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short story
Who was the mystery author of Christine’s nov
MARIE peered out of the front room window, wondering if people would be on time. And not only that – what if nobody showed? She let the net curtain drop, listening to the kettle whistling in the kitch
G av drove home, glancing up at the ...
ISOBEL had known that living in her old childhood home would bring back memories. However, she never expected so many, or for them to be so vivid. Sometimes, in the last minutes before waking, she ima
COME on, Jo. You haven’t been out with us for ages,” Gemma chided me, when she phoned. “It’s not good for you sitting about in that poky flat all on your own.” “I’m not on my own. I have Simon,” I cor
THE buildings on either side of the street seemed to bend in upon Meg Talbot. Their upper windows were looming as she picked her way through the slime and detritus. She could hardly see the September
BONFIRE Night. Roslyn inhaled deeply, relishing the scents drifting on the air. No other time smelled quite like it. Woodsmoke predominated, but sweetened by the competing aromas of toffee apples and