“Would you like to write a short story that I can publish on my blog?”
Those were the words of Marsha Ingrao, a writer and blogger who blogs at Always Write, who went on to create something special with the story I submitted.
The story, The People Under the Stairs, received many comments, many of which led to discussions. It was like sitting in a book club discussing the book everyone had read that month.
Three years later, Story Chat is a big success. Two books containing the stories for it have been published, and a third book is in the pipeline.
What is Story Chat?
Story Chat is more than a book club or writing or reading challenge. It is a unique and proven online program that encourages interaction between authors and readers. It’s part writers’ group, part beta readers, part fun fiction, and, best of all, pure enjoyment.
I give all the credit to Marsha, who had the idea. Although I contributed some input, Marsha worked hard to make Story Chat successful.
Story Chat Vol II is available on Amazon.
Story Chat—Vol. II, the 2024 compilation, was expertly edited by Colleen Cheseboro. As I reflect on the pages of the book, I feel a sense of happiness and pride in having contributed to both it and the Story Chat—Vol. I book.
This second book features a varied collection of original short stories by 20 authors from around the globe. While most stories are dramas suitable for all ages, from children to older adults, this collection includes science fiction and comedy. Additionally, two non-fiction articles (one of which I penned) discussing the writing process are included. All selections are family-friendly, even though the topics cater to adult readers.
Once you begin reading Story Chat, you won’t be able to put it down.
The book features realistic fiction, surprises, and open-ended stories. Halloween vampire horror tales may make you laugh and reflect on how you can find humour in them. Travelling to an alternate universe – familiar to some – will keep you entertained. You might discover yourself stepping into one or two other universes that are so bizarre you won’t know how to respond to them. My story, ‘The Watcher,’ which centres on a walk in the fog, is one of those peculiar tales.
The characters will move you to tears as they courageously reach for love or confront tragedies you wish no one had to endure. You will chuckle at the older couple deliberating whether to book the adventure of a nudist cruise. You will root for a mother and her autistic child as they overcome challenges. One story will evoke memories of Toy Story or The Velveteen Rabbit. Another feature is an epic children’s poem with illustrations crafted from fondant by the talented author and her son.
The book is so much fun. Yet, it can be educational, especially for writers who constantly work to improve their craft. Each story has discussion questions you can use if you belong to a book club or writing group.
All of us, known as Story Chatters, hope this book will impact your lives.
You can purchase the Story Chat Vol II by following these links. Amazon.uk and Amazon.com
Six Reasons to Own This Book
Great reading when relaxing on holiday.
Introduce the Story Chat concept to your friends as a coffee table book.
A book for writing groups or book clubs to improve members’ writing.
Stories in the book are no longer available to read online.
A birthday or any time of the year gift for friends that read.
You’ll be supporting a growing number of blogging authors and writers to publish next year.
Story Chat Vol: I
Don’t forget to also take a look at Story Chat Vol: I, which includes stories from 14 international authors.
I have two stories in this book – ‘The People Under The Stairs’ and ‘Puddles,’ both of which will take you on a journey to the edge of your imagination.
Do I have any favourite stories in the books?
Yes, but I’m not going to share them with you. Every story has a reason why it’s in the book, and behind every story is a talented author and writer who has poured their heart and soul into crafting each word.
It is not merely about telling a tale; it’s about the intricate web of ideas, emotions, and experiences that culminate in a narrative that resonates with readers on various levels.
Each author draws from a well of inspiration, life experiences, and unique perspectives, making the stories not just entertainment but also a means of connection, reflection, and understanding of our world.
We’re seeking writers, authors, and bloggers to contribute stories to Story Chat 2025, which is currently underway on Marsha’s Blog. For full details, please visit Marsha’s blog.
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Let me start by saying that writing book reviews is rare for me. Why? I don’t read books because my dyslexia makes reading many of them difficult.
I understand the importance of maintaining independence and authenticity in reviews. So, I must ensure that my evaluations are based solely on the book’s merit and not influenced by personal connections or online interactions with the author.
This review pertains to a book penned by an unfamiliar author I encountered on X (formerly Twitter) while promoting their work. It’s worth noting that promoting books on social media can indeed bring results. It’s knowing how to promote them that’s important.
Now that’s all out of the way, let me begin my review for the first book (in two years) where I’ve managed to reach the end without ever wanting to put it down and walk away!
Borrowed Time by Russell Dean.
Blurb:
‘Tom Jacob is bored with his life.
He’s stuck in a job he doesn’t like, his love life is non-existent, and he’s tired of being seen as boring and dependable, so when his wayward twin brother convinces him to spend a night partying instead of doing paperwork, Tom reluctantly agrees.
The following morning he wakes up in a field. In Wales. In 1889.
Stranded more than a century in the past, Tom has to overcome language barriers and suspicion as he attempts to adapt to the world around him and find a way back to his own time, but with two people from the sleepy village of Cwm Newydd now missing, one local resident seems hell bent on pinning the blame for their disappearance on the strange Englishman who appeared out of nowhere.
Determined to find his way home, the discovery of a long hidden family secret will change Tom’s life forever, and when romance comes knocking he’ll be left wondering in which timeline his heart truly lies.’
Borrowed Time – by Russell Dean
What attracted me to the book wasn’t the cover but the blurb’s description of it as a time-travelling story. I love time travel. It’s one of my favourite genres (in the science-fiction category). But when I discovered this was a gay time-travelling story, my interest in the book was even more inquisitive. A gay-themed time-travelling story? That’s a first for me.
I wasn’t keen on the romance element of the book’s blurb. It’s a genre that has never appealed to me. When I hear or read the word ‘romance,’ I immediately think of silly movies like Notting Hill, Marley and Me, and Love Actually—movies that always send me to sleep. Would this book do the same? No!
From the moment I opened the book, I felt at home, all cosy with my feet up and a pot of English Breakfast tea on the go. The first page intrigued me and made me want to know more. I knew some of the story would be set in Wales, so perhaps this is what made me feel at home. Even though it starts in England, I knew (from the blurb) that Tom (the main character) would travel in time and end up in Wales. However, he didn’t get there quickly.
Although it took a while for the time travel to happen, the story’s opening was gripping and made me wonder what was happening in Tom’s life and want to find out more. Tom thinks he leads a dull and boring life, but it is anything but dull and boring in the opening part of the book.
Once Tom does time travel back to Wales (and he gets there in an intriguing way), the story shifts up a few gears and becomes even more gripping. I was so engrossed in what was happening that I did not want to put the book down, so I had to force myself away to deal with other matters (when they occurred) that needed my attention. Otherwise, I would have read the whole book in one sitting.
‘Borrowed Time’ was often on my mind when I was not reading it. Even when trying to fall asleep, I found myself working out what would happen next and guessing how the story would end (I always have a habit of doing that). The chapters, some of which were a bit on the long side, all ended on cliffhangers, so the urge was there to find out, but rarely did I guess what would happen next.
Something that has never happened to me before when reading a book is falling in love with one of the characters. Don’t get me wrong, Russell Dean described all his characters well, but one particular character stood out more than the others. Whenever that character disappeared from the story, I found myself urging them to come back again soon. That’s how much of an impact that character had on me. I won’t say which character I am referring to, but weeks after finishing the book, they often cross my mind, and I wish they were real.
Something else I loved about the book was some of the ‘old’ traditions played out by some of the characters in 1890s Wales. For example, in one scene, a bride empties a purse of pennies onto the roadside as she sets off to the church, and the children run to pick up as many of the pennies as they can. This is a tradition I remember well from my childhood days, and it seems to have died out in recent times. It brought back many happy memories, proving that the author did an excellent research job while writing the book.
The book has many emotions—sadness, shock, and humour, to name but a few—all of which got my heart racing. My emotions often felt like they were on a rollercoaster while reading the book. That told me just how good the writing and storytelling were.
I mentioned earlier that I couldn’t help but wonder how the story would end. When I finally got to the end, let’s just say that not only did it take me by surprise, but it was an ending that pleased me, even though I wanted to burst out crying. Russell Dean scored a bullseye with the ending.
‘Borrowed Time’ deserves a sequel and would also make a fantastic movie or TV drama. It’s unlike anything I’ve read or watched before.
If you’d like to add ‘Borrowed Time’ to your ‘To Read’ list, it’s available at the following places.
The first time I got my first short story collection edited, I was a nervous wreck.
I needn’t have been because having a fresh pair of eyes helped take my stories to a new level – a level that would have taken me many years to have reached, if at all.
Do you fear feedback?
Before publishing my second collection of short stories, I asked several friends to read my stories first and give me feedback. Then, I sent the book off for editing.
Of course, I didn’t take all the advice of my editor or those who read my stories before publication, but I’d often meet them halfway.
The initial editing process provided reassurance about receiving feedback. However, the subsequent editing rounds, along with feedback from beta readers, amplified this confidence. The fear of criticism no longer holds me back. What’s there to be afraid of? There’s nothing to fear. After all, why write if nobody will read it?
How To Treat Poor Feedback
A negative review or feedback may initially shake you, but it must never deter you from pursuing your writing. Constructive criticism, even if negative, has the potential to enhance the quality of your stories and writing, so don’t ignore it.
Of course, feedback comes in various shapes and sizes. Feedback such as ‘great story’ doesn’t hold much weight, making me question the purpose of such comments. I would much rather receive good, honest, constructive feedback than be told that my story was simply great.
Like boiled eggs and soldiers, writing and feedback come hand-in-hand. But where is this all going?
How Story Chat Started
In 2020, writer and blogger Marsha Ingrao asked me to write a story for Story Chat, a new feature she was in the process of creating where anyone can submit a story, anyone can read it, and anyone can give honest feedback about it. I jumped at the chance.
Fast forward to 2024, and Marsha’s blog’s Story Chat feature has achieved remarkable success. With over 20 authors and writers actively participating, a book highlighting the first two years of stories, along with reader feedback, has been published.
Story Chat – Online Literary Conversations
What’s Inside The Book?
The plethora of 22 stories encompasses a wide array of genres, each captivating in its own right.
What truly captivates me is the unwavering dedication of all the authors who not only poured their hearts into their stories but also embraced the invaluable feedback they received. It’s incredible how the majority of the feedback proved to be beneficial, guiding the authors towards refining their narratives. Ultimately, the decision to undertake a rewrite lay solely in the hands of the author, a testament to their artistic autonomy.
Not only do I have two stories in the Story Chat book, but I also have a few favourites in the book.
Did I Have A Favourite Story From The Book?
All the stories are immensely enjoyable and entertaining, but there’s one that truly captured my heart – ‘Dress for a Princess‘ by Wendy Fletcher. It’s an absolute gem of a story that had me on the edge of my seat, gasping for breath as I reached its spectacular ending. This is precisely what I crave in stories – an unexpected, brilliant twist that leaves me in awe.
Wendy Fletcher’s ability to weave such a captivating tale is a true testament to the power of storytelling. Wendy’s story is a prime example of the magic that unfolds within the world of short story literature, where authors can transport readers to captivating realms filled with intrigue and wonder in so few words.
All of the authors whose stories feature in the Story Chat – Online Literary Conversations book are prime examples of taking readers on entertaining journies that stay with you for a long time. They are also masters of short story writing.
Why not take a chance with Story Chat? Purchase the book or contact Marsha to contribute a story for the feature.
Do you enjoy reading or writing short stories? What advice can you give writers thinking of writing short stories? Is short story writing something you’re thinking about doing? Do you have any questions about ‘Story Chat’ or writing short stories? Leave them in the comments section.
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Continuing my series of true stories, I’m delighted to welcome Liesbet Collaert, who shares her story of how life changed the direction she was travelling.
If it feels right, can it be wrong?
Although Liesbet leads a different life to me (read and follow her blog to find out more) her true story is one I gasped at even though I’ve had similar experiences. It makes me believe in fate even more and why we find ourselves in certain situations for a real purpose.
Will her story bring back memories of a familiar position when you read it? Has fate played a part in your life?
***
Liesbet and Caesar arriving in San Francisco
San Francisco. A fascinating city I only know from movies and guidebooks. So close now! I can almost see the Golden Gate Bridge, smell the salty air of the bay, and feel the breeze in my light brown hair. The promise of a new adventure causes my ear-to-ear grin as I hop into our small camper to grab a CD of dEUS, my favorite Belgian band.
After crisscrossing the United States, Western Canada, and Alaska in our truck camper for the last year and a half, my boyfriend Karl, his dog Caesar, and I landed in California. Karl’s friend Nik, a DJ, had invited us to share his studio-apartment in Oakland, as a base to explore SF. Nik also rents out two apartments in his house.
CD in hand, I enter the yard again and stop dead in my tracks. Two gorgeous dogs with fluffy tails had run up to me. I smother them with cuddles and praise.
“Hi, I’m Mark. And these two are Kali, the white one, and Darwin, the grey one.”
Liesbet with Kali and Darwin
I look up from admiring the wagging furballs.
My eyes meet those of a tall, skinny, short-haired, and attractive man in the doorway of apartment #1.
“Hello. I’m Liesbet. My boyfriend and I are staying with Nik for a week to visit San Francisco. Our home on wheels is parked in front of the house.”
“Home on wheels? Why are you living in a camper?”
“It lets us travel around with our own bathroom and kitchen and plenty of storage and provides much more comfort and security than dingy hostels and a backpack,” I tell him with an unfaltering smile and raised voice; telltales of the excitement I always feel when elaborating on my pursuit of freedom.
“I detect an accent. Where are you from?” he asks, after I had described a handful of places I visited while backpacking for almost two years on the other side of the world.
“I’m from Belgium, but I haven’t been back in a while.”
Mark seems entranced, which encourages me to ramble on about my passion. After some time of telling stories and trading questions and answers, he exclaims, “That’s incredible! I need to travel and find myself a Belgian girlfriend!”
I blush. It dawns on me that we’d been chatting for a while.
“Do you know what time it is?” I ask. An hour has passed. I rush to Nik’s place next door.
“Where have you been?” Karl asks.
“Talking to a neighbor, the one with the big dogs. He seems like a nice guy.” I hand my CD to Nik, who is always eager to discover new music.
Our planned week in the Rockridge area of Oakland turns into four, as all of us become friends and Mark unintentionally draws me closer and closer. Karl encourages my contact with the neighbor. “Soon we’ll be out of here and it’s just you and me again,” he says. “Enjoy the company!”
I embrace Mark’s presence until I crave it.
One night, the Hollywood-moment arrives… our first kiss. An arm around my shoulders. A fluttering body. Touching of lips. Mutual desire. He loves me back!
We never allow anything more to happen. Mark is a realist. He knows I am leaving Nik’s place shortly and that I am in a serious relationship.
Our dreadful last evening together eventually arrives. We hug strongly and kiss tenderly.
“I’ll come pick you up wherever you are, whenever you’re ready to leave Karl.” Mark’s parting words sound sweet. Is he serious?
Mark and Liesbet
That night, I lie awake, heart racing. By morning, it’s time to pack up the camper and leave.
I exchange glances with Karl. His eyes beam with excitement about continuing our adventures; mine reflect trouble and sadness.
I take the plunge.
“I can’t be with you anymore. My attraction to Mark has grown too strong.” I sound more determined than I feel.
Shock.
Karl stares at me with intent. “We’re driving to Mexico. We both looked forward to this.”
Silence.
Did he not notice my enthusiasm to continue our overland journey had diminished these last weeks?
I swallow hard.
Can I really give all this up? Our past explorations on the road? The year and a half before that, where he tried so hard to fit into my Belgian life? How about my American visa that will run out if I don’t leave the country soon?
The consequences of my impulsiveness finally trigger some brain activity.
Karl continues, “I love you. Caesar and I will miss you so much.”
We both cry. Three years together is not nothing. I think about the good times we shared. Karl and his dog – and me, too – had been ecstatic when I showed up at his Maryland apartment, ready to roam North America. That was the summer of 2003. I had thrown a goodbye party at my parents’ house in Belgium and hopped on a plane. Little did I know I was never to return.
I remain quiet. My heart bleeds for him. Karl is a sensitive man who understands me and cares about me. We have the same passion: traveling the world on a budget. Yet,I crave more romance in a relationship…
Am I seriously giving up my travels for a man?
That would be a first. It’s usually the other way around. My gut knows how this predicament will end. My mind has nothing to add.
I face Karl and finally utter, “If I leave with you, I will want to come back here at some point.” It is the only conclusion I can muster.
I have fallen in love with another guy, the “guy next door.”
Mark with Kali and Darwin
“If that’s what you want,” Karl replies with a sigh, “then you should just stay.”
In the hours that follow we split the money from our communal account; I gather my belongings; and we discuss a contingency plan for the truck camper. I pet Caesar goodbye and give Karl one last, heartfelt embrace. Then, misty-eyed, I watch them drive away.
I close the door of Mark’s apartment behind me. Unlike other times when Karl and I returned his dogs after walking them with Caesar – today, I don’t leave.
My pile of clothes and gear clutters the corner of the bedroom. I settle on the bed with Kali and Darwin. My tears soak their fur within minutes. Mark has found his Belgian girl without having to travel; she appeared right on his doorstep. He probably thought he’d never see her again. Surprise!
Liesbet and Darwin
What will he say when he comes home from work?
What if he doesn’t want me here?
As usual, I don’t have a back-up plan.The rest of the afternoon, I cry. I feel bad for Karl.
I’m such a selfish bitch.
The front door opens. The dogs jump up and run towards their human. I stay behind in the bedroom.
“Hi, guys,” Mark greets Kali and Darwin with a sad voice. “I guess they’re gone, huh? You two don’t seem too excited to see me. What’s up?”
I walk into the hallway. My eyes sting.
Mark looks up.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His words crush me. I shuffle towards him. We hug. I don’t want to let go.
“I’m staying with you,” I whisper, as if he doesn’t have any say in this. Mark’s face relaxes into a smile. His grip tightens. I guess that means it’s okay.
***
Writer & Blogger Liesbet Collaert
Liesbet Collaert’s articles and photos have been published internationally.
Born in Belgium, she has been a nomad since 2003 with no plans to settle anytime soon. Her love of travel, diversity, and animals is reflected in her lifestyle choices of sailing, RVing, and house and pet sitting.
Liesbet calls herself a world citizen and currently lives “on the road” in North America with her husband and rescue dog. Follow her adventures at www.itsirie.com and www.roamingabout.com.
Liesbet’s true story is taken from her new book, Plunge.
Plunge
Tropical waters turn tumultuous in this travel memoir as a free-spirited woman jumps headfirst into a sailing adventure with a new man and his two dogs.
Join Liesbet as she faces a decision that sends her into a whirlwind of love, loss, and living in the moment. When she swaps life as she knows it for an uncertain future on a sailboat, she succumbs to seasickness and a growing desire to be alone.
Guided by impulsiveness and the joys of an alternative lifestyle, she must navigate personal storms, trouble with US immigration, adverse weather conditions, and doubts about her newfound love.
Does Liesbet find happiness? Will the dogs outlast the man? Or is this just another reality check on a dream to live at sea?
I’m delighted to welcome Graeme Cumming to my blog. Not only is Graeme somebody I class as a friend, but he’s also a very talented author, writer and blogger.
A guest blog post by Graeme Cumming
Graeme’s true story opened up my eyes to something I’d never thought about when it comes to passing on wisdom and mistakes I’ve made in my life to those younger than me. Read his story and let him know how you pass on words of wisdom to the younger generation.
Unlike Bryan Adams, my summer of ’69 had nothing to do with playing guitar. Having struggled to play triangle during a school concert, I think it’s safe to say my musical abilities wouldn’t have stretched that far.
When I chose the wrong moment to hit the triangle, I was even more mortified than I might otherwise have been because my dad was in the audience. He didn’t tend to turn up for school stuff because of work – not many dads did back then. So, when he was able to put in an appearance, I wanted to impress him. Clearly, I was to be disappointed and, at the time, I assumed the same was true for him. It’s funny the perceptions we have of our parents.
That summer, we took a rare holiday. I suppose they were rare because we didn’t have the money for them. In those days, it was common for the husband to go to work and the wife to stay home and look after the house and children. With one wage-earner, a holiday was a luxury. Even better, we had two weeks at Mablethorpe, not just one.
Fifty-one years later, I still have great memories from that holiday. Great, though not all of them filled with joy. Not at the time anyway.
There was an incident where my dad and I were playing football on the beach. Sport had always been his forte. He’d even been signed as a professional footballer back in the fifties – though a foot injury put paid to his sporting career within weeks. Nevertheless, even with the injury, he was a good all-rounder. In his time, he played cricket, tennis and squash to a high standard, and even walked away with a trophy on the one occasion he played golf.
In contrast, my own sporting skills have always bordered on the inept. So there was very little surprise when I kicked the ball in the wrong direction, sending it hurtling out into the sea. The tide was going out and, before long, it became apparent that the ball was going with it. My dad did go after it – inevitably, he was a bloody good swimmer, too!
Like most kids, my dad was my hero. I thought he was capable of anything. So, when he swam back to shore and I could still see the ball in the distance, it’s fair to say I was disappointed. In short, I wanted my ball back.
Standing at the water’s edge, he pointed to where it was, bobbing further and further away. I felt very let down that he’d come back empty-handed. And I let him know it, too.
“You can still get it.”
“Graeme, it’s too far out.”
It didn’t look that far to me, a point I expressed pretty sharply.
“The tide’s taking it,” he tried to explain.
Perhaps the concept of tides was too difficult for a six-year-old. It was another thirteen years before I experienced the terrifying pull of the sea as a Moroccan beach seemed to recede very rapidly from my line of sight. And the overwhelming sense of relief as I somehow managed to scrabble my way back to shallow waters.
To this day, I don’t know whether my dad had ever gone through a similar experience, but he knew what he was talking about. I didn’t.
Hands on hips, I looked up at him and, in the manner befitting a child who isn’t getting their own way, let him know just how disappointed I was in him. After all, this was my hero. He was my Simon Templar, my Robin Hood, my Tarzan.
“Aren’t you brave enough?” It was an idea that was, frankly, shocking to me.
Exhausted from swimming against the tide, and faced with a similarly unreasonable question, I’d like to think I could show the same level of patience he did (I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t).
“Sometimes, Graeme, there’s not much difference between being brave and being stupid.” He glanced out to the ball. “I’m not going to be stupid today.”
Naturally, this quite profound life lesson went straight over my head at the time. And yet, strangely, the incident and the words stuck with me, until one day they made sense.
I’d like to say my dad was not only a great sportsman, but a philosopher too. But I can’t. Like each and every one of us, he was a flawed individual, and over the years I learnt as much from his mistakes as I did his wise words. And I’ve learnt even more from my own mistakes, especially from my youthful certainty that I was right, that I was invincible, that I would be my own hero. But that’s part of growing up.
Now, as a father myself, I see my children making their own mistakes, and hoping they’ll learn from them too. I’ve shared my words of wisdom, and hope they’ll remember some of them when the time is right. Sometimes those words have been dressed up in stories – because sometimes it’s easier to learn when you’re being entertained.
And I do like to tell stories.
Graeme Cumming
Graeme Cumming lives in Robin Hood country. He has wide and varied tastes when it comes to fiction so he’s conscious that his thrillers can cross into territories including horror, fantasy and science fiction as well as more traditional arenas.
When not writing, Graeme is an enthusiastic sailor (and, by default, swimmer), and enjoys off-road cycling and walking. He is currently Education Director at Sheffield Speakers Club. Oh yes, and he reads (a lot) and loves the cinema.
We may not have to introduce ourselves to some of you, but we’re Toby and Austin, two Cardigan Welsh Corgis owned by author Hugh W. Roberts and his partner, John.
Austin (left) and Toby
Why are we famous?
We had no idea that we’d be appearing as characters in one of the stories in Hugh’s book, More Glimpses. He didn’t even ask our permission to use us in the story, although we suppose we have to take into account that Hugh and John feed us, walk us, groom us, look after us, and keep us out of danger. Well, we say danger, but that’s not always the case.
What could possibly go wrong in a sleepy little village?
Picture this: A sleepy little village in the heart of Dorset, England, on a few sunny days in mid-June. The village may look quaint and as if nobody dared think about committing murder, but nobody knows what goes on behind closed doors, do they?
Those doors can hide all kinds of dark secrets, even more so if you see the door handle or letterbox flap moving frantically while walking past. Is something trying to get out or, even worse, something you can’t see trying to get in?
What you shouldn’t do when you discover murder has taken place.
We found ourselves deep in a murder mystery from the day we arrived in Evershot. All you humans seem to do is panic when you hear the news of a local murder because you think you could end up as the next victim. Silly thoughts start entering your minds, like: “Is it safe to go out after dark?” or “Does rubbing salt into an arctic white carpet remove blood-red wine stains?”
Because we have a better sense of smell and sound than you humans do, you may think we had an advantage in solving the case. But you humans have a far better sense of sight than we. Use your eyes and look for those red herrings when reading ‘Murder in Evershot‘ because, like all good murder mysteries, they are there. Sure, we used our noses and ears to solve this case, but not every smell or sound was what we expected.
Did anyone say treats?
Did we really solve a murder?
You’ll have to read the story to find out how the murder(s) were solved, but if you still don’t know when you’ve finished reading it, then make an appointment with us as the first client of Private Investigators Toby and Austin (Cardigan Welsh Corgis), Bureau of solving the unknown and missing dog treats. However, we’d much rather play chase with each other.
Toby and Austin play
Story 7: Murder In Evershot
Genre: Murder/Mystery
Set in the sleepy English village of Evershot, John, Toby, Austin, and Hugh find themselves in grave danger when several murders take place. Can they find a well-known detective who lives in the village and ask for her help in solving the murders before the murderer finds them?
If you’d like to meet more characters from More Glimpses, click here to meet Jane Collins from the story The Jump, and here to meet the strange ‘being’ from the story The Man In The Television.
This post was written in response to this week’s theme of ‘A Dog’s Life‘, for the Sunday Stills challenge hosted by Terri Webster Schrandt.
All photos in this post are copyrighted by Hugh W. Roberts
Hugh's Views & News 