Ghosts of People Past begins with a series of mysterious events that happen to fifty-year-old Nora one snowy night in a remote mountain village of Western Macedonia, Greece. Upon returning home from a cousin’s funeral, she finds an email on her computer from the Algerian archaeology student she once nearly loved to death. This triggers off a surge of memories and reopens unresolved issues with her past, the closure she never got and the guilty secrets she has harbored. With the help of a bottle of whisky and her resurrected cat, she begins to dust off her memories and starts to write her life story determined to finish it in one night before it is too late. From Boston to Thessaloniki and from Rome to Algeria, she narrates the events of her life that stigmatized her forever: her expulsion from her home in Boston by her parents, the cultural shock of moving to Greece, her doomed love for a Muslim student in the hard and gloomy years of the Greek dictatorship in Greece. Her communication with her ex-boyfriend via MSN unravels on a second plane of narration and leads to dramatic revelations which force Nora to face a past she has spent years struggling to forget. The dimensions of time mesh in a strange game of alternating reality and fantasy right up to the books cathartic end.
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Amie was just an average girl, living in her home town close to friends and family. She was happily married and she had her future all planned out. They would have two adorable children, while she made award winning programmes for television.
Until the day her husband announced he was being sent to live and work in an African country she’d never heard of.
When she came to the notice of a Colonel in the Government, it made life very complicated, and from there things started to escalate from bad to worse.
If Amie could have seen that one day she would be totally lost, fighting for her life, and enduring untold horrors, she would never have stepped foot on that plane.
Jaded war photographer Emma Saywell wanders through the dappled beauty of London's Kew Gardens, 'Broken', her hack-about old Nikon, hanging around her neck.
Her second book, 'THE EYES OF WAR', is selling well. Yet after a decade looking into hollow eyes, capturing men at their worst, her personal focus is a micron out.
She watches a woman with two young girls. One, the younger, trips, falls, screws up her tiny face, crys silently. Then she sees him. 'Broken' glides to her eye in one instinctive movement.
Click, click. Nailed him. Click.
Why is he smiling so inanely? Why smile like that, selling ice-cream to tourists from a cafe with a few tables? And what's with all the glancing at the sky?'
She looks up herself, half expecting to see an American drone stooging around. Nothing but fat dreamliners heading for Heathrow. She's drawn to the ice-cream seller, has to find out...
We're leaving this success pit. I've got this vision: three doors. Stay with me. One for each of us. The doors only open in. Stay with me.
Yeah, it's hard losing your twin under the wheels of London. But this ain't about Carys. I'm doing this because I want to. Rhi wants this for Rhi.
They've chained one of those white ghost bikes to the railings at the roundabout where she was knocked off her bike and killed .. white plaque with her name, few wilting flowers.
No more intern-ships, Jamie. Stay with me! No more tick-box appraisals, Matt. No more faking it. I've got this vision for us. It's a Rhianon thing.
You said yourself, Matt. All about arse-licking. One part talent, nine parts tongue. Where's that MSc got you, Jamie? Unpaid intern, trading on your looks.
I got to your dad, Jamie. He's backed us. We're the proud owners of Hampshire's finest... "
A compilation of short stories for you to enjoy whenever you have a few minutes to spare. Whether you are waiting for public transport, waiting for tea to cook, just settled your children to sleep or soaking in the bathtub, these are for you. (Written in UK English)
Never Say Never!
Roses for my Love
A Mining Tragedy
The Hand of Fate
To Dye For!
A Christmas Spirit