Their presence feels like a bad omen and a chill runs down my spine. I glance up at the dark clouds that gather overhead. It’s busier here than I expected, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Their movements are stilted and disorderly as their indecisive eyes move from one stall to another. I can already make out the brightly coloured canopies of market stalls and throngs of people moving between them at the end of the alley. It’s all I can think as I approach the busy market square. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.įor Phoebs, everyone deserves a beautiful best friend like you. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.Īll rights reserved. Sign up for Alexandra’s mailing list to receive updates about her books:
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