A heir has an attack of concience and tries to 'pay back' his capitalist father's ill-gotten gains - but finds it harder than he imagined.

Danny McCree wakes up one morning to find it's Easter Day and his father's on about hippopotamuses.

When an American minister buys Canterville Chase, a long term resident's life (or death) is thrown into turmoil.

They were his creation and he cared for them like a father should.

For seven years, dead girls came to my office.

If you’re going to spend a lot of time with a woman before you put her behind bars, she might as well be a looker.

A terrible tragedy had overtaken two friends of mine, diving buddies of three years standing, but I was alive.

As I gaze at the living room clock, I reach for the bottle on the coffee table. I take a drink, staring at the Roman numerals, listening for the ticking sound, but then I hear something outside.

On a summer evening in August, Laura sat cross-legged on the concrete floor of the teepee-shaped rec center. The air was heavy and warm inside.

When Dmitri slammed head-on into his watershed moment, he was behind the wheel of a Ford F-250 doing eighty up I-5, somewhere north of Azalea, Oregon.

It’s not every day you get an offer like that. In fact, most days, you don’t get an offer at all.

She had been twitching and gasping all night. It wasn’t unusual. Night terrors plagued her.

A sudden bright orange-red light illuminated the sea, and there, amongst the inky black sloshing waves, a small island became visible. Smoke filled the tiny land, and a circular beast of a machine rose to the sky.

“Very well,” I say. “I will prove to you that every person on this planet has a calling. Would you like to hear a story?”

In his head, this all made sense. The next-door neighbour’s garden was the goal – just a simple chip to cover four yards and a metre fence in the middle. Easy.