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Hayley’s aunt had left her such mysterious clues . . .
BY AMANDA QUINN
IT was no fun being dead – particularly when you had a cramp in your leg. Gemma raised her head from the dusty floor, looking for Tarquin. “Do I really have to stay here until the end of the act?” she
BONNIE, darling, it’s been so nice to see you again and reminisce about schooldays. “How is Mr Teddy, by the way? I almost forgot to ask. “But now I must own up.” The invitation to meet Amelia Courtne
Can you work out whodunnit when a woman is killed at the Little Snodbury Crime Festival?
Y ou’ve done what?’ Mel threw her bag ...
I PEGGED Dad’s Seventies’ psychedelic floral shirt on the section of the clothesline designated for “undies”. It couldn’t be seen by the neighbours. I dreamt of the day my parents would give me their
CATHY grunted as she struggled to open a jar of marmalade. Standing tall and athletic, amidst boxes piled high on the scarred wooden table in her new farmhouse kitchen, she inhaled the scents of woods