Sometimes in the house, he would close his eyes and he could almost hear Sarah’s voice floating through the halls and rooms, or her fingers brushing...his cheeks and lips. Alan wrote this off to his over-active imagination. Now, several years after he had first come here, he stood in the attic again, breathing the dust and wondering where he should start searching. He had gotten a late start and the sun was already setting behind the horizon, reds and golds blazing the sky. He moved over to one. “I don't think this is really the book you want me to publish, is it Lizzy? Why don't you come over this afternoon and we'll go through some ideas.”“OK Emma, around 2pm OK?” Lizzy was probably cowering on the other end of the phone. She had been writing good short stories for a couple of years but had tried her hand at erotica and frankly it looked like she had 'cut and pasted' her ideas off the net. It was all disjointed and with no compassion for the characters. Reviewing books for. More

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