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  • Format: ePub

Heather Mondan was by all accounts a sensible young woman who was employed as the junior librarian at a local college. However, the job meant she had to move into new accommodation, and luckily found a small flat in a large house but needed to sublet in order to pay the rent. It was all perfectly fine with the landlord, and a student at college called Janice, who needed a place to stay eagerly took up the spare room.
The room was formally a parlour, and was right next to Heather's bit of the house. But the enterprising landlord put a bed and tv in it to squeeze a few more pounds out of the
…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Heather Mondan was by all accounts a sensible young woman who was employed as the junior librarian at a local college. However, the job meant she had to move into new accommodation, and luckily found a small flat in a large house but needed to sublet in order to pay the rent. It was all perfectly fine with the landlord, and a student at college called Janice, who needed a place to stay eagerly took up the spare room.

The room was formally a parlour, and was right next to Heather's bit of the house. But the enterprising landlord put a bed and tv in it to squeeze a few more pounds out of the situation. The landlord was also very security conscious, a sentiment shared by Heather who made sure her new tenant got the message too. Locking doors, windows and gates was crucial when going out or coming in. Opportunistic burglars were always on the lookout for an open window or a front or back door on a jar.

But not all young students with their heads into their studies and boyfriends are always mindful of such prosaic things. Janice, who now occupied the parlour was just a tad bit careless if not outright thoughtless. In fact, it was a cause for concern for Heather whose sense of home security and peace of mind was compromised by her tenant's slightly irresponsible behaviour.

Janice would come in at funny hours, she wouldn't always lock the doors, she was messy, she would come home drunk, and she wasn't above being outspoken, if not rude. She was not the dream tenant by any means. However, bit by bit she was yielding to Heather's demands.

By contrast, for Heather at work, there was the sudden and unexpected promise of romance which surprised her. Indeed, she couldn't wait to tell her mother about it. For a moment, life was looking good. To Heather it seemed that things could work out and get ironed out. She was optimistic. But then, typically for her, the past had to rear its ugly head again and get in the way of a normal life. That unfortunate seed in Heather's soul began to sprout once more and there was no telling what was going to happen next.


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Autorenporträt
HERBERT HOWARD JONES grew up in Notting Hill, London in the sixties. He went to a boarding school in Norfolk and then local schools including Sloane School where crime writer John Creasy attended near the King's Road. When he left school he got numerous jobs, including as a porter at the BBC London, working as a jewellery assembler in a factory in Hatton Garden and also in a number of roles at a showbiz solicitor's office where he was a trainee legal executive and ran errands for a few of the British movie and music names of the time.

He is a creative spirit who also likes dabbling in music and art himself. When he was in the jewellery business he personally made over ten thousand 14 carat gold gate bracelets which was a great learning experience for him. However, he was more interested in media and always wanted to write suspense books with a melodramatic element and so spent years reading them and working on various projects. He is also interested in romantic and fantasy fiction. And despite being a Catholic he is interested in New Age literature, mythology and metaphysics.

But meeting people has always inspired him the most and he has had the good fortune to meet quite a few interesting people. He was personally friends with horror writer, Denis Wheatley's housekeeper when she lived in Blackheath, and knew poet John Pudney who lived nearby before he passed. One of the most interesting people that he met was the daughter of the Captain of the Titanic with whom he had tea in her cottage up in Suffolk. Miss Smith was a lady with a big personality and a very interesting home. She was surrounded with Titanic memorabilia wherever you looked. Jones was only a boy at the time and didn't appreciate the significance of all this stuff, but regrets not quizzing her on the catastrophic event which has forever featured large in shipping folklore!

PERSONAL MESSAGE:

I WANT TO EXPRESS my gratitude to readers who have bothered to download my books. I put a lot of effort into them and also design my own covers, and so it is a wonderful reward to get a download. Every author on this platform will be grateful for them because writing can be a lonely and thankless task. It is only the reader who makes it all worth while, and so thanks very much again.
HHJ