For the first time in a very long time, I ditched humourous veil I that tend to hide behind and I allowed my imagination wander around in the murky world of crime.
Beryl is due to retire at the end of next term and has been working on a novel. From the rather steamy pieces she has been reading to us, she could well be Didsbrook's answer to E. L. James.
We had spent other significant birthdays together, but I just didn't want to celebrate being a bloody quadragenarian.
The editing process is a nightmare that would make even Stephen King's spine-chilling characters squirm.
He got up, went over to the door and locked it. He wanted peace. No interruptions from the outside world when he read the letter from his one true love.
'Luke ... how long is it since I last saw you?' He shook his head slowly from side to side, squeezing his eyes together as if trying to solve a cryptic crossword clue. He had no idea, so she continued. 'OK ... let me remind you. Do you remember the morning you went to work and never came back?' He shrugged apologetically. 'I was about to file a missing person's report when you emailed me from Sydney to tell me you had been offered a gig out there for 12 months.' He looked at her, sucking in air through his teeth. One of his irritating habits and something he always did when he knew he was in the wrong. 'Ahh, so you do remember? And that 12 months turned into 8 years ... not that I'm counting ... well, certainly not anymore.'
Sam broke the silence and eye contact was reestablished. The words said one thing, but the eyes were saying something else. There was no glimmer of reciprocated emotion, just an apologetic sadness. Nicky always had that nagging doubt, an inner fear that their relationship, the one she had thrown her heart and soul into was always destined to be a one-sided, temporary arrangement. A fling, a game, an experiment. She had been right.
Outtakes from current work-in-progress 2015-2017 Half a bottle of champagne and a sea food platter 'I'm glad you rang, I’ve got a bit of news for you. How was your flight?' 'News? Good I hope. The flight was bloody brilliant actually. I met Luke Holloway in the departure lounge at Gatwick. He was also headed... Continue Reading →