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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 · ย้อนยุค
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48 Chs

Chapter 26

"That's much better."Heather's trousers sat snugly at her waist, showing no inclination to slide down. Alison eyed her critically. "You don't think it could be that you're actually losing weight, do you?"

"I wish,"Heather said. "I gave up dieting years ago."

Nevertheless, Alison thought she did look slimmer. She didn't remember that Heather had a waist when she first met her.

~*~

The next few days seemed to pass very slowly. Alison felt fidgety. She had become determined to find out what had happened to Miss Blacker. Somebody must know and she was prepared to shake it out of them if necessary. But all she had was this preposterous story about a fat-eating vampire. She seemed to have come to a dead end and she couldn't think what to do next.

Heather was no help at all. She had been very quiet the last couple of days. Doing a lot of staring into space, sleeping in in the mornings and over-sleeping the siesta, reluctant to do anything more energetic.