Familiar danger

IT had been a long, hard drive. Frances had left early, hoping to get away before the rush hour – only to discover that the rush hour started earlier still. She stopped for a break further south than

MATHEW EMERSON sat idly at his desk, wondering not for the first time how he would pay his bills if no work came along. He heard footsteps on the wooden staircase outside and saw a shadow through the

MORWENNA stood motionless, the gusting wind buffeting her. The music she could hear came in snatches, brought to her on the waves of the wind. There was a pale moon. If she got to the headland, she mi

An encounter with a handsome stranger left Georgia in a spin

THE clamour of seagulls woke Frances. For a moment, she was disorientated. Not so much in place – she knew this bedroom well – as in time. She had the odd feeling that none of the last 30-odd years ha

I n the corner of the drawing room ...