Presence of Place


Is a collection of thirteen mysterious short stories. Each one has been carefully crafted to entertain and delight you. If you like the short extracts that follow you can buy the book by post. The price is £5.99 with P&P of £0.72.
Trapped by Sue Kelly

Judith knelt in front of the cat basket where Honey was curled up. Honey was a tabby whose dark stripes gave her a smiling face. Her personality went with the stripes. She had always been a happy, contented cat. Judith was concerned because the bowl of cat food was untouched. Honey’s face was tucked into her bushy tail and, unusually, she took no notice of her. A flare of panic welled up in Judith’s breast. Honey was old, each vet’s visit now had that nagging worry that Honey wouldn’t be returning home.
Judith clasped her hands to her breast. Then decisively stood up, Honey could not be left to suffer. Quickly she walked into the lounge of her flat. A young man swung around at her entrance. With an exasperated cry of despair she ran out of the room faster than she had entered it.
Now of all times Judith thought, for the ghost to visit! He terrified her, not that he did anything, just looked at her with those startling blue eyes full of anguish. She would never have bought the flat in the Old Presbytery if she had known it was haunted. On previous history she knew he would stay for hours and the only phone was in there with him.
All her neighbours would be at work by now and the building would be empty. There was no other choice, she had to venture out. With a compulsive swallow she walked towards the door. Her hand hovered over the key. She drew it away. Sweat covered her body. Desperately she tried again. She could not bring herself to open the door. Thinking of Honey, she closed her eyes, thrust her hand out...

To read on you need to buy Presence of Place.

Palace Plaza by Teresa Holmes

The Palace Plaza she was finally here. The name conjured up visions of sunny street parties and festivals, gaudy clothes and lithe beautiful women dancing with slim-hipped young men. Moira felt her hands tingle with anticipation as she stood back to savour the flashing sign. The thrill of the moment was quickly broken by a sharp sensation in her left rib. She turned to see Pattie Pierce glancing round the small but noisy queue. She looked nervous.
‘Go on,’ Pattie hissed, nudging Moira again. ‘Get in before anyone sees us.’
‘But, I thought you said …’
‘Get in, go on …’
Another push, harder this time, and Moira was catapulted over the threshold.
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of excitement, confusion and delight. Most of the girls were older than Moira had expected: late teens, twenties, thirties even … really old. The men were even older. Most of the men sat at the bar or stood round the outside of the small dance area, chattering in groups, ogling the few women brave enough to dance on the almost-empty floor, or staring at the door as if waiting for a friend. All this Moira saw in moments. Her first dance: she wanted to savour every second: to breathe the perfumed air, to watch the experienced dancers weave their way round the floor or gyrate on the spot as if bewitched by the magic of the occasion.
‘Cloakroom.’ Patti gave the dreamy Moira another push.
‘I knew we shouldn’t have brought her.’ Moira blushed. Thelma Broadhurst, Patti’s best friend, had never liked her. ‘She’s just a kid,’ she’d say, scathing and cruel. ‘She’ll make us look like kids.’ ‘Who’s going to dance with her, anyway?’
Moira’s blush deepened. Thelma was right. She glanced down at her bright yellow dress with the large, round black buttons. It had seemed so adult in the shop, so right, so special, but now it made her look like an over-ripe banana, and her legs … Moira shuddered at the thought: thick ankles, bulging calves and muscular thighs. At least they were covered by the banana skin.

To read on you need to buy Presence of Place.