Are you considering a dirty weekend away? Somewhere secluded, off the beaten track, an idyllic bolthole where the locals are discreet and you're unlikely to get caught cheating on your spouse? If so, you may decide to pick up the AA Guide To The English Cotswolds and who could argue with your choice? Village after chocolate box village of honey coloured cottages and modest country manors. Roses around every door and a constabulary that still apprehends n'er-do-wells by bicycle.
You might be tempted to let your guide book fall open where it will, to stick a pin in a random page and call the first hostelry your eyes settle upon. But before you pick up the phone, may we make a suggestion? Should your pin, by some unfortunate mingling of random forces and bad karma (you are cheating on your spouse after all), skewer the entry for Sweetchurch, do yourself the greatest of favours and try again. Yes, we know it sounds wonderful, that you can just imagine it now; forty-eight hours of sun-dappled, ice cream drizzled, guiltless shagging in the bosom of the English countryside, but trust us when we tell you, pick somewhere else.
Go wine tasting in France, get utterly wankered in Dublin, book in to the Premier Inn at Watford Gap for all we care. Just don't be fooled by the images your guidebook contains, of sparkling streams, blossom drenched honeysuckles and shaded churchyards. It's all mere fairy dust. A thin veneer to sucker the unwary, part the sightseer from his cash and the adulterer from his soul. You see, what you haven't grasped is there's something rotten in the parish of Sweetchurch, and just like you, on your dirty weekend away, it likes to go for a stroll after dinner.
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The Rehabilitation Of Bastien Lynch
ParanormalWelcome to Sweetchurch, where your sins will find you out. Some might say that the Reverend Alexander Duchesne drinks too much, but so would you if your office was right next door to a hellmouth. Fortunately for the Reverend, Lucifer pays little att...
