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RUNNER-UP
best for FICTION
BY STEPHANIE PAYNE
FROM its oak panelling to the worn leather chairs, the room was oddly old fashioned. Rather like Ralph Draper himself, Dolly observed, glancing around the private detective’s office. She hadn’t expect
Look at this, Kerry!” I called over my assistant in the café I owned and ran. “What is it?” she asked. I handed her the letter. “A reviewer from the glossy local lifestyle magazine, Aspire, is arrivin
I’D just started work as a nurse and it was my first time living on my own. I managed to rent a tiny flat in Finchley. It came with a window box, a stray cat that hung around mewing for food, plus a n
I LIFT my head to the weak sun and give thanks for having survived another winter. It’s good to see the lane is passable, even if there are ruts and puddles. However, I can still see the bones of icy,
ROSALIE’S heart was pounding. Tall and formidable in dark coat and breeches, Thomas Charrel stood in the chapel doorway, his eyes on her for what seemed an age. His expression was grim, his gaze as co
MADELEINE could not think when she last went to the theatre. Her father didn’t enjoy plays much, and Madeleine tended to go along with what he liked. They were close; the Gilbert family was just the t