‘He’s terribly cute.’
Cute aren’t I?
I’d make a lovely lodger. Neat. Tidy. Quiet, except for when the postman comes and you need an advance warning of him shoving danger through the letterbox. Continue reading “An Ode to Sausages | Short Story”
Today is the launch of my latest collection of short stories, Come What May Day, which naturally has me feeling all excited and utterly fraught with nerves in equal measures.
Just like my last collection, each story in Come What May Day takes place in the same nameless Yorkshire town and on the same day, only this time the onset of spring has brought about some new adventures.
May Day has arrived and the storm clouds have parted just enough for the annual May Fair to kick off without a hitch. But how long will it be until the town’s dark streak rears its ugly head? Continue reading “Come What May Day | Another Short Story Collection!”
The Kindle version of my debut book, Merry Bloody Christmas: A Short Story Collection, is available for 99p until 26th December!
Grab it now on Amazon
Countdown to Christmas with 24 contemporary short stories
In a gloomy Yorkshire town on a snowy Christmas Eve, nothing pans out exactly as it should…
An awkward breakup, a vengeful turkey, digitalised ghosts and alien abductions.
A chocoholic grizzly bear, a talking Christmas tree, mince pie overdoses and a very bloody murder.
Will poor old Saint Nick make it out alive?
Sad, strange, funny and gruesome, this overlapping, multi-genre collection of tales has a little something for every reader. Curl up with a mulled wine and some fictional festive misery, and discover what Father Christmas really likes to drink when he wriggles down your chimney. Spoiler: it isn’t milk.
He told us we could have a second chance.
All we had to do was a single favour for a shot at redemption. One last moment of sin in return for an eternity on the top floor. Continue reading “More Will Burn”
Three loud knocks jolted the interviewer out of her daze. She let out a small groan, frustrated that yet another candidate had arrived early.
She assumed they all believed that being early would win them points, but in reality it only irritated her. When she said 10.30, she meant 10.30 – not 10.20 or 10.25 or even 10.27. Every single minute of peace was vital when you had to spend your day interviewing inept, inexperienced graduates who knew all the bullshit words in the book to come off as smarter than they actually were. Continue reading “The Interview: Part 2”
The candidate ran his hand through his hair, straightened his tie, and then knocked three times on the door. It was a strong knock, he thought. Firm, yet friendly. At least, that’s how he hoped the interviewer would see it.
He was a few minutes early to demonstrate his time-keeping abilities. After all, he had little else going for him other than the fact that he could avoid tardiness. Continue reading “The Interview: Part 1”
“Floor 3 today?”
RAPL’s receptionist looked up into Claire’s face with the same look that she would give had she stepped in something brown and noxious. Claire was different today. Her meek, mouse-like appearance had given way to self-confidence. Her chin was raised, and there was not a hint of a stutter in her voice. And that didn’t do at all. Continue reading “The Intern: Part 4”
RAPL’s receptionist looked up with her eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Um. I’m Claire. The Intern?”
“I know,” the receptionist said coldly.
Claire nodded. “Just wondering where I need to be today.”
“Floor two. Take the lift. Ask for Leslie.” Continue reading “The Intern: Part 3”
“Hi, I’m Claire? The intern?”
RAPL’s receptionist looked up at the worried face before her and replied, “I know, we established that yesterday.”
Claire turned pink. “I… I just want to know where I’m supposed to be today.”
The receptionist sighed and pointed at elevator doors on the wall to Claire’s left. “First floor. Ask for Bob.” Continue reading “The Intern: Part 2”
“Hello, I’m Claire.”
RAPL’s jaded receptionist looked up at the slim hand that was stretched out toward her, then traced her eyes up further to the beaming, nervous face to which it belonged.
The receptionist didn’t take the hand. Instead, she looked back down at her monitor and barked, “Surname?” Continue reading “The Intern: Part 1”