Make up your bloody mind, Kezia, you already had new year! he’d growled.
I set out one day in 1915, to see what an ordinary English girl could accomplish.
A story is like life, like a meal – get to the end.
We thought that we’d moved well out of Bee’s reach, but she was impressed when she heard about our new house-sit across the bay.
Back home it never snows.
“You’ve probably already guessed.” Pagan stares across the small corner table.
Elena doesn’t get out much. She’s at her chair all day every day, working the old black Singer, the thrum of her balance wheel her company.
The girl in the kiss breaks away to peer over his denim shoulder.
Hazel tips her brown paper bag and ten green grenades roll across the kitchen counter.