A Life in Waiting
By Santa Montefiore
Rose was in the garden when the telephone rang. Her dog, Smut, lay sleeping in the spring sunshine for he was old like she was and too stiff to frolic about the bushes. He slept on as his mistress put down her trowel and walked inside. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as she made her way to the kitchen. With an intuitive sense of doom she picked up the receiver. “Hello?” There was a brief pause then the low resonance of a voice she recognised from long ago. More...
Good Grace
By Santa Montefiore
It was a beautiful day for the funeral. Grace stood by the window looking down onto the frosty garden that glittered beneath a watery blue sky. Harry deserved nothing less, she thought, visualising her husband’s rugged face, the face of a man who had toiled the land for nearly fifty years. He had been handsome, too handsome for his own good, she mused, remembering the women who had fluttered in and out of his life like summer butterflies. More...
Lessons in Love
By Santa Montefiore
It had been four months now since Lorenzo Maschioletti had arrived in Stanbury. How things had changed. Leo wondered whether it was because people knew. Perhaps they were jealous. But certainly her friends treated her differently. She sat in the café, hunched over a cup of cold coffee and watched the drizzle floating on the wind outside the window. More...
Spanish Silk
By Santa Montefiore
“I have a very special gift for you, mi amor,” he said. His rough hands made her skin bristle and the scent of his body, sweat mingled with the warm smell of horses, invaded her nostrils and turned her blood into honey. But it was his voice that had melted her modesty. More...
The Fortune Teller
By Santa Montefiore
“I’ll steal away in the dark like a common whore.” She breathed, running a long nail down his torso. Then she laughed. But her laughter was uneasy. It no longer felt appropriate to make light of their affair. It had been too long and her lover was restless for an answer. More...
The Biggest Shell on the Beach
By Santa Montefiore
Jane Berry was ordinary. Even her name was ordinary. At thirty-seven, with long brown hair, a nose sprinkled with freckles and pale, English skin, she was unremarkable. She lived by the sea in the Cornish town of Pendrift, in a white house with a grey slate roof, the same as any other. More...
Loquacious Parrot
By Santa Montefiore
It all started and ended with Doña Angelina’s parrot. If it hadn’t been for the hot Chilean weather that inspired Clara to walk to work rather than sweat in an overcrowded bus she would never have run into it. As it happened she had taken the road that ran along side the Pacific, smiling in the sunshine, her gaze lost somewhere between the hazy blue horizon and the bright images of her own daydreams. More...
A Woman of Mystery
By Santa Montefiore
When Celestia Somersby moved into Old Lodge, the sleepy, insular village of Westcotton was roused to wakefulness by a blazing curiosity. It wasn’t that they hadn’t witnessed the arrival of strangers, though, being a small, remote town on the Devonshire coast there was little to entice people, except the odd few who came for the peace; it was because Celestia Somersby was a woman of mystery. More...
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