I hide in the downstairs loo and put on eyeliner. It makes my grey eyes look smoky and defined, covering up the fact I’ve been crying. I think make-up suits me, but Dad disagrees. He thinks make-up is just for girls.

As Special Agent in Charge of this District, my years following leads and writing investigative reports were behind me. Now, one part of my job is delivering this investigative file to the D.A.

I’m actually looking forward to staying the night in an old castle.” Courtney glanced up the High Street. “I was told about the beauty of Broadway and I have to say, they were right. It certainly does take your breath away.”

The old farmhouse had idled on the market ever since the previous owners had died in a freak fire. Investigators had suspected arson but never uncovered evidence.

The dinner invitation was totally unexpected since Josiah Gorgas had not heard from his high school and college buddy Austin Ervin in well over a decade.

“Are you sure you’re ready, Melvin?” She paused. “What happened the last time wasn’t your fault.”

“We could go to Principle Martin’s office right now. An offense like this would lead to a week suspension at best. Pick up the pen and write.” I sighed and wrote, “Montgomery Sanchez. May 29th, 2005.”

The forest looked ethereal in the light from the moon overhead. Ghostly, eldritch, like Dave had stepped into another world. The branches swayed with a slight breeze, and the leaves rustled out a mellifluous harmony.

That afternoon, she still believed that her father had not meant what he had done. Once the black cloud had lifted, as it always did, he would come to his senses and beg Mum’s forgiveness.

I like the tennis courts 'cause they're green, red, and white, but the truth is—I hate tennis.

My ex-girlfriend is there when I get home from work. I find her sitting on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of black lacy knickers and one of my old shirts, rolling a fag in front of the TV.

It had been a week since I'd last left the house. I'd barely made it back last time.

As a rule, the Bishop was more in than out. Consequently the size, the airiness, and the aggressive modernity of the room made quite an impression on him. Deacon Sue realised this from the way he quietly looked around and nodded.

After such a pleasant stay at the conference in New Mexico, where his talks had gone well, and everyone had been so kind, it was distinctly uninspiring to fly home to a wife whose love for him had long been in doubt.

Crib Goch is the hardest route up Snowden, it’s classed as a grade one scramble, which means that you can’t, or shouldn’t, do it in weekend sneakers, although I’ve seen worse.