Listen Inside - Daily book previews from Readers in the Know by Simon Denman

Synopsis

These are linked stories, in the spirit of Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine. They are about a sixteen-year old girl, Kedzie Greer, who was raised in a utopian community and leaves home to make her way in a dystopian society. The year is 2199; the place, the Reunited States.

In these stories, technology coexists with a haunted world. There are witches and robots, ghosts and e-beasts, a mystical lake and a human warehouse.

Excerpt

In the end, it was the town gates that got to Kedzie. The gates were symbols of the caged feeling that was driving her crazy, and the fact that they had stood for hundreds of years was particularly maddening. Except for the summer tourists who came to gawk at what they called its quaintness, no one new ever showed up in Stillwater. Everybody who was already there knew everybody else who was already there. She could not walk past those heavy ironwork gates without wanting to shake them and cry out.

The vigilbots that manned the gates were polite and amiable. They said hello and wished you Godspeed. Although in 2199 vigilbots could be legally programmed to kill, the worst the Stillwater bots could do was surround people and deliver mild, persistent electric shocks. This, too, exasperated Kedzie. Why bother having a defense if it did not actually defend you?

Kedzie had ridden her bicycle over every street in Stillwater. She had been inside most of the houses. She had been to every community celebration: Christmas, Yule, Thanksgiving, Halloween, the first day of spring, summer, fall, winter. She had been to every picnic, done every volunteer job. Every step she took, she had taken before.

All the shopkeepers said, “Hi, Kedzie,” when she entered. Kind Mr. Glimm always gave her a piece of candy, not caring to notice that she was an adult of sixteen. In the Reunited States in 2199, sixteen-year-olds were economically accountable for themselves. They had no legal right to be supported by anyone. Kedzie was so well-loved that it never occurred to her that one of the consequences of turning sixteen was that her parents could force her out. All she knew was that if she wanted to leave, her parents had no legal power to make her stay.

Kedzie’s parents, Julia Margoles and Adele Freyer, practiced white witchcraft. As faithfully as any believers of old, they celebrated the Sabbats, they prayed to the God and Goddess. They did no harm to any creature on Earth. Kedzie had heard them say many times that they lived in harmony with “the great round”—the turning earth and the tenets of their faith.

It was fortunate that they never pressured Kedzie to adopt their beliefs, because she did not believe in anything they said or did. The idea of devoting her life to benign witchcraft—home, community, nature, and smiling—made her itch and toss restlessly in bed. She did not see what was so great about those elaborate stories her parents called spells:

Now walk into the forest. In a clearing, you will see a golden well with a bucket suspended from a rope. Lower the bucket into the well. All her parents’ incantations sounded like that.

“We live in a false bubble,” she said to her parents. “Stillwater is unreal.”

Her mother Julia said that Stillwater was the real world. “Outside is the place of unreality,” she said.

“It is not easy to live as we do,” her mother Adele said. “We have to choose to do right every day of our lives, and it can be very, very tiresome. We do not alway

Synopsis

Lady Chrissie Wellsby and her two country friends research dozens of rogues before selecting the notorious Viscount Hawkesbury, owner of London’s most exclusive and expensive brothel, to educate them in erotic seduction. The ladies abandon respectability and coerce Justin Tremayne into letting them visit The Pleasure House and to teaching them the sensual tricks mistresses and prostitutes use to entertain men. 

Though Justin believes three naive ladies will see the debauched romps in his themed rooms, cover their eyes and ears, and run back to their sheltered lives, he underestimates the desperation of abandoned women who imagine a wider knowledge of sex will keep the men in their lives at home, in their own beds. But despite watching several of their friends, men and women, perform raunchy acts at his brothel, the ladies insist on participating in the last of Justin’s infamous Sultan’s galas, held in numerous silk tents and outdoor bathing areas on his estate. 

Justin concedes to Chrissie’s demands only to gain information about his long-lost mother and sisters, but the world-weary viscount falls head over heels in love with his emotionally bruised pupil. He yearns for a wife, children, and an uncomplicated wife, but can he convinced Chrissie to take a chance and marry again? Because Justin never wants to leave her bed.

Excerpt

”Remove that hideous gown!” Justin Tremayne, known in amusement- 

seeking society as Handsome Hawkesbury or the Virile Viscount, struggled to 

hide his rising frustration. “I need to examine your body. All of it.” 

                                      *** 

He smiled a little. “I’d still like to see a little more of you. I can’t 

even see the color of your hair.” He pointed toward her groin. “Top or 

bottom. Here, let me unbutton you,” he said, his fingers set to work on 

her top button, brushing the soft skin of her nape as he did so.

 She flinched and held tight to the gaping neck of her dress with 

clenched fists. “Please. Listen to me. I’m not seeking employment.”

 “Ah, then you’re simply a bitch in heat like all the others. 

Wanting a lusty tale to recount to your upper- class friends over tea and 

cake. Perhaps compare notes on Viscount Hawkesbury’s infamous 

prowess.”

 Her quick series of breaths hissed and sizzled like water spitting 

on hot coals. He heard the girls tut-tutting nearby, but taunting, teasing, 

and arousing the lioness who’d dared brave his den so late at night had 

proved too delicious a temptation to resist. Only one more jest at her 

expense and then he’d summon the butler and a couple of strong 

footmen, and bid her farewell.

 He turned, slowly and deliberately, and spoke to his two friends. 

Synopsis

When people call her a control freak, Peri Milano takes it as a compliment. As the preferred go-to special assistant to Philadelphia’s rich and almost famous, having everything under control is part of her job description.  With the organizational skills of a data processing program, the discretion of the CIA, and the creativity of an Ikea research and design engineer, Peri fulfills whatever whim her customers fancy and finds methods for their madness.  

Never has she received a request she couldn’t complete nor a problem she couldn’t solve.  So when she finds the dead body of one of her clients and lands smack in the middle of a murder investigation, Peri simply adds a few more items on her to-do list. It's nothing she can’t handle.  

But when another client receives a blackmail letter, her son’s type-1 diabetes nearly kills him and her mother ends up in jail (again), Peri starts to doubt whether anything is truly ever under control. She can’t help but wonder just who will be the next to Show Up Dead.

Excerpt

“Just stop saying things like that for a little while,” I said to my mother. “It’s too much for me to handle right now.” I sighed and turned to Mr. Wooley’s daughter. “Jacqueline, why did you kill your father?”

“I DIDN’T KILL HIM!” She jumped up, knocking over her chair. “Why do people keep saying that?” She clenched her hands in front of her mouth. “Peri! You’re supposed to be taking care of me for the rest of my life! You can’t just accuse me of murder whenever you want!”

“I’m not supposed to be taking care of you. I’m only responsible . . . Ugh! That doesn’t matter right now.” I dumped my tea in the sink and hit the coffeepot’s on button. “Let’s get back to square one. Jacqueline, why were you poisoning your father?” I picked up her chair.

Jacqueline pulled herself together and returned to her chair.

“Do you know what it’s like knowing your father is going to become your mother?” she asked.

“You know, Archie and I experimented with that once,” Ma said.

“Who is Archie?” Jacqueline asked, somehow making herself heard over me shrieking. “Jesus! Ma!”

“Archie is my husband,” Ma continued. “We started our parenting adventure by deliberately reversing our roles so Peri wouldn’t grow up with the stereotypes of what a woman is supposed to be like, or a man. We wanted her to decide that for herself. It was very amusing. Except, we kept forgetting to follow through. Eventually, we got confused as to who was supposed to do what, so we decided to just let Peri teach us how to be parents.”

“That explains so much,” Mel cheered me with her teacup. I nodded in return. If I had ever believed tears were useful, I may have allowed myself to cry.

“Well, Ma, that’s not quite what Jacqueline means.” I sniffed. The coffee aroma calmed me. “What she’s talking about is that Mr. Wooley was planning on becoming, medically and completely, Miss Wooley.”

“I see.” Ma sipped her tea. She poked a Sfogliatelle pastry as if she worried it might attack. “Arch and I never tried that, though I can see how Mr. Wooley would be so inclined. The man had a gift for color coordination.”

Synopsis

Kick back and enjoy this mini-anthology of spine-tingling short stories from Diane Wing, author of "Thorne Manor And Other Bizarre Tales" and "Coven: Scrolls of the Four Winds."  

Another Walk in the Park: A familiar walking path leads to a disturbing encounter in an unexpected realm.  

Dark Hollow Road: A grieving sister searches for her brother on a road notorious for missing persons.  

The Restaurant: An adventurous foodie couple are consumed by a life-changing meal when they explore the peculiar cuisine at a mysterious new restaurant.  

Wrong Directions: Jealousy prompts a technological genius to conjure a diabolical solution to deal with unfaithful husbands.

Excerpt

It was just another walk in the park. A gentle summer breeze blowing, rustling the dense leaves on the trees. The occasional chipmunk suddenly bounding across my path and disappearing on the other side. Butterflies flew alongside, guiding my journey. I followed the same path I had countless times before, knowing what was around the next bend, changes only made by the seasons. The big old oak ahead was mostly dead; yet refused to go quietly. Its twisted trunk, bulging bark, and thick, broken branches gave it an angry, evil countenance and dual personality when viewed from the other side, where its skin was smoother and new branches sprouted from the top of the broken trunk. There was a large opening at the base that I could fit inside easily to experience the spooky tree from its core, yet never did. It seemed an invasion to enter through this spirit portal. Out of respect, I looked in, but maintained our separateness. Teenaged black walnut trees danced in a circle to mark the boundary of a large grove, a sacred space that seemed to have an energy all its own. The grass grew thick, awaiting park employee intervention to trim it back. Just to the left, a four-foot high, rough-hewn headstone proclaimed that this was the site of the Winterton Mansion, circa 1785. There seemed to be an energetic residue left from the mansion, accompanied by a sense of foreboding. I had walked up to the stone many times, yet felt an invisible barrier that prevented me from moving past it and into the walnut grove. A friend of mine was with me on one of my woodland walks and as we stood before the headstone, she commented that the house does not like attention drawn to it and prefers that visitors disregard its presence. The story goes that the house burned down and that the area is haunted. Some park visitors have smelled smoke and heard screams. My visits had, up to this point, been uneventful, having established good rapport with the trees and nature spirits in the area. Yet there was always an underlying sense of an alternate dimension, of layers waiting to be discovered, and of the distant past wanting to be remembered, waiting to be explored. While usually approaching with great respect and reverence, this time felt different. It was as though the barrier was thinner, and the area was no longer off-limits. My feet were on the dirt path, but the grove beckoned me to visit, to experience, to cross into another time, another place. All six senses were on alert, prickling from past encounters with the area, teetering between honoring its solitude and an intense curiosity drawing me closer. Something tickled my ankle, and I realized I was standing in the overgrown grass halfway between the path and the headstone. The headstone glared at me in silence, daring me to come forward, to break the seal and the unspoken agreement we had to remain apart. I For Review Only - Do not distribute 2 Diane Wing telepathically assured this sacred space that I meant no harm and asked if I was being invited in.

Synopsis

Based on a true story. Ted and Florrie were childhood sweethearts who in 1936, married in the church on top of the Hill where they both lived, unaware of the dark rumblings from Europe, which in a few short years were to change their lives forever. 

Ted is called up and joins an elite Airborne glider force tasked with capturing and holding the Pegasus and Horsa bridges in enemy-held Normandy vital to the success of the D-Day invasion. Their mission is a complete success but this is only the awful beginning. From there he continues to fight at the bloody Rhine Crossing, across Germany until finally meeting the Russian Army on the Baltic coast. Casualties are terrible. 

In 1946 Ted is demobbed and returns to Florrie and his young family unscathed. But only physically so, for Florrie doesn't recognise the man who returns and soon the experience of constant death and the horror of battle takes its destructive toll on him. Both he and Florrie struggle to understand and come to terms with the problem in the buttoned-up society of the 1940s and 50s. To make matters worse, Florrie's mental health begins to deteriorate. How will Ted deal with this? With the same heightened sense of duty and loyalty that won the war, or will that same stubbornness turn on him and destroy him? 

The story also looks at the lives of ordinary people in post-war England, at their values and culture, from the greyness of the fifties with the horse-drawn baker's van and the black footprints of the coal-man, to a country slowly emerging from the devastation of war and is a must read for fans of historical fiction. 

Pegasus to Paradise is an ode to both the extraordinary efforts of ordinary men and women during the Second World War, and a moving portrait of duty, survival, humour and the power of love in post-war Britain.

Excerpt

Ted clicked through the metal gate and opened the front door. He would be glad to put all this shopping down. His forehead felt clammy and he rubbed a dull ache away in his chest.

‘Florrie. You there?’

There was no answer.

Probably asleep. Better have a look.

The landing was quite dim and he didn’t see it at first. The blood red smear on the white bathroom door and the mark of two fingers.

‘What the hell?’

The words gasped.

Now he could see the dark drops on the landing carpet leading to the bedroom. His heart froze and he leant for a second against the wall. There was no sound.

‘Oh no Florrie.’

He pushed the bedroom door open, slowly, and stepped inside.

Florrie was lying on her back on the bed, both arms outstretched. Her hands and arms and clothes were soaked red. A smudge of colour around her nose. A streak slashed across her throat. Her eyes closed. Behind her, the wall was smeared and splattered crimson.

Ted recoiled as the violent scene screamed into his senses.

‘Jesus Christ.’ And hot tears flooded into his eyes. Then he realised. Something about the smell.

This wasn’t blood. He knew what blood smelled like, lots of blood. And the colour...? He moved beside Florrie and placed his fingers on her neck. The pulse beat strongly. Beside her on the bed lay

Synopsis

A humorous, animal detective story for 7-12 year-olds.

When Mr Woodland Mouse mysteriously disappears, Constable Mole is quick to enlist the help of Leon Chameleon, Private Investigator, whose expertise enabled the Pigeon Valley Police to solve the case of the missing canary eggs.

After organising a search, Leon realises that there is only one creature in the valley who can spring the captured mouse from his prison. But just when he thinks Mr Woodland Mouse is safely on his way home, the plan goes horribly wrong..."

All the animal details of food, habits, and lifestyle are true to nature (apart from Constable Mole’s sunglasses!) and the animals solve the crimes using their own natural abilities.  Children will absorb much knowledge of the small creatures of Africa without being aware of it. 

A section of interesting facts has been added to this second detective story in the Leon Chameleon PI series. It provides valuable and little-known information on chameleons, moles and other creatures featured in the story.

Excerpt

“LEON, Leon!” cried Constable Mole, clambering out of his burrow and hurriedly dusting the soil from his fur. “Are you there, Leon?”

Mole’s urgent, squeaking voice startled Leon Chameleon, who was dreaming, with half-closed eyes, of all the detective cases he would one day solve. The branch he was perched on swayed slightly in the gentle breeze, and the warm sun filtering through the leaves made him feel quite sleepy.

“Leon!” demanded Mole.

“Drat,” thought Leon, as Constable Mole’s frantic voice became even more urgent. “What can the little chap want in such a hurry?”

Leon’s eyes at the end of their cone-shaped turrets  swivelled down in search of Constable Mole, whose reddish-brown body was almost invisible against the brown of the earth. At last he spotted Mole’s anxious figure.

“Leon!” squeaked Mole in annoyance, stamping his feet.

“All right, all right. I’m coming,” said Leon, sighing at Mole’s impatience. Slowly Leon unfurled his tail from the twig, around which he’d secured it for extra support in case he fell asleep and toppled off. He began his ponderous climb down through the branches of the Pigeonwood Tree, which was his headquarters where he waited for clients who needed his help. On reaching the lowest branch he yelled a warning: “Watch out, Mole!”

“Oh no,” muttered Mole when he heard Leon drawing in great puffs of air. He knew from past experience that it wasn’t safe under trees when Leon was about to launch himself from a branch. He scurried down his hole out of harm’s way.

Leon puffed and puffed, sucking air into the tiny airways of his lungs which were spread throughout his body. When he’d blown himself up like a miniature balloon, he bellowed, “Look out below,” and with a mighty push of his strong back legs leapt from the branch. But even when he was filled with air, Leon’s descent was still quite rapid. Mole remained in the safety of his hole until he felt the ground shudder as Leon’s plummeting body landed with a plop amongst the dried leaves.

Mole was always amazed that Leon never hurt himself when he jumped from trees. But Leon’s trick of blowing up his body cushioned his fall and he simply bounced when he hit the ground.

“Now, what’s the problem?” L

Synopsis

Richmond, California. World War II. A cross burning takes innocent lives and unsettles the town. After Japan attacks Pearl Harbor, American Italians start to disappear, a rapist promises to revisit his victims, and someone viciously beats shipyard workers – to death. His failure to solve these seemingly unrelated events haunts homicide detective Oliver Wright, even after he reenlists in the Marines and finds himself fighting in the Pacific. 

Oliver returns to Richmond near the end of the war, injured and afraid his career is over. But when an Italian Prisoner of War is murdered the night the Port Chicago Mutiny verdicts are announced, and black soldiers are suspected of the crime, the Army asks Oliver to find out the truth. He joins forces with an Italian POW captain and with a black MP embittered by a segregated military. During their investigation, these unlikely allies expose layers of deceit and violence that stretch back to World War I, and uncover a common thread that connects the earlier crimes. 

In the Shadow of Lies reveals the darkness and turmoil of the Bay Area during World War II, while celebrating the spirit of the everyday people who made up the home front. Its intriguing characters will resonate with the reader long after its deftly intertwined mysteries are solved.

Excerpt

San Francisco Bay, 1944

“Stop, or I’ll shoot!”

A soldier raised his pistol and searched the water for Luca.

“Stop!”

The Italian POW broke the surface ten feet away from the ferry. The soldier fired at the bobbing head, then aimed again. A cane struck his arm.

“Stand down, soldier!” Lt. Oliver Wright stumbled against him, then righted himself with the cane. “Can’t you see what’s happening?”

“Oh, I get it.” The guard smiled and lowered the gun. “Why waste the ammo? That dago won’t last ten minutes out there.”

Something flew past their heads once, then again. An MP threw a third life preserver into the bay. Harley trembled at the rail and barked sharply at Oliver. The dog flew into the air and over the side as soon as Oliver’s hand began the signal to go.

The MP saluted. “My people don’t much take after Johnny Weissmuller, but we do have a talent for throwing. Corporal Nate Hermit, sir.”

Their hasty introductions were subsumed in shouts and cries.

“Man overboard! Come about, come about!”

The ferry shuddered as the engines slammed into reverse. Above the vessel’s groans, a woman shrieked. Soldiers and POWs rushed to her side.

Another group of POWs spotted a motorized skiff lashed to the rail and raced toward it. Nate took off after them, reaching the boat as it swung out and back against the side of the ferry, the POWs straining to lower it and the weight of two of their compatriots. Oliver watched Nate launch himself into the skiff, knock down one of the POWs, and almost wrench the lines free.

“Sorry. If I don’t come with you, that cracker with the pistol will sink you before you can help that little girl—and your captain.” He righted himself and looked toward the water. Oliver heard him mutter, “Then again, he would just as happily sink me, too.”

Synopsis

When Jamie Keller's father is killed in Iraq by a roadside bomb, her mother decides to combat the financial and emotional stress by moving the family from Hamilton, Ohio to the rural town of Promise, Oregon.

Fourteen-year-old Jamie narrates the tale of the journey, intermingling descriptions of family dynamics with her own personal philosophy of life.

The victims of Jamie's scrutiny include: older sister Jenny, who listens to praise music and wears a WWJD bracelet; younger brother Jake, contained and brainy, with know-it-all tendencies; and little sister Jana, lover of animals and sometimes the comic relief.

In Reno, Nevada, the mystery begins when Jamie's mother fails to pick the kids up at the mall as had been previously arranged.

After waiting for hours in the blazing heat, brother Jake finally goes in search of his mom only to return with an amazing story. He has located the car, and everything in it is intact (including the family's pet cats), but Mrs. Keller is nowhere to be found. Intensive searching proves futile. Their mother has vanished!

Nervous about becoming wards of the state of Nevada, and fearful of being put in separate foster homes, the Keller kids decide to avoid authority, choosing instead to take the gamble, and continue on to Promise, Oregon.

On the way into town, a giant JESUS banner is the first sign that Promise is in a bible belt. Jenny is thrilled, Jamie, not so.

Upon arriving at the ranch, the Kellers are met with further disappointment when they discover that the 'ranch' is nothing more than an old trailer, situated off the grid. Jake is in his element, with the challenge of solar panels, batteries and generators, but the girls are far from enchanted.

War, religion, world peace, inner peace, dealing with financial stress and self sufficiency are some of the key topics in this often humorous story story.

Off the Grid is a contemporary novelette directed at a young teen audience but enjoyed by all ages.

Excerpt

By the time we got to Reno the whole idea of having anything to do with my family completely lost its charm. I hated these people! Even Jana was whining, and Jake’s ability to stay so distant and calm was rattling my cage, too. Speaking of cages, I hadn’t mentioned how the cats were faring in all of this. I hadn’t mentioned how they pooped in Nebraska, forcing us to drive with the windows down, in over one-hundred degree heat. We suffered for over an hour, without air conditioning, until we could get to the rest stop and clean the cage. Poor Isaiah and Schwartz, they were panting, and so miserable. We were seriously concerned for them. 
    And then, there was Jenny. For being such a Christian, it amazed me how blatantly materialistic she was. Her mall withdrawal was just plain annoying, and she wouldn’t let it go; begging Mom to stop at every mall we saw along the way, and then sulking till the next, when it would start all over again. I imagined she had to be holding out some of her own funds if she wanted to get to the mall so badly. However, Jenny had certain leverage here, because her birthday was three days after we got the news about Dad. It was a shame she’d had such a sad fifteenth birthday, but she was milking it for all it was worth. Lucky for her, Jana had left all her underwear (in the form of clean laundry) on Cousin Robin’s bed, back in Hamilton, and was putting in her own pleas for replacements.

Synopsis

Known for hunting the supernatural, no mortal man realizes Lord Cedric is one of Sorceress Morrighan’s abominations. After competing in a tournament, he is wed to a Lady of the Court, Angeline. Cedric’s senses begin to overwhelm him and he struggles to decipher his feelings; Are they a creation of his incubine bloodline or truly heartfelt emotions for the girl who has lost it all to him? He finds himself forced to choose between falling in love or continuing his suicidal quest to kill his creator. Epic battles against all manners of beasts and demons fill this story with memorable antagonists such as Morrighan and her two sisters; Romasanta the Father of Werewolves; Succubus Queen Lillith and many more. Find yourself engulfed in lores and history long forgotten from the 12th Century and beyond.

Excerpt

Angeline’s face mottled. Raised on a farm, she couldn’t help but scoff at the fact his lordship was rather bold for someone of his rank. In all her years at the Castle, not even a peasant had dared to spit in front of a Lady of the Court, let alone relieve himself. It was exasperating keeping her back to him. He was right behind her doing his business while she was trying to gather wood. Dropping what little she had in a pile, she decided it would have to wait. He was in the way and was in no mood to go too far from the camp. She watched as the horses started fussing and fidgeting at their hitching tree. Her eyes caught a strange movement from the tree. Once more, the bare tree shuddered and one horse screamed, pulling its reins tight as it backed away. “There it is.” Cedric finished and turned around to walk back to the horses. “Stay back.” “What is going on?” Swallowing her nervousness, she watched the dead tree quiver again and more screams came from the horses. “What is happening?” “Dinner.” Scoffing, he stopped halfway; the horses were frantic and trying to tug free, biting at their reins. Despite the distance, Angeline could see the whites of the eyes of the horses that were now pawing at the tree. They were desperate and frightened beyond anything she had ever seen. One horse managed to break free and sped off down the trail, leaving its companion screaming and bucking. The other horse was fighting to free itself, but all it produced were raw spots from its harness that dripped blood down its cheek. The bright red lines glistened in the sunlight as the struggle continued. A rumbling was coming from the ground as the dead tree started to grow taller as if a weed pulled up by an unseen hand. The horse was bucking and squealing, foam dripping from its mouth, eyes wild with fear. In horror, Angeline watched as the ground exploded, the horse pulled high in the air. The dead tree was the horn on the nose of a Sand Orm. It was a massive serpent with scales running down into the ground that imitated the look of an earthworm. Smooth and the color of the soil, she marveled over its size as she caught glimpses of a treelike fin that ran the beast’s length. Once more, the ground trembled under her feet. The mammoth Orm snatched the horse dangling from its nose-horn into its mouth. Its gapping jaws were large enough to hold three horses with room for the riders. She slid to her knees in awe as she watched the massive creature eat. Its jaws muffling the horse’s scream quickly, despite the lack of any teeth besides the hard boulder-lined lips. Her ears met with a mixture of crackling and popping, unsure of when she was hearing the bones of the horse or simply the stony collision of the monster’s jaws. Lord Cedric was unmoved. The Orm turned its enormous head to face Cedric, a low groaning rippled from it as it did so. Trees and bushes shifted and moved just behind it and down the trail. The entire forest snaked back and forth like waves on the ocean connected to this monster that towered over them like a small mountain. Th

Synopsis

When Beth's eccentric boss at the government research lab asks her to try out his latest duplicating machine, she'd be crazy to do any such thing. She's not cleared for this, insured or authorized; it's late Friday evening and she wants to go home. But Beth is fatally unassertive. She agrees, and unknown to her another Beth is created.

The replica overhears MI5 chief, Sir Peter Ellis, discussing her future - or rather, lack of it. Terrified, she goes on the run. Penniless, friendless and homeless, she has to find the inner strength and aggression to survive on icy London streets.

Spec op Nick Cavanagh likes to win. Though Beth thinks he's outside her apartment to protect her, in fact he's hunting her double. As the replica proves difficult to catch and the stakes get higher, he has to decide whose side he is on.

Excerpt

Beth had stacked the dishes and was wiping surfaces when Nick returned with Ollie’s tray. He moved to the sink and turned the tap on, then got the Fairy Liquid from the cupboard under the sink.

“It’s okay, I can do that…”

Nick disregarded her and carried on. “You wipe, I don’t know where things go.”

The washing up didn’t take long. As they did it, they made desultory conversation like old friends. When the last saucepan was clean, Nick ran the water away, put the inevitable lone teaspoon he had missed on the draining board, wrung out the dishcloth, laid it over the tap and dried his hands. Beth picked up the teaspoon, wiped it, and put it in the drawer. She leaned back against the counter and smiled at him, fingering a red-gold tendril of hair which twisted in a perfect spiral, shining like metal. Funny, Sandra’s hair was red, too, a dyed dark red that was heavy and dead compared to Beth’s.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He reached out, pulled the curl gently and let it go. It straightened, and sprang back when released. She stared at her feet, then as if compelled, raised her gaze to his. Nick gave her the look that usually worked; women liked his eyes, dark, warm, not altogether trustworthy, and he knew it.

In the room next door the phone rang. Beth didn’t move to answer it; her eyes stayed on his; he noticed the irises were darker round their rims, and as she blushed they became bluer. The moment lengthened, till the phone finally stopped ringing. Nick stepped through that invisible barrier which separates strangers and keeps them apart, and laid his cheek on hers. Giving her plenty of time to recoil or remonstrate, should she want to, he leaned against her, turned his head and kissed her soft lips. Three heartbeats, then her arms circled his waist, pulling him closer. She’s thinking of the boyfriend, how he cheated on her…if this isn’t a window of opportunity, I don’t know what is.

After some time, mid-kiss, Beth smiled. It is not possible to kiss satisfactorily while smiling. Nick drew back and raised his eyebrows. She said, “How can I put this…is that a gun in your pocket?”

Nick laughed. “I don’t carry a gun.” He kissed her again. “It’s a taser.”

“Goodness…”

His voice went lower. “Though I am quite pleased to see you.” His hand slid under her jumper, discovering a silky layer beneath. The counter she leaned on got in the way; it was probably digging into her back, too. “There’s a lot to be said for doing this horizontally, on