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Tales of the Mantequero

Jenny Twist was born in York and brought up in the West Yorkshire mill town of Heckmondwike, the eldest grandchild of a huge extended family. She left school at fifteen and went to work in an asbestos factory. After working in various jobs, including bacon-packer and escapologist’s assistant (she was The Lovely Tanya), she returned to full-time education and did a BA in history, at Manchester and post-graduate studies at Oxford. She stayed in Oxford working as a recruitment consultant for many years and it was there that she met and married her husband, Vic. In 2001 they retired and moved to Southern Spain where they live with their rather eccentric dogs and cat. Besides writing, she enjoys reading, knitting and attempting to do fiendishly difficult logic puzzles. In July 2018 she won the Author Show TOP FEMALE AUTHOR Fantasy/Horror/Paranormal/Science Fiction award. . . .In the south of Spain at the beginning of the twentieth century, village people still believed in this particular fabulous beast. Sometimes they called it a mantequero, and sometimes a sacamantecas; it was a monster which looked like a man, but which lived in wild places and fed on human manteca or fat . . . Some people still do . . . This book is a compilation of the three Mantequero stories: Mantequero, Disappeared and Sins of the Father; with the addition of two new stories: The First Mantequero and The Last Mantequero.

Jenny Twist · 歴史
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48 Chs

Chapter 22

"I also had a very fat aunt who stank of wee,"she said. This was only partly true. Her aunt hadn't been very fat. "It was worse when she sat by the fire."

At this they all burst out laughing again, Alison included.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Heather grabbed Alison's arm. "What did you say?"she demanded.

This time Alison did stop to interpret and Heather laughed as well. The old man with the fat aunt lifted his hand to the barman and ordered more drinks. When they came there was more wine for Alison and Heather as well. And more tapas. In no time the conversation had turned to searching questions about the girls. Where did they live? How old were they? What did they do for a living? Why had they chosen to visit their village in February?

Alison answered as best she could, except for the last one, of course. She said it was a holiday for schools in England and she felt she needed to brush up on her Spanish.