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short story
Who was the mystery author of Christine’s nov
HER phone pinged with the e-mail while she was lying on the beach. The Greek sun blazed down from – well, being a writer, it was second nature for Amy to think about how she would describe the blue sk
IF there was one thing Glenda Williams had always been proud of, it was her organisational skills. At school, the other girls had always come to her for help when sorting out their revision timetables
It looked like a bleak Christmas for all – until Becky had a bright idea
Tara stared blankly at the Christmas tree. The fir was a last-minute purchase from the garden centre. She hadn’t decided whether to decorate it. In the armchair opposite hers, where Hugh would normall
IT was two days until Christmas and the afternoon sky was blue and crisp as Lydia’s car pulled up in front of the magnificent Bristol Hotel. Why was it called the Bristol? she wondered. It was nowhere
TESS was the mother of three grown-up sons. So she had imagined a wedding in the family, and pictured herself there, many times. She had seen herself in a floaty chiffon dress, possibly in mint green,