North Yorkshire village, Plant and his cronies create havoc with Schitthelm’s carefully thought out plans for the future, to the extent that the ageing war-dog is left with no choice but to send out an assassination squad. The boozy Plant continues with his day to day domestics, oblivious, both to the trail of mayhem he leaves in his wake, and the danger that stalks the shadows.




Brilliant – just my sense of humour.

by Glyn

Can’t put it down but can’t be discreet as it’s so funny.
I usually read Jane De Leon or Denise Grover Swank.
Andy Price is now on my list.

by Airfield Trading

Started reading this and haven’t stopped laughing – more of the same please.


I’ve been wondering who could possibly fill the hole left by the great Tom Sharpe. Andy Price certainly has the talent.
The story had me chuckling at every page.

by Mathew Myers

Laughing out loud.
People must think I’m nuts.
If you do nothing else, READ THIS BOOK!

by Sally

Price pushes it all to the precise point of irony – more or less wouldn’t do.
It is skillfully judged.

by Self-Publishing Magazine

This has to be one of the funniest books I have read.
What a mind!!

by Yvonne Arbuthnot Mojo Mums

Andrew Price

Andrew Price was born in Saltburn-by-Sea in 1961. Son of a policeman and displaced farmer's daughter he has two younger sisters who double-up as best friends.

Andy studied at Whiteheath Primary School in Ruislip Middlesex where he excelled at underachieving, reading Beano comics, and setting fire to things.

Somewhere between the ages of ten and twelve Andy failed his "Eleven Plus."

In 1972 the family settled in North Yorkshire. Andy attended Saint Francis Xavier Secondary School in Richmond where he successfully exploited the national programme of study to further demonstrate his remarkable ability to underachieve.

In 1977 Andy showed-up at Richmond High School for one year, gaining a leisurely 'O' level grade 'C' in English Language along with a basic working knowledge of a woman's physiology.

During the spring of 1982 Andy was sacked from his job at a local service station following his self-implementation of a personal bonus scheme. He learned from the experience and was subsequently never sacked again.

Almost without exception, every private company Andy has worked for went under within a year or so of his arrival.

Andy is extremely lucky: He has Barbara. Andy and Barbara are luckier still: They have each other - and they have Amy.

The mortgage is paid-off.

Andy Price can drink copious red wine and , at the same time, render the most credulous of incredulity incredulous, applying nothing but the witchcraft of bullshit.

He can also write a story.

"Poor Enid:"

The title isn't a reference to Enid's financial status; it's a plaintive comment on the miserable condition of affairs under which she labours following an unfortunate encounter with a lawn-mower.

Don't be fooled by the innocuous title - or if you are fooled, allow yourself to be fooled - so you can be shocked as you part the pages.

Whichever way you read it, you'll find it brutally funny, or else funnily brutal.

To all you readers who think you've read it all - well I'm afraid you haven't. Actually I'm not afraid, I'm worried - worried that you risk trudging through the rest of your days without reading this book.

I don't know how much the tale will cost you should you come to buy it,

but it won't be a fortune.

Whatever you pay you'll get a good return - I promise. You see I wrote the book for the reader, not for my own gratification, (although it did relieve an innate itch to create,) nor did I write for the glory. There is no glory in glory. As for money - I already have some.

The book is harmful, so if you're weak of mind, body or soul - be warned. I won't apologise in advance for the vulgarity, the dark humour, the agro nor the sneering sarcasm, it's necessary - of course it is.

The Author.

The Author. Shortly after this picture was taken the Author went to the pub.

You're more likely to have a nasty accident with a lawn-mower if you've been drinking alcohol.
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