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A good deed by the recently unemployed coachman Thomas McQuade has strange consequences.
Modern fable about a physician who sells a miraculous yellow paint.
A man drinks a magic potion and sleeps through the American Revolution. Classic reworking of a European folk-tale.
Not even fame can protect you when the world goes wrong.
Fantasy, in the vein of Jean Auel, about a lost tribe who's future is threatened by the encroachment of modern man. Contains descriptions of violence.
A man is told by a palm reader that he will commit a murder. A satirical crime story that cleverly reverses the conventions of the genre.
In the heat of battle, with tens of thousands of Germans descending on the British trenches and all hope lost, a man prays to Saint George.
It is said that when a Cernogratz dies in the family castle, the wolves in the forest howl all night long ... but Baroness Gruebel, new owner of Cernogratz castle, is sceptical.
Piecing together events after a touch of amnesia concerning the previous night, the clues begin to take a sinister turn. Contains descriptions of violence.
Rupert becomes increasingly hateful towards his incompetent brother-in-law to be.
A game of Scrabble has serious consequences.
A semi-barbaric king devises a semi-barabaric (but entirely fair) method of criminal trial involving two doors, a beautiful lady and a very hungry tiger.
Sandra performed her little charade in front of the mirror and morphed into the Gisela character on a whim. She had a small tickle of flirtatious laughter down pat.
Beth wore her favorite pink smock. It had bottomless pockets perfect for carrying important things like handfuls of rubber bands, marbles the color of oceans, a red shoelace, a spoon, and two troops of plastic soldiers- one blue and one green.
I won’t tell anyone about the diagnosis.
Not my mother or sister. Certainly not Jake. Maybe not even Steve.
Jack Scrimshaw. Born 22/05/1991. Collected over the course of 10 years at Dartmoor Prison and Correction facility. The following entries were deemed pertinent to these proceedings.
Here in Saint Lizard, the one road starts on the cliff by the lighthouse and crawls in circles down to the sea. We have enough town to justify a strange-shaped road, but not enough to justify two roads.
Stella cannot remember a time before nature was her haven, her place of peace and healing. It was a big part of her life before she met her husband and the father of her two children.
A flash bursts from behind me, projecting shadows onto the pavement. We turn and all share the same vision. An orange mushroom cloud billows on the horizon, but it continues to rise into the sky.
Outwardly Seth didn’t react as he watched Mrs. Hatfield misplay the four spade contract, but inwardly he groaned. True, she made it, but most of the other pairs would make it with an overtrick.
