What the heart wants

INGLEFIELD Publishing Group, Primrose Barry speaking, good morning.” Primrose heard the coins drop at the other end of the line. Someone calling from a telephone kiosk. “Primrose?” Hearing her sister’

FRANCE, October 1918. The chocolate bar in her apron pocket had been calling to her for hours before Priscilla Pickard was able to sneak out of the tent and have a moment’s peace. She wandered several

I WAS a nightmare in the early days of my marriage, I admit it. I’d met Johnny on a skiing holiday in Courchevel, where we’d both gone with groups of chums. Johnny was the most daring of us and the be

THE train was slowing. Augustine Brown looked again at the letter in her hand. Exciting news! her sister Cordelia had written. “An unexpected guest at the hotel: Maria Mironova. Exciting news indeed.

YOU’RE not to touch a single thing in here,” the woman in the kitchen said. She had that look, the look of a servant who thinks herself a cut above the rest. She was all stain-free apron, all hands on

TESS was completely disorientated when she woke up. Her eyes flickered open and she found herself facing an unfamiliar pale green wall. The room, wherever it was, held a faint hint of the new wallpape