Chapter Two - Abigail Thompson

Steven Balfour is enchanted by his next door neighbour Abigail Thompson who is becoming very friendly with his Aunt Beatrice. However neither of Steven nor Beatrice know Abigail's secret.

“So how come you’re here starring at the weekly bullshit session?”

“Belinda went out to get her hair done this afternoon. She got to yacking with another lassie in the hairdresser’s, and seeing as they were both going shopping at Tesco after they had coffee together. This lassie Gwen mentioned her old man was going out to the pub tonight. She said it was the men’s story telling night and invited her round for a girls night in with some friends and a bottle of wine or two. Now I ask you, how many retired professional liars do you know called Sasha? She found out which pub and here I am. I only live twelve miles a way. Christ, man, it’s good to see you. I’d wondered if you were dead.”

“Nah. Mark Twain had the right of it when he said, ‘The report of my death was an exaggeration.’

The first thing I remember was the cold. It wasn’t an unbearable cold, it wasn’t freezing, but it was uncomfortable. Through barely cracked eyelids I could see white walls, a flat-screen television, a plethora of ‘Get Well Soon’ cards taped to the walls. My body was heavy, I could move a bit but I was entirely too stiff to even raise myself into a sitting position.

All the work I post here is in its first draft format. I do this so that you can still read what I'm writing and so you have a reason to buy my books when they are edited and published, alongside supporting me as a person of course.

***

Rairy Contrary Chapter 1 An Asshole

***

It was blacker in there than the inside of the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat

“Don’t worry!” she said with a laugh. “This was a very common test, way back when.
It was often mentioned in comedy routines of that era, so I’m sure that it doesn’t hurt at all.
In fact, from what I read, some men quite enjoyed it.”

Gina had been stripping for years when she came across the Medallion of Zulo. She loved old clunky jewelry and had spotted this at a stand at the flea market. It was just the kind of jewelry she loved.

Kris and her three vacation companions had been boyhood friends. For as long as she could remember they had taken Summer trips to a fishing camp in northern Canada with their families. As the years passed their parents became frail or passed away leaving the four to carry on the Summer tradition. This continued despite Kris' transition several years ago.

Undercover Girl - Chapter Six

Chapter 1 A happy childhood

As I have now reached the grand age of 60, and I am beginning to ease back from the hustle and bustle of work and family responsibilities, I have more and more time to look back at all the thingsI have enjoyed and experienced in my varied life.
_____________________________________________________________

I volunteered to make sure we always have a country to die for.

Chapter 18

Triss had pulled herself together after she had gotten over the shock of the pregnancy test and allowed the joy to shine through. She did decide to break the news to Pierce gently, err.. not.

She had about half an hour to get a hold of herself and then we trooped down for dinner. Her face seemed to go between shock and joy and back again. If Pierce had been paying attention he would have known something was up, but he came in, apologising for not being earlier, and sat down. Maria brought out the food. Bee could see something was up but didn't know what to ask.

Warriors way chapter 5...Showtime!

So what will happen now, the story goes on!

New story in the growing Hekawi universe!
Read the others in this new universe

Meagan's Tail

Nuuan's
“Necessity is the Mother of Invention” and “Déjà vu”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 17
We spent two more days in our little place in the woods, which sat on a very quiet road in a corner of Kent that somehow seemed to escape the hurry and bustle of the outside world despite sitting so close to three main roads. Years later, I would read of the man who lived secretly in his tent, hidden away in the bushes of the central reservation of the dual carriageway leading past Southampton’s railway station, his life passing in parallel with that of the commuters streaming past each day.