Ruby Allure's Books

Ruby Allure's Books
Ruby Allure's Books

Wednesday, 28 October 2015

Labyrinthine Chapters 10-12



To Listen on audible:



The old woman glanced at her watch; she had two miles to walk to the designated position. She felt tired and weary, just old. Admittedly, there were other ways to travel, it was just she should not influence anything and definitely not talk to anyone. “This one will be perfect,” she croaked.


Olivia was late, “This is so strange. Why would that happen?” She took a seat at her large, mahogany desk and pulled her sketchbook from a drawer. Click. The lead in her pencil was ready. What was it? Connector, time frame, eyes and Retina Blue, she scribbled. There was no obvious connection.

Leaning back in her chair, Olivia gazed into space. Her head swooned. The image of the being’s eyes haunted her. Carefully she drew the Connector’s eye. Were they green or turquoise? Clear? Was there a pattern or was it missing a pattern? With a loud sigh she rested her head in her hands, she felt exhausted, ill, weak and insane.

“Where’s Max when I need him? I need his rationale,” she muttered.

It was too much – too weird! Olivia took a deep breath; it had not intended to kill her. It? Was ‘it’ mutated or some kind of clone?

Olivia paused mid-sketch; its eyes weren’t human. What does that mean? She chewed her pencil and attempted to retrace the previous events. What had happened before she woke up? When had she been beaten? Why couldn’t she remember? Olivia pinched herself out of courtesy. She had done that many times as a child. Yes, she had experienced visions before. Usually stress triggered them. Nevertheless, they were just kid’s visions - they happened with over-active imaginations.

Olivia rested her head in her hands; it was happening again, the creativity was taking over. When she was young, she would get so involved in her inner landscape that she could get stuck. Hours and hours of daydreaming enabled her to travel through ornate mental labyrinths, the source of her inspiration. Of course, she never told people where she got the images, they would never understand and she certainly could not show them. Olivia huffed, it was there again, the events that took place when she was thirteen. That was when the labyrinth had become the place to escape and hide. The door was opening and it was calling her. If she went in again she feared she would never return. She had almost died there once and she did not intend to allow that to happen again.

Something sparkled from amongst the shag pile. Olivia dashed over, picked up the tiny ornament and stared at it. “It’s empty - but it’s real.”

Within a second, the ornament shattered and disintegrated in her hand. A glittery substance remained.





Max strolled along the promenade next to Bournemouth beach. It was a warm summer’s day, so tourists clustered in droves close to the pier. On the edge of the beach, Max found himself the perfect view of sun-lotioned, glistening bodies and bikini-clad breasts. It was beautiful. From such a vantage point, he could select a variety of potential conquests to prey upon. With his hotel just two minutes away, it was perfect. The sales conference had finished two days ago and he was simply enjoying the view.

In a matter of weeks, when he completed his contract, he would be free of her, the drain. He could have whatever he wanted - whoever he wanted. Max began the stroll back to his hotel and glanced at his reflection in one of the pier shop windows, he looked shattered. He wondered how much more emotional support he could provide Olivia. It was draining, but he was close to the payout.

A raven landed on a post close to where Max was admiring himself. It squawked but was ignored.

Max smoothed his hair; he had the image, but certainly did not have the collateral. He posed in his lavish car, chosen purely for sex appeal. He dealt in cars; he needed the best - of course. Admittedly, it was not his own, he could never afford such a vehicle with all his debt. Max turned his back to a group of giggling girls and watched them in the mirrored window. One particular petite blonde caught his eye and smiled back. He intended to ‘have’ her by the end of the day.

He glanced at his mobile phone, Olivia’s number was on the display ready to dial. He shook his head; Olivia was business, the blonde, on the other hand, was potentially unadulterated pleasure.





Olivia assembled her sketchbooks and shoved them into her green corduroy bag. She checked herself in the mirror and adjusted some of her dark ringlets. She searched her scalp for cuts - nothing. Why did she feel so bruised? She paused by the mirror, she’d changed so much of late. At least she was recognisable now, rather than the withdrawn skeleton she had been through her years of ‘escape’. The mind is a powerful tool, Olivia, but your body still needs to function. She rearranged her hair, picked up her bag and made her way out of her apartment.

Descending the remaining steps into the garage, Olivia clicked her car key. Her purple Peugeot sat waiting. It had been a birthday present from Max. She often wondered how he had raised the money.

Turning the key in the ignition, Olivia revved the engine and drove off at speed. The events of the morning spun through her mind. Some lively music would distract her. That was exactly what she needed: a distraction.

To make it to the Tate gallery in Pimlico, Olivia had to cross the Hammersmith Bridge and it was nearing rush hour. She was already late and the traffic would not be kind. What’s more, when she arrived she would have to deal with a sweaty, angry maniac. Olivia unconsciously shook her head. How do I explain?




Guy resembled the statue of David, but in the flesh, albeit David’s male appendage. He did, however, have large feet and strong hands. In his early thirties with dark hair and sky blue eyes, he struggled with the perfect white female statuette he had carved. He admired her perfection as he wrapped her carefully in some thick, cream canvas and took one last glance at his beautiful sculpture. He hated parting with her after so much time and effort.

He climbed onto his motorbike and wedged the statue by his heart. He adjusted his leather riding jacket and left just the head poking out. Guy looked down and smirked. The small head peering from the jacket looked ridiculous. Smiling to himself, he kick-started his bike. He had to cross London in rush hour. I hate it. London drivers - God help me!


The old woman reached the meeting point and paused. I suppose I should sit down and wait until it happens- it’s nearly time. She adjusted her tatty floral skirt before she sat on some cool, marble steps beside a series of traffic lights. Someone will have to calm the traffic. Out of boredom, she examined her overgrown, curling, toenails. They were aggressively poking out of her worn, leather sandals. They need cutting.

She was early, she hated that. It meant people would witness her presence before the incident occurred. At least she had time to rehearse her lines. “The eye is the gateway to the soul - not very original... Okay... The eye is the gateway to the soul, the eye contains all information - it is not to be tampered with, and it will change everything when discovered.” 

The old woman coughed a phlegmy cough and wiped her mouth. “The eye is the gateway to the soul. Time and instance are reflected within it. Within the eye is the divine - oh shit, I always forget that bit!” she said gruffly and scratched her neck. That’s why being old is such a bloody conundrum. When you finally have knowledge, you cannot bloody remember it for the life of you. What you do bloody remember you repeat. Oh to remember…To understand.

Ivy glanced at the dolls, “what are you staring at?”

A passer-by threw a coin sympathetically at the old woman. It bounced off her head and spun on the ground. “She thinks I’m bloody mad and now she’s upset the balance. How am I supposed to do this properly if the rules constantly get broken?” 

The old woman looked up; before her stood a figure dressed in black.

“Give me the coin -,” said the powerful, sexless voice.

The old woman passed the coin obligingly.

The figure spun the circular metal piece into the air.

She watched the coin arc and land before the passer-by. The coin pinged as it collided with the ground and compelled the passer-by to pick it up. 

The old woman looked up at the figure. “I thought it was about time you showed up,” she said huskily.


Yey!!! Love Hunt 2 - The Game is out on audio!!! Yipee

Morning everyone, sooooo excited... Little dance time. Love Hunt 2 has just been released on audio. It is the second in the series and Helen, the narrator is amazing! Yipeee! I genuinely hope you get to cry laughing in public when you hear this one!!!
Love Hunt II: The Love Game:, Book 2 | [Ruby Allure]

Labyrinthine Chapters 7-9



The answerphone beeped. Olivia listened to the message and glanced at the intruder; it stood with its arms folded shaking its head. “Don’t trust him. His tone reveals he’s a liar.”

Olivia ignored the comment as she grappled to sit upright. “You know what? I don’t get this... What are you doing here? What do you want from me? If it’s money...”

“Why does it always have to be about money? Do I look as though I have the slightest interest in shiny pieces of metal?”

What did that mean? “Then…?”

“As I said... I’m waiting.” The person in black paused and glanced out of the window and back to the hourglass in front of it.

“Are you some kind of weird stalker of ex-child prodigies?” asked Olivia.

“God, no!” The intruder leant against the wall and sighed. “Do you understand the concept of timing?”  

“In relation to what?” asked Olivia glancing at the door.

“Don’t bother thinking about escape. There isn’t time... And the timing is in relation to the universe,” it responded.

What did it mean? How could she get out? She squinted and touched the back of her head. It was still painful. Olivia frowned; the intruder was real, wasn’t it?





The art agent clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “She’s done it again! How many times do I have to endure this behaviour?”

Richard, the agent, attacked his mobile phone and pressed re-dial.

“She’d better be on her way! Or... or I’ll...” he muttered. Unconsciously he stamped on the black and white patterned marble floor of the gallery. The phone rang.

“This is Olivia, please leave a message,” said the answering machine clicking on.

“Where the bloody hell are you? Get your pathetic arse over here now! I will not take this shit anymore! You will get here and put this exhibition together or we both lose everything!” he yelled. When he was finished, he snapped the phone shut. Smack! It collided with the floor. The agent loosened his collar; beads of sweat caressed his forehead and dribbled down his nose. Clasping his chest, he groaned and swayed.




Olivia’s instinctive response was to recoil while the verbal darts flew from the answer machine.

The intruder appeared entertained by her response.


Smiling, the intruder watched the last few golden grains trickle through the timer.

“That’s it, my timing’s done,” it said calmly. 

“No! What? You held me at gunpoint so my bloody arsehole of an agent could have a go at me? What kind of weirdo are you?” she demanded.

The intruder turned its back on her and shook the hourglass.

“Yep, the timing is perfect. Time to go. We did well. Er… Thank you.”

She flushed red. “Wait! What are you and who are you working for? Why did you do this?” 

With its back to her, the intruder removed its dark glasses. For a moment, it paused and blinked a couple of times.

Olivia recoiled, “What the...?” She dug her fingers into the carpet and jammed her feet into the floor. Her instinct was to escape but all she could manage was to shake her head.

“I work for someone higher. I am known as the Connector and the timing is falling out,” it said casually. “It’s all got a bit chaotic, usually I wouldn’t take such measures…”

“You’re mad!”

The Connector’s thin lips curled. “Believe what you wish.”

Olivia shifted to kneeling. “What on earth are you?” asked Olivia, tears trickling down her cheeks.

The Connector waited, it expected the inevitable.

Urgently, she grabbed her stomach and suppressed a wave of nausea. Goosebumps prickled all over her body.

It glanced back at the hourglass, “I have overstayed my ‘time’ and witnessing my eyes will help you in the future - we will meet again.”

“But I don’t want to meet again!”

“The conscious choice is not yours and it will be a much nicer experience next time. I won’t bring the weapon.”

Olivia hugged herself; the Connector’s eyes were large and clear. They were so beautiful, so turquoise. Yet there was something missing.

The Connector gestured, “By seeing my eyes you will know what you are looking for - what is extra in you and what I am missing. You are now on a search for Retina Blue: it will be the genius behind your work. Think of it as a divine gift.”

It paused and gazed into her eyes, “You are very lucky - if luck exists,” it smirked.

“Retina Blue? What on earth does that mean?” she asked in a dazed tone.

“I said our time is up! The rest is up to you.” The Connector turned towards the window, paused for a second and glanced back.

“Olivia, consider the people you have in your life. A lot of them are arseholes. Time to clear them out! Transformation is coming!” It grinned, waved, ran and then jumped.

Olivia scrambled urgently to standing and sprinted towards the window. Her glance navigated one hundred and eighty degrees. Nothing. It had disappeared... How was that possible?

The space between the ground and the window was empty. There was no evidence and nowhere for it to go. Nothing. The only other visible living entity was a squawking raven perched on a chimney of the apartment block across the street.

“Go to routine Olivia,” she whispered to herself.
To listen to Labyrinthine on audible:


Tuesday, 27 October 2015

Reviews for CLAN DESTINE


Clan Destine Reviews

Clan Destine: Dead Women Have Vendettas | [Ruby Allure]
Now imagine this - after having an intensive day at work where all manner of incident is kicking off, you have an intuition and think I just fancy reminding myself of my books and I find these two lovely reviews for CLAN DESTINE. I can tell you  - they made my day! Thank you!

"Drama, Drama and more a good way"

This was definitely a very good book. There are a lot of twists and turns in this book which adds a nice bit of suspense to the mystery of Eve's previous life and her current situation. The main character, Eve/Jane, was psychologically messed with so much that at times it seemed a bit much. While the premise is not that original and some aspects of the book were a bit out there, I still enjoyed it very much. The narration was excellent and I highly recommend this book to lovers of mystery, suspense and thriller novels. On a serious note, the statistics noted in the novel with regard to domestic violence and crimes against women was a real eye opener.
0 of 0 people found this review helpful
    Frode 10-20-15
    Frode 10-20-15 Member Since 2015
    Norwegian in a English world!

    "Dead Women Have Books"

    Clan Destine: Dead Women Have Vendettas by Ruby Allure is my third book by Ruby Allure. AND: Its the best! Money Farm and The Office Zoo are both funny and good. This is darker, and i like, no wait; I freaking love it! Yes this not the most funny one, no it does not have the lough out loud moments, but the humor works even where it is a thriller. I recommend all the books i read by Ruby, and i cant wait to see what she is going to do next.

    Mil Nicholson is the perfect voice for this book, her british accent is just what this book need. It is read with love and i do feel that. 11 hrs and 17 mins never feels boring, uninteresting or just bad. It feels right!

    Ruby Allure is maybe new to you, but i see all bright things in her future.

    I was given this book for a honest review.

    Publisher's Summary

    How would you feel if you knew there were women out there who worked to protect the innocent from the cruel, depraved, and vindictive people who walked Earth? The Feminas, an elite group of women trained to assassinate in calculated feminine ways, work for the CLAN. They don't use guns or their bodies as lures; instead they are calculated, precise, and not easily traced when removing their targets. They are the "grey women" who blend in, observe, and create perfect accidents.
    Eve, one of the Feminas, excels at target eradication. However, her compulsion for perfection causes the CLAN concern. The more she attempts to conceal her tapping to the beat of 10, the more she feels she's breaking down. The problem is that when one suppresses emotions, then the trauma will rise in other ways. So how can Eve maintain her perfect targeting record and reconcile her denied self without facing a whitewash process?
    ©2015 Ruby Allure (P)2015 Ruby Allure

    To listen on audible:
    Clan Destine: Dead Women Have Vendettas | [Ruby Allure]

    Labyrinthine Chapters 4-6


    At that precise moment, a ragged, jaded old woman with a plume of matted, white hair clung to a trolley as it careered down a steep hill. She laughed hysterically to herself whilst muttering to the three dolls perched on the wire mesh. Each doll was dressed as an angel and gazed into the distance with crooked doll eyes. Onlookers gazed at the eccentric old woman.
              “You haven’t seen me, you’ll forget… I forgot... so will you.”
    The time had come. She had been called. She had a role to play; she just wished she knew the source of the knowledge.
    Olivia pulled her knees into her chest and sat with her back against the white wall. Whenever she moved, she winced. Had she been beaten? Drugged? 
    “What do you want from me?” she asked again.
    The intruder made a sideways glance, “I don’t want anything from you in particular.”
    “Look - stop playing games. I know you’re here to…” Olivia gestured at the dark shape.
    It waved the object like a toy. “Oh this... No, you have it all wrong. It’s not so much that I’m here to kill you - it’s a mere warning. There are powers at work of which you have no understanding. And it’s far better you know of such things now, before you make any discoveries.”
    Olivia gazed suspiciously at the person before her: had someone sent it? Chewing her lip, she frowned. Why warn an artist trying to make a comeback? Olivia glanced at the door. Could she get past?
    “I know what you’re thinking and I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” it said.
    Max grabbed a white towel from the rack and admired his perfectly sculpted physique in the mirror. He spent hours at the gym pounding the machines for that very reason; he was attractive and knew it. He could have anyone, but he had become ‘stuck’ with Olivia. She was the deal, and he was attached to her until the exhibition was complete.
    He glanced at his mobile and huffed; he had to call her. Reluctantly he dialled and waited. After three rings, Olivia’s answering machine clicked on.
    “Good morning, darling. I hope everything is okay with the exhibition. I wish I could be there to support you but you know how these conferences go. Work, work, work! Anyway, good luck with the hanging – you know it will look fantastic. Anyway lo…ve you and see you when I get back.”
    He checked his watch seven-thirty am and frowned. He called her mobile. No answer.
    “Where are you Olivia? You hardly sleep so what are you doing? Get that bloody work up and get me my money!”

    To listen to Labyrinthine on audible:


    Monday, 26 October 2015

    Labyrinthine Chapter 2 & 3






    In the exhibition hall of an exclusive art gallery, a plump, fuming, fifty-something art agent paced up and down muttering under his breath. As he loosened his tie, his shifty eyes darted about in agitation. Hunching his shoulders, he grew increasingly rigid.

    “That girl’s always late! It’s her last bloody chance!”

    He scraped his chubby fingers over his balding head.

    “Complete and utter disrespect! What does she think I am?”

    He paused by a white framed window and stared out. For a moment, he just shook his head and checked his watch. I’m sick of it! If she doesn’t get here soon, I’ll have her bloody killed, that way her work might be worth something!

    The agent’s face grew increasingly crimson, “This is her last bloody chance!” he spat.




    In a luxurious hotel, overlooking Bournemouth’s sandy beaches, Max laid on his king-size bed, smiling at the naked woman before him. He admired her curves as he traced his finger across her tanned, lean stomach. She smiled a coy smile, removed his hand from her hip, and slipped on her black, satin dress. “Time for me to go,” she said.

    He sighed, “You don’t really have to go, do you?”

    “You know I do.”

    She gazed at him, bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Max gazed at her breasts and then into her eyes. She shook her head, turned, and glanced over her shoulder as she walked towards the door.

    He watched the elegant woman leave the room and adjusted himself. He would never see her again.

    “Damn, I have to call Olivia!”

    Max yawned, rolled over and reached for his mobile. He resented having to call Olivia. She had an exhibition looming and would be at her wits end. Did he really need to deal with all that stress? He huffed; what he put himself through just to be with her was ridiculous. Max smiled wryly; he had his reasons and it was nearly time.
    To listen to Labyrinthine on audible:

    Saturday, 24 October 2015

    Suspended Inspiration

    Have you ever been in suspended inspiration? I guess you might wonder what that is... Well it is the time when a project completes and a new one is emerging in the unconscious awaiting mental birth. It reminds me of when I trapeze artist lets go of the bar before reaching out to grip the one to take them to safety. Suspended Inspiration is the space in between where the idea is germinating before the seed emerges.
    Image result for inspiration
    Well this week I considered inspiration and felt the need to share a few chapters of Labyrinthine  since it is receiving a lot of attention...

    To give you an idea:

    Olivia, a visionary artist who fell by the wayside, discovers a way to access her creativity through the inner labyrinths. After visiting Labyrinthine, she awakes to find a mysterious figure holding a gun to her head. The episode triggers a series of events that reveal her boyfriend is attempting to swindle her, her agent has defied death and there is an underlying structure to people's life timings.
    Rapidly, her world spirals into chaos. She learns that everyone on the planet has a divine blueprint contained within the iris of their eye. Unfortunately, there is a loophole in divinity. When death erases the blueprint, those who defy death affect the timing of everyone else on the planet. It seems the answers lie within Labyrinthine. However, the wisdom comes at a price.







    Live life to the full, feel life in your heart

    and relish every experience.


    Thank you for inspiration.




    When an eye shows clarity and light, a connection to the soul is revealed.

    When an eye is devoid of the celestial blueprint, the soul is lost...

    it becomes Retina Blue


    The moment of awakening came from the most unexpected source, at the most inconvenient time. It plunged a person’s life into complete disarray - that was how it was supposed to be.

         Olivia squinted in pain, rays of light shone directly into her eyes from the window. Her apartment looked bleary. She lifted her face from the floor and peeled some sketches from her cheek. Instinctively she checked the back of her head for blood. Nothing. Her black, curled hair was matted but there was no wound. Through the blur, something darted across the room. She froze. An androgynous figure wearing black was moving closer.

    Inhaling hard, she shook her head. What the..?

    The silence bristled.

    A dark shape in the intruder’s hand caught her attention. ‘It’ intended to kill her.


    “When you’re good and ready we will talk,” it said.

    Its voice was deep and confident - mysterious. “That’s once you stop bloody fidgeting!”

    Olivia stared. It did not return the glance, instead its eyes, behind dark glasses, remained fixed on an ornate, shimmering hourglass. It appeared to be counting something down.

    “What have I done? Who are you? Who sent you?”

    “Shhh! I’m waiting,” said the figure.

    “Waiting for what?”



    Dealing with Distraction

    Dealing with Distraction
    Focus and distraction sit at opposite ends of the scale in terms of productivity. However, as life increases pace our attention span decreases. With the continued increase of gadgets, devices, emails and phone calls is it any surprise our capacity to focus is becoming increasingly limited? Now, I remember a lecturer at university advising me when making a presentation; make sure you break it up because the maximum attention span a fellow student has is twenty minutes. I remember thinking ‘only twenty minutes?’ until I researched the average attention span in 2015 and look at this:

    ·         In 2000 the average attention span in humans was 12 seconds

    ·         In 2015 the average attention span in humans is 8.25 seconds

    ·         In 2030 will the average attention span for humans be 4 seconds?

    ·         In 2000 the average attention span of a gold fish 9 seconds

    ·         In 2015 The average attention span of a goldfish 9 seconds

    ·         In 2030 the predicted average attention span of a goldfish 9 seconds

    Does anyone feel a little concerned?

    I thought I would then research a few statistics regarding attention span taken from the Statistic Brain Research Institute:


    ·         25% of teenagers measured forgot major details of close friends and relatives

    ·         7% of people measured had forgotten their own birthdays (some on more than one occasion)

    ·         30 times per hour is the average amount of times an office worker checks their mail

    ·         150 times per day is the average amount of times that mobile users check their phones
    ·         60% of disruptions come from email and phone calls

    So with all this to distract us then how do we focus?

    ·         The first thing to do is become aware of our distraction habits. What is it that distracts us and how regularly does it happen?

    ·         On the other side of distraction ask yourself when do you focus?

    ·         What makes it easy for you to focus?

    In Zen, concentrated focus is known as ‘flow’.
    ·         What is the easiest way for you to achieve your optimum state of flow?
    ·         What is your optimum time for flowing?
    ·         When you have worked out what works for you then do you notice a pattern?
    ·         With flow in mind, can you break your work down into regular periods of flow?

    The five best pieces of focus and anti-distraction advice:
    ·         Make a list and be deliberate in all that you do
    ·         Make self-imposed deadlines. Set your self a realistic time limit to complete a task and do it in that time. Bear in mind Parkinson’s Law where work expands to fill the time available for its completion
    ·         Don’t always be available and find ways of being unavailable until you achieve what you need to do
    ·         Reward yourself with a break once you have completed a task
    ·         Apply the two minute rule: If you have available time and can do something in two minutes then get it done and out of the way as soon as it arrives
    Clear strategy and solutions for business leadership symbol with a straight path to success as a journey choosing the right strategic path for business with blank yellow traffic signs cutting through a maze of tangled roads and highways.

    To explore your creative side - try this on audible:)

    "An Unexpected Gem"
    ***I was provided a copy of this audio book for the purpose of a review ***

    With the required disclaimer out of the way, let me be brutally honest, I had not expected this little gem. In fact, I had expected my listening would be a bit rough and was fortified by it being less than 2 hours.

    The synopsis says the author wrote the book as a takeaway from her evening classes on creative writing. My mental context was ... Community Ed evening classes ...and expected a well intended but kind of amateur product. However, I am interested in adult education, and batter my own nerd head against a giant personal creativity brick wall.

    So you have an idea of my mind set... low expectations along with high interest.

    Amateur hour it was NOT.

    I don't know where the author teaches her class, but Sign Me Up! And bring the narrator. Wow. Two hours of unadulterated, straight up, right on, good learning material delivered by a close friend just sharing the material. The narrator's voice was warm, sincere without any artifact or pompous patronising, and well modulated throughout. The material was mind opening for me, with the right mix of the mechanics of writing exercises, sufficient context that using prompts now makes sense to me, and a sprinkling of the inner heart work of creativity through written material.

    This was just what I didn't dare hope for in a how to creative writing listen.

    Truly an unexpected gem and a learning and growing experience for me.

    A keeper and one I will return to many times as I deconstruct my own wall, one block at a time.

    Thank You, Ruby and Thank You, Erin.
     Money Farm
    · Frode
    5 STAR
    So Money Farm by Ruby Allure was a surprise! When I REALLY did not read things about this book I review for Audiobook Blast, I sometimes get books I don't know something about. BTW: I read 99% about the books I want to review, but this book I can't remember I did that for. Anyways: This was a nice surprise, and I think it is one of those books that is better the second time you read it. No joke! I listen to this twice before I made this! Money Farm makes you thin, and who does not like to hear a book that makes you think? It is an awesome book, that I will recommend to all that likes audiobooks, and really to people that does not!

    Helen Lloyd English accent its the topic like a glow and a hand! Her "lady like" voice is so cold, and clear I feel that the author made this book thinking that Helen Lloyd would read it out loud! That is how I feel those two fits together! The 2 times 14 hrs and 6 mins I spend with her never feels boring or uninteresting! I would love to spend it again, and I will because this book I will hear again, and again, even when it is 14 hrs and 6 mins long! That is saying something!

    I was provided this audiobook at no charge by the author, publisher and/or narrator in exchange for an unbiased review via AudiobookBlast dot com
    What did you like most about Money Farm?
    It was an eye opener.
    What did you like best about this story?
    I like the way it made you think about the way normal everyday life is here and now, and the future...
    Have you listened to any of Helen Lloyd’s other performances? How does this one compare?
    Helen Lloyd narrated this fairly long audiobook brilliantly. Although the story content was very intense and thought provoking, her lovely smooth voice was very easy to listen to and I thought it was just perfect, a fascinating book wonderfully narrated.
    Was this a book you wanted to listen to all in one sitting?
    Yes it was, although it is too long to do so.