Fembot Sally Series

Stealing diamonds and seducing secret agents is all in a day's work for a robotic femme fatale. Sally Shagwell may look like an ordinary shop girl – she works behind the perfume counter at Burlington’s department store – but in reality she is a Fembot, a deadly android assassin manufactured by a sinister international crime syndicate known only as “the Organisation.” Her function: to maim, to kill, to steal and to seduce. A diamond heist draws the attention of MI6 and secret agent Steve Blunt is dispatched to investigate. Fembot Sally must use all her robotic wiles to lure him into a deadly trap.

What are you supposed to do with a bunch of homicidal androids after the international crime syndicate that created them is brought down? They could easily be decommissioned, but why not sell them off to a Wild West theme park? They could be reprogrammed, so they wouldn’t kill anybody, and stage all kinds of mock gunfights to entertain the kids. What could possibly go wrong? Fembot Sally is about to find out...

Jack Morgan was doing just fine until Sally got on the plane. At least, that is what he thought. Jack is an American archaeologist, trying to trace a priceless South American artefact which has recently been stolen from the British Museum. Sally is a robotic secret agent, a Fembot newly assigned to MI6 and intent on preventing the relic from falling into the wrong hands. A group of sinister neo-Nazis are already making their way on foot through the Amazon Jungle, with the artefact in their possession. Not far behind them are a cabal of Russian communists, who already have possession of a second relic. Legend has it that if these two artefacts are united with a third, more powerful object, the holder will be granted unimaginable power. The Nazis have a head start, but the race to find the Lost Fortress of the Eebieki People has only just begun

A disastrous experiment sends Sally Shagwell spiralling through time, though whether into the past or the future is not immediately clear. A dinosaur attack places her firmly in the Jurassic period, but there are primitive people running around here too, in rather revealing loincloths, and if Sally knows one thing it is that humans and dinosaurs never co-existed. Perhaps she has slipped sideways in time, into an alternative reality. Or perhaps she is on a different planet altogether. Only one thing is certain: the dinosaurs are the least of her problems.

There's no such thing as vampires. This is the twentieth century. It's bad enough being tied to a stake and accused of witchcraft. The last thing Fembot Sally needs is the undead trying to prey on her as well. But dark rumours are circulating of an evil presence up at the castle. Bodies are being found drained of blood and the finger of suspicion has already fallen on the feudal lord, Count Vetrikinski. Fembot Sally travels up to the castle to investigate, but will she be able to resist the strangely hypnotic man who lives there, a darkly handsome aristocrat who insists he really isn't a vampire at all?

Isn’t it always the way? Your time machine crash lands in Eighteenth Century Europe and the one man who might be able to fix it – renowned watchmaker Gaston Lemaitre – is just about to have his head chopped off, courtesy of Madame La Guillotine. Fembot Sally heads to Paris, where the Reign of Terror is in full swing. Will she be able to rescue Citizen Lemaitre or will she end up with her own head on the block?

“A body is lying in front of the sofa. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there ten minutes ago, when I nipped out to buy a paper.” Fembot Sally is adrift in time but she is getting closer to the present day. Arriving in London in 1914, she uncovers a plot to assassinate a visiting Archduke. If the man dies, Europe will be plunged into war. The Black Rock organisation are determined to make it happen. They have already killed one man who uncovered their plans. Will Fembot Sally be next?

'Who are you?' 'The new Number Three.' 'Who is Number One?' 'You are Prisoner Sixty-Nine.' 'I am not a Prisoner. I am an autonomous android! Hang on a minute...sixty-nine? Why sixty-nine?' 'That was the year you were manufactured. 1969.' 'Yes, but...sixty-nine. People are so going to get the wrong idea.'