Chapter Eleven Commissariat, Marseilles The interview room was as bare as Hill expected: a metal table, two chairs on either side, walls painted a weary grey that did little to disguise their age. A single camera sat in the corner, its red light blinking like a half-hearted heartbeat. Luc Moreau lounged in his chair, hands folded neatly on the table. He wore a light linen suit, cream against his tanned skin, the sort of c...

The Eternal Circle: Part Two Chapter Six: Recollections Claire sat at the edge of the narrow cot, staring at the cracked plaster of the safehouse wall. The room smelled faintly of mildew and cigarette smoke, the kind of place the police kept for emergencies, never meant to be comfortable. Outside, somewhere in the alley, a cat screeched and scrabbled against a dustbin. She flinched, her nerves still raw, though she told h...

The Eternal Circle: Part One Chapter One – The Letter Rain fell in thin, persistent sheets, tapping the windowpanes of Claire Hammond’s third-floor flat like a nervous visitor unwilling to be ignored. She sat at her small oak table, untouched tea cooling in a chipped mug, staring at the envelope that had been slipped under her door an hour ago. It was cream-coloured, thick, and without a stamp. No address, no return infor...

The sky was the colour of pewter, the clouds dragging their weight low over the horizon as the last of the daylight bled away. Hannah tugged her denim jacket tighter around her and glanced sideways at her friend. “Come on, Lila,” she said, forcing a light tone, “it’s just a shortcut. Five minutes tops.” Lila bit her lip. “Through the cemetery, Hannah. At dusk. You know I hate that place.” “You hate everything after sunset...

The Woods Of Galicia The moon hung low over the wilds of Galicia, its silver light spilling over ancient trees draped in moss. The forest was alive with the chorus of nocturnal sounds, a symphony of rustling leaves and distant howls that could send shivers down one’s spine. It was a place steeped in mystery, where the whispers of the past brushed against the living, and stories of old echoed through the night air. Carlos...

I: What Comes In The Night The sun began its descent beyond the horizon, painting the Caribbean sky in hues of orange and crimson. Laughter echoed across the tranquil waters as five friends—Evelyn, Marco, Tessa, Brad, and last-minute addition Zoe—sank into the comfort of their luxurious yacht, The Sea Whisper. They had spent a week sailing toward hidden coves and sun-kissed beaches, but as night loomed, an unsettling feel...

Every day is a great opportunity to do that which is right and that which is good, to live our lives according to the precepts of kindness and decency however most of us fail in some way or other to live up to these ideals. Why is this? what is it in us that makes us not realise our full potential to be the people that we are meant to be. For some of us it is selfishness, for others it is a proud and boastful nature and t...

The rain had slicked the streets into sheets of glass, reflecting the sickly glow of sodium lamps as DCI George Hill pushed open the door of the incident room. The air smelled of stale coffee and wet wool coats. On the wall, fifteen faces stared back from photographs—smiling women, all of them snuffed out by the same brutal hand. Beside him, DS Melanie Sommers shuffled a stack of crime scene reports. She looked younger th...

Chapter Six – The Oak at Midnight The moon hung sharp and cold above Norfolkshire, silvering the frost-bound fields, when Jasper roused his brother from uneasy slumber. Jeremy started from his bed, heart racing, for he had dreamt again of Willie’s pale face, lips moving soundless words. Yet Jasper’s hand was upon his shoulder, urgent and hot with fevered purpose. “Up, Jeremy,” he whispered harshly. “Dress thee and come. W...

The Fitzroys: Part One Chapter One – Shadows of Norfolkshire It was in the waning years of that restless century, when revolutions smouldered abroad yet the ancient privileges of rank held firm in England, that the Fitzroy estate stood in grim isolation amidst the flat expanses of Norfolkshire. A house of venerable stone, weather-beaten by many a winter gale, it looked out upon fields where peasants bent their backs in ce...

Chapter I: The Pharaoh’s Blood London’s fog-wreathed streets lay quietly under the first hush of midnight, yet in grand Mayfair drawing rooms, candles burned bright. Beneath crystal chandeliers and atop Persian carpets, figures draped in velvet and silk murmured over claret. They were the city’s finest: dukes, industrial magnates, famous artists—each unknowingly enmeshed in a centuries-old web. At the center of the larges...

Chapter 1: “A New Beginning” Alice Greaves rang the bell at Flat 0A and stepped inside. The spacious ground‐floor apartment had been newly refitted: pale oak flooring, brushed-steel fixtures, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a manicured courtyard. Agents had boasted “heritage chic,” though the block itself was barely ten years old. After her divorce, the quiet of this upmarket development in southern England promi...

I am the wind’s first whisper at dawn, Talons pressed to crag and cloud, Wings unfolding like ancient prayer. I ride the sun on thermal currents, Eyes aflame with amber light— Each shadow a secret, each valley a promise. I taste the chill of mountain air, Feel the heartbeat of the earth below, As rivers wind through canyon lungs. I watch the field mice tremble in their tunnels, Snared by my silent shadow, Life and death i...

It is a fact of life these days that everyone seems to be in a rush, speeding from here to there and then back again. People seem to have no time to do the things that are important any more, rush, rush and rush some more. I find it as no surprise that the majority of the population are stressed out and tend to be more aggressive to others, what can you expect of people who lead such hectic lives and deny their bodies the...

The moon rode high above the inlet when Jonah first stumbled into its hush. He’d come to escape his restless mind—a late shift in the grocery store, too many nights spent counting cans instead of dreams. The sea wind curled through the dunes, salt and pinewood in one breath. Silvery light spilled over the tide pools, stirring reflections in the rock’s shallow hollows. Jonah paused at the water’s edge. A soft murmur rose f...