CHAPTER 14
I did the honours with the fresh bottle, and when Ox had popped my cork, I returned to our table, where Hira was interrogating the others.

“So it is the tall man who is the baker?”

Alicia was taking question point.

“Yes, as in he is the one with the bakery, over to Cathays. Nana Deb’s his wife, and she runs a, well, a girls’ home. That’s where I live”

The Ghost of Tomorrow

Chapter 2: Home Truths

That night I had a vivid dream. You know, one of those dreams where
you think you’re awake until you wake up? In this dream, I woke up, and
grabbed the clothes that Mum had laid out in my bedroom to get dressed
into and went into the bathroom. Just a normal school morning. Only when
I took off my pyjamas, two things finally dawned on me. Okay, well
three. No four.

The trio left Damien’s father and friends behind. After receiving some more directions from Stephanie, the Taxi took them to a quiet mews not far from Red Lion Square in Central London. They waited in the street while the cab did a ‘U-turn’ and disappeared into the traffic in search of a new fare.

CHAPTER 2
“Oh, good morning! We were…”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Are you okay? Way you left, some of us were wondering if you’d be back”

“Well, I am. Or at least, most of me”

The Ghost of Tomorrow

Chapter 1: Aftermath

It’s the first Monday in February 1983, and I’m looking in the mirror
of the dresser that Dad dug up at a garage sale last year, after Mariska
kept complaining about me hogging hers. I’m in my light green checked
summer uniform dress, and I’m fiddling with my hair. Finding a style
that keeps my curls under control, out of my face, and won’t
make me look like a weirdo has had me fretting all week. Never mind that

A continuation of ‘Vanishing Point’

CHAPTER 1
It had been a long drive back to Booker, through the familiar stop-go around the M25 until we lost most of the traffic on the M40. Mary had looked at me as I sat next to her, the sundress riding up over my thighs, and tutted.

“Put my coat over those legs. It’ll take a while for the heater to warm us up. And… I need to think, but I need to concentrate. Can’t do both”

Torn from his own world and stuffed into the body of a villainess, facing the end of a doomed route he himself wrote, "Amelia" must navigate a world she really should know - too bad she was never great at worldbuilding.

Stuck in a world she (maybe) created, Amelia quickly finds that reality has filled in the details she failed to describe. The characters who were so flat when she wrote them now have nuance, and motives. The kingdom she wrote into existence is experiencing internal strife she never even thought about. And let's not even get into the complexities of the magic system, or the demon that forced her into this situation to begin with...

Oh, and then there's the fact that she's about to be arrested and executed... but surely she can come up with a way to write herself out of that, right?

...Right?

It was a twisty, busy road, lined with what looked like mango trees, piles of old fruit under each one. We’d left Ish and LC back in Cairns, with instructions to use the day as they felt best. The conversation with our son had warmed my heart.

“This is a present for your Mum, son. I think LC would get bored, and it’ll be a full day. You sure you don’t mind looking after her?”

“She’s my sister, Dad. What else would I do?”

I found a jacket that remembers a missing girl, and it’s rewriting my body one day at a time. Now I have to solve that girl's murder before the coat finishes its work and I disappear into someone else’s life.

The house smells like garlic and rosemary when I push through the door, gym bag on my shoulder, the t-shirt still damp at the collar from the shower. No bra underneath - the sports bra is in the bag with the soaked sweats, and I didn't put it back on, just pulled the t-shirt over bare skin. The cold outside made itself known on the walk from the cab.

The heat was the first thing.

Mark Lansing never wanted to stand out. He was perfectly happy disappearing into a football huddle with the rest of the team until one play made him the talk of the town. Thrust into a spotlight he never wanted, every choice can reshape his future, and every decision could transform him in ways he never believed possible. Mark’s destiny will be determined on the field … assuming he can figure out how to dress the part.

CHAPTER 56
The flight back was a quiet one for my family, partly through the effects of too much booze, but mostly in reaction to the revelations about Susie’s adopted father. I knew there was more to be told, but all I could think of was the contrast on that ‘Sharp End’ programme between that infantryman and Gerald himself.

The former had spoken with true venom, while Gerald had almost looked ashamed. That, I believe, was the message I took from it all: how the hell had he kept his sanity?