This is my second novel. It was almost finished five years ago, before my son came along, and it has taken until now to finish it, but as with all things that I make, the waiting has been as enjoyable as the doing.
The Wife Finder
Paul Kelly is that rarest of beings: a twenty-five-year-old Irish virgin. He leaves the confines of an Irish seminary three months before he is to be ordained and his first date, two months later, is organized by a grieving mother and her husband. He turns up wearing a corpse’s cast-offs and this state of affairs actually represents an upturn in his fortunes for him.
He moves to London and quickly partially loses his first girlfriend, who eventually advises his second girlfriend on how best to partially dump him. Paul is an unconventional Lothario for his is the role of the wife finder.
His search for understanding and the solution to the untenable mathematical equation, 1 + 1 = 1, leads him along an increasingly peculiar path where love, sex, bondage, confusion, no small amount of comedic slapstick, imminent psychological ruin and the ghosts of Saints Augustine and Ignatius Loyola, who is actually the fastest mouse in all Mexico, occupy and define his life with the sort of strange encounters that only the truly unbalanced or the contentedly weird could possibly conceive.