The Haar and the Whore

About the Book

Ian was a man, a bloke; a 'blokey' sort of bloke; a man's man. He wasn’t for all that settling down and commitment to one person nonsense, not him. Ian wanted to have his cake and eat it, he wanted to be free to do and go whatever and wherever he pleased; which is why he settled so easily in with the Smudger’s and their life in Great Yarmouth.

Smudger is the150 year old name for a photographer. It goes back to the days of the very fi rst paper negatives; where, if you were a hack, a ham fisted rank amateur who took poor care of your negatives, then the consequence would be simple – they smudged.

The modern use of the term Smudger suited the monkey-men down to the ground. They didn’t care about their photography; Smudging was just a means to an end. It gave them the money in their pockets to buy their beer and unfettered access to a virtually endless stream of women. Young or old, big or small, good looking or just downright ugly, they didn’t care, it was a numbers game for them.

That was until three unsuspecting women tangled themselves in Ian's life and he in theirs. Through them he discovers the hidden depths and strengths of a woman, all women, the things he should have been taught at school; the things that should not have been be left to the vagaries of an accidental discovery.

Men have so much to learn about women, if they only knew quite how much, they’d realise they really don’t stand a chance.

About the Author

Kevin Wilton grew up in a sleepy backwater town in the Cider swilling West Country of England called Bristol. He travelled all over the country, first as a soldier in the Royal Army Medical Corps and then as a commercial photographer. Somewhere, lost in the huge void between being an Army Path Lab Tech class 3 and photographing the vastness of a nuclear power station, he spent two glorious summers in a sleepy, sea-side town about that was far to the east of England as it was possible to go and still keep your feet dry – Great Yarmouth. There Kevin worked long days in the sun and the rain, though more rain than sun; with men just like Basher, Barry, Martin and Mick-the-Perve, and a little squirrel monkey from Brazil called Howlett. As for the girls, you read and you decide. Kevin now teaches photography in another sleepy backwater town called Brisbane on the farthest eastern edge of Australia. Coincidence, I’d like to think not.