A story of fate, love, happiness and bitterness, set in an Art Studio.

Through flashbacks, we learn how Justin and Julia came to the encounter, which leads to the point of no return.

Chance Encounter

Part One.

Human Form.

Julia.

She wondered how this week would go. Her palms were sweating; she was nervous about facing a naked male body and scrutinising it. Silly really. At her age, she had seen more than her fair share. She had married twice and had countless boyfriends before, during and after. She was not unattractive, not attractive and she knew she had once had immense sex appeal.

Julia had finally taken a sabbatical, after almost twenty years of working an office job, to complete the art studies she started when she was eighteen. Circumstances when she turned nineteen ended her dream of ever being good at drawing or of being an artist. She had always regretted that and yearned to pick up a pencil and sketch again. So here she was. Widowed for four years now, embarking on an art course.

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Callum is a patissier whose chocolate fountain brings him not only success, but love. Follow the flow of the melted confection and see the excitement it brings to him.

Chocolate Angel

Silky, glossy, the fluid stream cascaded over the curved lip and flowed down, continuous and mesmerizing, into a slick, velvety cushion. The brunette licked her lips. Her curled eyelashes batted up and down. She lifted her hand and drew a delicate finger over her soft bottom lip, which was parted in readiness. Her breathing quickened. She leant forward, eyes wide.

“Earth to Suz. What are you waiting for?” The other woman waved her already chocolate-stained linen napkin in front of her friend’s face.

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Lucy has been in therapy for issues stemming from her not so nice childhood. When her therapist offers her a solution, she acts upon it. This chilling tale is set in Alderley Edge, where Lucy’s imagination was captured even as a child.

On the Edge

Today.

Lucy crouched deeper into the moss. Pulled her hat lower and shifted her scarf higher.

“Now!”

As she forced herself out of the bushes her ears fuzzed up and her focus narrowed. Her heart was jumping and her breath came out a pant. She heard a raven’s shrill call. Knocking down the woman coming up the path, she splayed herself on top of her and reached for the white, wrinkled flesh above the duffle coat collar. Her gloved fingers squeezed. And squeezed.

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A teenage girl faces her dying days. Eunice finds love, peace and happiness just when she most needs it.

Pooh Bear

‘I am dying. I know this. It will be soon. I am terrified. I am sad. I am angry. I refuse to speak to my parents when they come because they pretend that I will go home soon. I will. But not to their home. I am shaking. I can feel tears sliding down my cheeks. They roll over my chin and wet my neck. If I move my head on the Dettol-scented pillow I can get them to collect in the hollow above my clavicle. I won’t wipe them off. Physical feeling is disappearing in waves up my body. It started with my toes. Then my ankles, shins, knees and my thighs. I can still scratch my tummy but my tummy doesn’t feel it, only my fingers do. So I will leave the wet patch there because I can still feel that. I am dying.’

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A modern fairytale where good triumphs over evil. Greg is forced to turn to petty theft when he finds himself unemployable.

Under the spell of a cat’s pure soul and with the kindness of Lucy, his luck turns around.

The Nanny

“Quit staring, cat!” Greg was in a foul mood. He picked up a stick, throwing it at the cat. Unfazed, she continued to stare at him from under the tree. He bitterly wondered if there would ever be a time when no one stared at his disfigured face. His motorbike had slid out from under him on the M1, hitting a patch of oil, the engine catching fire as they both skidded along the hard shoulder. He came to a stop unconscious, his face against the flaming fuel tank.

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A touching story of how Jennifer pulls her life together after losing her husband, aided by her daughter, her Dad and memories of Tom, her husband.

Tom

It was so hard to get out of bed. Jennifer struggled again on Wednesday, the same as she had all week, since the funeral and the dark days before that. At the point where her eyes ached from crying and her tummy ached from forcing down food that no longer held any enjoyment, she wondered how she was going to carry on. A life without Tom was no life at all.

“Mum, I can’t find any socks and my shirt’s still in the laundry basket.”

Silence.

“Muuuuuum! I’m gonna be late for school.”

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