Archive for February 2018
Gone
I don’t believe in ghosts. I’ll tell you that right out. Woo-woo on the Internet? Spirit hunters on TV? It’s all a load of bullhockey. When you’re gone, you’re gone. My wife, now she’s another story. Martha’s the kind of person who looks for the Virgin Mary in her French toast. There’s nothing that woman…
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It was after midnight when my ex-husband pounded on my door. I shouldn’t have answered. I know that. But I’ve always been an idiot where he was concerned. I opened the door and stared. Torn shirt, tie flung over one shoulder, face covered with cuts and scratches. “L-lauren.” Greg braced a forearm on the door…
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