July 1822... Percy Shelley had been reckless ignoring the storm warnings, and the violent squall would not be outrun. Moments before tumultuous waves engulfed the Don Juan and its sailors, Percy shoved a book of Keat's poems into his pocket. Most appropriately, poetry would be this Romantic poet's last thought before his death on that fateful day. Adding to the trauma of their loved ones, the uncaring sea wouldn't spit th...

Birdie’s son left in the Spring. She rarely saw him in that last six months he’d lived there anyway. He'd worked full time at Domino’s, came home after midnight, went straight into his room in the basement. She heard the TV. She heard the trips to the fridge for food. Occasionally she’d hear a friend of his come in with him, play video games for a couple hours, leave. She listened from her bedroom on the second floor. Aft...

I’ve got my headphones on and the music’s blasting round my mind, courtesy of the wonders of Spotify, as I stand in the shop and look at the clothes. I’m listening to a Small Faces show from 1966 in Belgium, newly discovered they’re saying. It’s the earliest record of them live that’s preserved for posterity and it’s on fire with its crashing guitars and deep and hard-edged Hammond organ. What I would give to have been th...

"Beep!" A coke can. "Beep!" Rusty barbed wire. Every time Derek got a response from his metal detector, it turned out to be another worthless item. The farmer always gave him permission to check out his field after the autumn ploughing, and all day he had been working back and forth without a single meaningful find. As dusk was approaching, Derek decided it was time to give up for the day and head home. But as he collecte...

October 27th, 1814, and the wind blowing over the clouded northern moors had winter on its breath and darkness in its heart. Rustling over the heather, hissing through the bracken before moaning down the slopes of the natural bowl which couched the still waters of the small lake. The smooth surface of water heaved and tossed at the arrival of the devil’s wind, as the villagers called it. They knew it was the early herald...

I have a strange tale for you, a very strange tale indeed. I almost don’t know where to start. I suppose the beginning may be a good idea. Firstly, I’m a writer. I write crime novels, perhaps you’ve read some of them. My name is Rambles, Verity Rambles. Oh dear, I’ve only just started and already I’m sounding like James Bond. Sadly I’m not; I’m just a writer. I’m a big fan of the nineteen-twenties. Most, if not all of my...

“I fucking hate magpies,” said Tony, passing the pack of cigarettes to his friends gathered around him in the dark of the basement. “They’re mean,” said Bobby, as he took a cigarette and passed it down the line. “I hate the way they swoop. They’re scary.” “Ooh, Bobby’s scared of birds,” said Kyle, receiving the pack and pulling out a cigarette. “Scared the little birds are gonna poke at his little head.” “Stop it, Kyle.”...

It’s that moment when you know you’re being watched; when an invisible hand reaches into your dreams and drags you back to reality. The shock sends your heart racing, the panic intensifying when inner voices whisper, Don’t make a sound, something’s not right. We’ve all experienced that prickling sensation as the hairs on the back of our neck stand to attention while our ears burn, straining to pick out the tiniest of soun...

To everyone in the room, she seemed like just a normal girl wearing Vans, blue jeans, and a red hoodie. No one really paid her much attention as she walked to the back of the bar and settled into a booth. Maureen did notice the girl as she came out of the kitchen. The server looked the girl over carefully. She decided that ID needed to be checked. This new patron did not look nineteen; more like fifteen or sixteen. “What...

Tara woke to the constant beep of the heart monitor. She looked around the small, whitewashed room that blinded her light-sensitive eyes to the bright LED lights. She turned her head slowly, feeling the soft linen bandages wrapped tightly around her chest, hiding the nasty scars from her view. She felt like shedding a tear, knowing that someone had seen the evidence of her abuse, but none seemed to come. She raised the me...

Robert slowly walked along the gravel road with soft crunching under his boots. He walked throughout the night, listening to the quiet night music drifting from the marshy fields around the creek and the dense cedar forest. Robert smelt the refreshing floral scents wafting on the gentle breeze. Robert allowed himself to relax as he felt the slight resistance. “I, Robert Silver-bane, return to Bloodraven after accomplishin...

                You think Christmas is only for children? That's what old Jim Hadfield thought too and as he was to discover, it is simply a matter of never losing sight of what Christmas intrinsically means and what magic exists still, in those remote places holed-up between fantasy and reality, hope and disillusionment.   Jim dreamed - just like everyone else. He dreamed of bygone days when he would leap from his bed Ch...

The tech lab shares a wall with their workstation, yet they need to take the long way around. Captain Euryale has mentioned adding a door in the detectives' station that would connect to the tech lab, but it would have to go in her office or they would need to rewire the entire room. Valerian's uncertain as to what she has decided. He doesn't bother knocking, just enters Devan's lab. Knocking doesn't make much difference,...

It was around 10 p.m. when a lone car careened down the empty rural road, engine growling, disrupting the peace of a lonely night. Its headlights ploughed through the darkness ahead as it angrily chewed up the centre lines along the road, then spewed them out in the rear, back into the nothingness trailing in its wake. Reggie Morton sat in the driver’s seat of the Corolla, leaning forward, his fingers closed so tightly ar...

Hartland Quay, North Devon. A place of absolute beauty. On a sunny summers day, with the tide gently splashing over the rocks, it is hard to imagine anything but a tranquil, restful scene. At low tide, however, there is much evidence of the destruction that can be wreaked by the ever-powerful ocean. It was on one such day that I found myself driving through the narrow streets of Hartland village. I hadn't been here for ma...