PREFACE: A Room of Their Own: Women’s Home–Museums Revealed “Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story.” –Homer The word museum...

THE LAST VISIT I enter the building, as I have done once a week for the last five years, via the broken main entrance doors. It’s dark inside, dark due to all the boarded-up windows. The windows have all been broken at some point and re-boarded many times, only to have them broken away again by local vandals. My footsteps echo eerily as I walk through the vast open spaces. Soiled sleeping bags lay around in plenty of corners, empty beer cans and spirit bottles alike have been

GOT WHAT WAS COMING' by Hilly Barmby is a gritty, coming-of-age, domestic thriller. Got What Was Coming alternates between past and...

UNDERGROUND AN EXCERPT The letter arrived first thing. I'd been expecting it, but my stomach still flipped when I saw my name printed...

MASQUERADE OF MURDER AN EXCERPT It had been a few days since the funeral of Lorraine—the long-standing and dedicated desk sergeant. She’d...

'Only good girls keep diaries. Bad girls don’t have time.' - Tallulah Bankhead Chapter One Hot to Trot Leona Patrone was hot and bothered - again. Tonight she was anticipating a Skype session with one of the younger gentlemen she’d met on social media. She was getting better with each session. She’d had lots of practice since the divorce when Jack moved out, leaving her all alone in her spacious upscale condo. Leona had too much time on her hands and a huge sexual appetite th

" When I dream about people I often see them in real life if not the next day then sometime shortly after my dream. They were usually...

The Call of Lanterman’s Mill by Lorraine Carey When Adele Landers called her friends Kristen and Maribel about their study group...

1820 North Devon, England Betsey, a sadly neglected child, is shouldering responsibilities far beyond her years. As she does her best to...

CHAPTER 17 I was sickened, disgusted with myself. Once again, I took the cowardly way out. I rolled over in bed, for the umpteenth time. I’d been tossing and turning, running scenarios through my head; a short story being dramatised in so many different ways, so many different places, some of the best Hollywood actors playing the role of André. The ending was always the same though; he was used, cast aside, hurt. No matter how, where, and why it was happening, Helen Rushfort