Now eighteen, Lorna Cunningham is eagerly awaiting the day when she can leave the Newcastle house in which she's known only heartache. The Arabian ancestry of the father she has never known has meant that she has been nothing more than an unwelcome guest in her grandmother's home, forced to take second place to her spoilt cousin, Rose, who has wanted for neither love nor material comforts.Lorna takes comfort from her growing friendship with bookseller Edwin Randall, who shares her love of reading and inspires her with his passion to improve the terrible conditions of the Newcastle slums. But their relationship is overshadowed by Lorna's infatuation with the handsome and charismatic Maurice Haldane - the man Rose is determined she herself will marry and who has the power to change all their lives for ever...

    She's sent to an orphanage in Blackpool, but the master has an eye for a pretty young lass. Grace won't be his victim, so she runs, destitute, into the night. In Blackpool, she finds a home with the kindly Sheila and Peggy - and meets a lovely airman. But it's 1938, and war is on the horizon. Will Grace ever find the happiness and home she deserves?

    She’s been tucked away on Lantern Beach for weeks, waiting to testify against a deadly gang, and is settling in to a new life she wants to last forever.When she thinks she spots someone malevolent from her past, panic swells inside her. If an enemy has found her, Cassidy won’t be the only one who’s a target. Everyone she’s come to love will also be at risk. Dangerous waters threaten to pull her into an overpowering chasm she may never escape. Can Cassidy survive what lies ahead? Or has the tide fatally turned against her? Perilous Riptide Just when the current seems safer, an unseen danger emerges and threatens to destroy everything. When Cassidy Livingston finds a journal hidden deep in the recesses of her ice cream truck, her curiosity kicks into high gear. Islanders suspect that Elsa, the journal’s owner, didn’t die accidentally. Her final entry indicates their suspicions might be correct and that what Elsa observed on her final night may have led to her demise.Against the advice of Ty Chambers, her former Navy SEAL boyfriend, Cassidy taps into her detective skills and hunts for answers. But her search only leads to a skeletal body and trouble for both of them. As helplessness threatens to drown her, Cassidy is desperate to turn back time.Can Cassidy find what she needs to navigate the perilous situation? Or will the riptide surrounding her threaten everyone and everything Cassidy loves? Deadly Undertow The current’s fatal pull is powerful, but so is one detective’s will to live. When someone from Cassidy Livingston’s past shows up on Lantern Beach and warns her of impending peril, opposing currents collide, threatening to drag her under. Running would be easy. But leaving would break her heart.Cassidy must decipher between the truth and lies, between reality and deception. Even more importantly, she must decide whom to trust and whom to fear. Her life depends on it. As danger rises and answers surface, everything Cassidy thought she knew is tested.In order to survive, Cassidy must take drastic measures and end the battle against the ruthless gang DH-7 once and for all. But if her final mission fails, the consequences will be as deadly as the raging undertow.

    Then he mowed the lawn (again) and knew his life was over. His wife was happy doing her crosswords, but Stanley felt like an old age pensioner with nothing to look forward to apart from sitting in his chair, watching daytime TV, and walking his dog, Roobarb. On a whim, after yet another wet walk with his overweight pooch, he put an advert in the corner shop window: Old Age Pensioner Investigations. No job too big, or small. From murder to missing cats, Detective Stanley can solve it all. He went home, got told off for letting Roobarb get mud on the lino, stared at Custard the cat who stole the only biscuit he was allowed a day (he was putting on weight), and fell asleep in his chair. Then the doorbell rang. He had a case. The old age private eye was in business. Now all he had to do was actually solve a murder. Oh, and get a pad, and a pen, and maybe detectives had cars too, and secretaries, and offices... He wasn't bored any more, that was the main thing. Plus the murder mystery, of course.

     It is the day before Empire Day – 4th July - the day each year when the British Empire marks the brutal crushing of the rebellion dignified by the treachery of the fifty-six delegates to the Continental Congress who were so foolhardy as to sign the infamous Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia on that day of infamy in 1776. It is nearly two hundred years since George Washington was killed and his Continental Army was destroyed in the Battle of Long Island and now New England, that most quintessentially loyal and ‘English’ imperial fiefdom – at least in the original, or ‘First Thirteen’ colonies - is about to celebrate its devotion to the Crown and the Old Country, of which it still views, in the main, as the ‘mother country’. Yet all is not roses. Since 1776 in a world of empires the British Empire has grown and prospered until now, it stands alone as the ultimate arbiter of global war and peace. The Royal Navy has enforced the global Pax Britannia for over a century since the World War of the 1860s established a lasting but increasingly tenuous ‘peace’ between the great powers. Nonetheless, while elsewhere the Empire may be creaking at the seams, struggling to come to terms with a growing desire for self-determination; thus far the Pax Britannica has survived – buttressed by the commercial and industrial powerhouse of New England stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific North West - intact for all that barely a year goes by without the outbreak of another small, colonial war somewhere... This said, the British ‘Imperial System’ remains the envy of its friends and enemies alike and nowhere has it been so successful as in North America, where peace and prosperity has ruled in the vast Canadian dominions and the twenty-nine old and recent colonies of the Commonwealth of New England for the best part of two centuries. In Whitehall every British government in living memory has complacently based its ‘American Policy’ on the one immutable, unchanging fact of New England politics; that the First Thirteen colonies will never agree with each other about anything, let alone that the sixteen ‘Johnny-come-lately’ new (that is, post-1776) colonies, protectorates, territories and possessions which comprise half the population and eight-tenths of the land area of New England, should ever have any say in their affairs! New England is a part of England and always will be because, axiomatically, it will never unite in a continental union. Notwithstanding, in the British body politic the myths and legends of that first late eighteenth-century rebellion in the New World still touches a raw nerve in the old country, much as in former epochs memories of Jacobin revolts, Oliver Cromwell and the Civil War still harry old deep-seated scars in the national psyche. Empire Day might not have originally been conceived as a celebration of the saving of the first British Empire and but as time has gone by it has come to symbolise the one, ineluctable truth about the Empire: that New England is the rock upon which all else stands, an empire within an empire that is greater than the sum of all the other parts of the great imperium ruled from London. In past times a troubling question has been whispered in the corridors of power in London: what would happen to the Empire – and the Pax Britannica – if the British hold on New England was ever to be loosened? Generations of British politicians have always known that if the question was ever to be asked again in earnest it has but one answer.