Showing results by narrator "Mason" in All Categories

All through August Abigail looked out for the ship, counting the masts on each vessel and reading their names before they reached the harbour.

My friends raved about the view from my study. Tristram said, 'How lucky you are! I could look at it forever.' He often returned to the window to watch the changes that mark the progress of each day: the gradual greening of the grass, light moving over the fields, a larger flock of crows.

The Robinsons arrived late in the evening; he in black tie and she in a long cocktail dress of sheer red silk.

As soon as Simone set foot on the path through the heather, her spirits began to rise.

Edward Clarke was staring out of the window of his bookshop, a cigarette held delicately between his long, thin fingers, his unshaven chin slightly upraised.

The sand shimmered and sparkled under the midday sun. Millicent wriggled her toes in her sandals and looked up at Fabian as he addressed the party of tourists. Behind them, the calm blue sea rippled rhythmically over the beach.

Tonya matched her pace to that of the sedately departing steam train. She opened the last door of the last carriage with the nonchalance of a seasoned commuter and stepped aboard.

Several days had passed since the incident and the villagers were still coming to terms with the fact that their young people would have to lie low for a while. Mike's two teenage daughters were caught up in it and he informed them that they would be grounded for the next month.

Dusk is some way off and I stand at the bar, waiting to be served. I've been here often on my way home from work - It's half-empty on early summer evenings, and the staff are efficient and not averse to passing the time in conversation.

"Mrs. Taylor?" The greeting came from a woman sitting in a ponderous wingback chair by the front door. Because of the paperwork on her lap she could not immediately stand.

The Birdcage was one of the surprisingly large number of establishments listed in directories of the most haunted pubs of England. It acquired its name during the Napoleonic Wars, when it was a jail for captured French soldiers.

Hannah held the bronze statuette up to the light. It was small, fitting easily in her hand. She was pretty sure that it was the likeness of a classical god, and it was a fairly standard representation, except for the eyes, the whites of which had been inlaid with ivory, while the pupils were little chips of verdigrised bronze.

The feasting is done and Akui has lit the great fire. See how the flames crackle through the brushwood and sparks fly up into the darkness! Soon the timber will burn and warm us through the night and into the dawn.

Saskia could see that the ice near the shore was several centimetres thick. Pieter had told her that the lake never froze over entirely, that there was always an expanse of water at the centre which remained liquid.

Decision-making is more than just choosing between options. Awaken the remarkable decision maker within you, and make more strategic, creative, and original choices. Decision-Making Done is your wake-up call and makes the "how" part easy. Looking for the perfect gift for the people you care about? This book offers practical insights that can be easily implemented, making it an ideal choice.

I made quite an exhibition of myself. I'm usually so shy I fade into the background, take my place at the end of the queue, stand in the corner of the room watching what other people do.

The scent of lilac wafted across the garden. Melissa raised her head and watched as the zephyr lifted the skirts of the columbines and ruffled the blowsy peonies. The murmur of the bees did its best to lull her back into lethargy, but it was time to rouse herself: she had been lying in the sun too long.

A collection of eight short stories from American author, journalist, and social activist Jack London. Written during his 'Klondike' period, the title story 'Love of Life' follows the trek of a prospector across the Canadian tundra.

15th February Morning: I have been looking forward to being here so much and now it hardly seems real. The view from my bedroom window is of fields and sheep and a hill that is almost a mountain.

I'm good at exactly two things: motocross racing and casual sex. Or I was good at the second one until I met Lucy Salcido. She's a reporter for MotoRacer magazine, and she's been "embedded" with my team ever since I came out of nowhere to lead the championship series this year. Having her around all the time has definitely put a crimp in my style. It's tough to pick up a new girl after every race when Lucy's there, watching me. Judging me. And it doesn't help that she's the girl I really want.