Book Two
I suppose you passed the old peepers over “Twits in Love” and were intrigued enough to come back for more. I must say, revealing myself in these little chronicles of Bentley's is rather like hanging one's dainty things in the public thoroughfare, but he wouldn't allow me to change a jot or a tittle. He states that it would destroy their usefulness as court documents and open me to serious litigation. I suppose a little public embarrassment is a small price to pay. This new book is about an ill-considered wager between myself and my old chums Ford and Lincoln. It required me to strip myself of every vestige of civilized attire and hurl myself into the huddled masses of the general population. If I may say so without sounding immodest, I believe that the citizenry I encountered will never be the same and neither will I.
Book Three
This is the third of Bentley's Chronicles and I must say it's a corker! My adventure begins with a simple attempt to avoid dinner at my Aunt's and winds up on a different continent with an angry mob baying for my blood. It's a bit of a travelogue, really, with some salient observations about that modern Gomorrah- New York City. All the usual suspects are here: My cousin Binky, Aunt Hypatia and Uncle Hugo, Cheeseworth and, of course, Bentley. I think I come off rather well. Some say I was heroic, although Uncle Hugo has threatened to kick me in the shins the next time he encounters me.
Book Four
If you are a follower of these Chronicles, you know that my chinless cousin Binky is a blister of the first water when it comes to romance. He has a genius for falling head over heels in love with the most inexplicable of potential partners. The usual plot requires me to move Heaven and Earth to ensure the success of his suit and then to lug them back again to get him out of the soup. This is an especially virulent example in which Bentley is forced to overlook some pretty petty behavior on my part in order to come to the rescue.
Book Five
Bentley has had to speak to me rather sternly on more than one occasion about the corrosive effects of wagering. When it comes to my cousin Binky's betting proclivities, however, Bentley might as well be King Canute ordering the tide to keep a respectful distance. In this episode, a disastrous speculation on Binky's part forced us either to flee or be hurled into debtor's prison. I decided to use our headlong flight to pursue a little project of my own and, other than a death sentence being dangled over our heads, it all turned out rather well.
Book Six
When it comes to motivating forces, most people would list hunger and thirst at the top of the list. They have not met my Aunt Hypatia. I have developed a powerful instinct that usually warns me of her approach and allows me time to be elsewhere, but large quantities of alcohol can blunt this sixth sense with horrifying consequences. Bentley has chronicled one of these instances in which his temporary absence left me helpless before my aunt's onslaught and led to a crisis which shook the very foundations of my beloved club, Twits!
Book Seven
Well, I am chuffed! Few of my acquaintance would have wagered that these chronicles would reach seven volumes. My feckless cousin, Binky, lost his shirt when Twits on the Stump hit the stands.
This is a faithful account of my misguided attempt to stand for public office. It was not a desire to do good that impelled me— it was love.
I discovered that politics is not for the faint of heart. Once in, it is deuced hard to get out. Even my brilliant mechanical valet, Bentley, found it difficult to chart a path to safety.
Enter at your own risk. Some of your most cherished beliefs about public service may be tarnished by this unvarnished account. As my opponent Captain William Bligh’s family crest states: Caveat Emptor!
Book Eight
As I read through these chronicles, (or rather, as Bentley reads these chronicles aloud to me), I begin to feel that he has cast himself as some sort of infallible genius. That is the danger of letting someone other than oneself tell the story. Even Herodotus couldn’t resist showing off a little now and then.
This latest tale of a marital spat between Pansy and Alice Freehold-Witherspoon is one in which I insisted upon seizing the role of Deus ex Machina from Bentley. I formulated one brilliant plan after another and if, in the end, Bentley was forced to do a little cleaning up of loose ends, I still insist that I would have succeeded if given just a soupçon more time.
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“Delightful! A frothy frappe of P.G. Wodehouse and steam-punk. If you’re the sort who reads blurbs before reading the book, stop it. Stop it right now. Read TWITS IN LOVE and have a good time. These days we can all use a bit more of a good time.”
—John Ostrander, American writer of comic books, including Suicide Squad, Grimjack and Star Wars: Legacy.
“The Twits Chronicles are hilarious, blessed with truly exceptional dialogue. Steampunk dystopia meets Oscar Wildean wit in these books. I found myself laughing out loud on numerous occasions--and that's not something I often do while reading. "
—Nick Sullivan, author of The Deep Series and Zombie Bigfoot.
“I haven’t enjoyed the company of such eccentric characters since A Confederacy of Dunces, and Tom Alan Robbins has managed to place them in the stylized world of Oscar Wilde. A really unique journey.”
—Kevin Conroy, Actor, The voice behind the DC Comics superhero Batman
“Tom Alan Robbins’ Twits stories are hilarious, thought provoking and mind bending. His juicy turns of phrase will stick in your ear like a catchy song."
— Michael Urie, Actor, Producer and Director
“Tom is the most talented, delicious writer. Do yourself a favor, and immerse yourself in the fabulous world of TWITS!”
— Mary Testa, 3 time Tony Award Nominee