The Lessons Read online
Page 26
He took Jess’s hand and pressed the back of it to his lips.
Mark held my hand through the funeral like there was no other thing in the world he knew for certain. He threaded his fingers through mine and gripped so that he could lean into me. His feet did not know how to walk. His toes pointed in. He was lamed.
There were crowds there. They washed around us like the tide, sweeping in and out, impersonal in their scale. Mark clearly did not know a great number of the people who approached and pressed his hand between theirs and told him they were so sorry, so very sorry. And some of them were sincere, of this I am perfectly certain. But one or two were there for quite different reasons. At one point, a man turned from us and said distinctly, ‘That’s Mark Winters, I know, but where’s cousin Tom? I want a word with him; I’ve some business he’d be interested in.’ And a woman, seeing Mark’s mother behind her veil, turned to her companion and said, ‘Isabella’s looking old, do you see?’ And I would not have believed, had I not been there, that such crassness was possible. But for some people nothing that happens to someone like Mark can ever be real. It is Mark’s money, his shining golden armour. They make his very essence appear unreal. This, too, is Mark’s problem: the details of his life are so dazzling that most people cannot see past them. His false exterior is so grand that no one can quite understand, that even I can sometimes scarcely grasp, that he is real, there, behind the trappings.
I don’t know who had chosen the priest. He was a little man; not imposing, like Father Hugh. He was small and mostly bald, with wispy tufts of hair at the sides of his head and for all I knew he had never met Daisy and never seen the sweetness of her, never known the delight she took in blowing bubbles into her milk through a straw. He stood before the small coffin, in the full and buzzing church, robed in his authority, and said, ‘This life is but a garment that we wear for a little time.’ And slowly but insistently silence spread throughout the church. Because we wanted sense, that day.
He said, ‘Grief is a journey which, if we undertake it, can bring us closer to God.’ And he said, ‘The death of little Daisy may cause us to ask if God is really here, if He is indeed real. How could a loving God, a just God, a merciful God allow such a terrible thing to happen?’ He paused. ‘If there is no God, then these things are truly meaningless. And for some, that meaningless life is enough. But there are those of us who look at this world, and its mystery and beauty – at the beauty of Daisy’s life, however brief – and cannot accept that it is all for nothing. There is meaning even here, if we can see it. We trust in the promise of the Cross and know that –’ and here he read from the lesson – ‘ “now we see as through a glass, darkly; but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part, then I will know fully.”
‘We cannot know the purposes of God. But if life has any meaning then this too has meaning. And it must. It is simply impossible that it does not. We trust in the resurrection to eternal life. And we know that the living God can speak through the smallest of us, the least of us. He speaks to us now through the short life of Daisy. We know that her precious life was full of joy and significance. We must trust that the best of her continues. God has even now enfolded Daisy in His arms. She has gone home to be with Him who waits for all of us.’ And here the man’s voice broke. ‘ “While we are at home with the body, we are away from the Lord.” ’
Mark was sobbing then, silently. And as the tears poured down his face he turned and put his lips close to my ear and he said, quite clearly, ‘All I want now is to be with her. Everything in this world is broken. Everything here in this world is wrong. It is not our home.’
I grasped his hand very tightly and I thought, then this is what I am here for. Here, to save him from this. To wed him to the earth. I had not yet thought of what might come next for me, after this cracking open of the ground beneath our feet, but it became clear to me that whatever happened, I could not leave him.
Mark tried to speak to Nicola after the funeral – went up to her, murmured a few words. She listened, stony-faced. He spoke a little more, gesticulating as he always did when he was nervous or unhappy. He reached for her hand. She pulled away, her face suddenly angry. Or perhaps simply desperate, for I saw tears starting in her eyes. She spoke a few words to him. He blinked and swallowed. She turned her back on him and walked towards the roadside, where Simon and the family were waiting.
Out of the massed ranks of the family, only one figure separated itself and walked towards us. It was Leo, awkward in his black suit. He must have been eleven or twelve by then? He had shot up like a leggy plant, tall and skinny, very unlike the little boy he had been. Mark flinched when he saw him. His hand went up to his forehead, to the little crescent-shaped scar half-hidden at his hairline.
Leo smiled. I think it was the first smile we’d seen that day.
He stuck out his hand and said, ‘I’m sorry, Mark, I’m so sorry,’ as though the whole thing had been his fault.
I think Mark barely even noticed who was speaking to him. He stared at Nicola until the car drove up and she was taken away from him as surely as if she had sunk to the bottom of the ocean.
Emmanuella came back to London with us, sitting in the back of the car with Mark while Jess and I shared the driving. Jess’s father had given Mark a sedative immediately after the funeral. He lolled on the back seat quietly, sometimes falling asleep, waking a little and then dozing off again.
We brought him into the flat and he sat on the sofa next to me, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. We did not talk a great deal. There was nothing to say. Mark was woozy, confused, his eyes focusing and defocusing.
After a little while I said, ‘Mark, we should get you to bed.’
And he leaned over and kissed me, hard, on the mouth, pushing his body into mine, rubbing his thumb at the nape of my neck. It was a lover’s kiss, not a friend’s or even an attempt at seduction. It was a kiss of intimacy. I jumped away, stood up, took a few paces back from the couch. I looked around the room. Emmanuella was smiling slightly, a confused smile as though she hadn’t quite understood a joke. Jess’s face was unreadable, quietly calm.
Mark smiled at me, wrinkling his nose. ‘C’mon then, lover. Let’s go to bed.’
Jess said, ‘Can I talk to you for a moment, James?’
I followed her out into the hall.
In the darkened passage I said, trying to bring a laugh into my voice, ‘I don’t know what that was about. It’s just, it must be Mark thinking that I’m … well, you know Mark.’
Jess nodded slowly. I barrelled on.
‘God knows what that cocktail of drugs has done to him. He’s so confused he doesn’t know where he is.’
Jess nodded again. She pursed her lips. I tried to say something else but she held up a hand.
She said, ‘He’s in pain, James. You should go to him. Be with him tonight.’
I didn’t understand. I said, ‘He’s confused. He doesn’t really want me. Maybe Emmanuella? Or you, maybe you could talk to him.’
An odd expression flickered across her face then – almost amusement, almost affection. I still think of that sometimes, trying, as always, to understand her. In her way, she was always more opaque to me than even Mark.
She said, ‘James. You should sleep in the spare bed with Mark tonight. You should be with him. He needs you.’
It’s a strange thing to say, but I think I loved her more in that moment than I’d ever done before, and I had loved her a great deal. It wasn’t gratitude, or guilt, simply a fleeting understanding of what she was, this short, slight woman standing in a darkened hallway, wearing jogging bottoms and an old jumper, with her hands on her hips and peeling eczema scars on her arms. I couldn’t think, then, why I’d ever wanted anyone but her, how she could ever have seemed nothing to me when, so clearly, she was everything.
‘Jess,’ I said, wanting to express all of these things.
She shook her head.
‘Not tonight. I’m tired. You’re tired. We can
talk about it in the morning.’ She looked at me, her eyes unreadable. ‘It’s all right. I’m OK.’
And she turned and walked down the hall away from me.
SECTION 3
The Lessons
23
I don’t believe that Jess ever asked me to stay. A few days after the funeral, I went with Mark to arrange some matters in Dorblish and she did not object. After we returned to London, I stayed at his flat and she did not beg me to come home. The thing was settled before we had discussed it at all. I was reminded of the way we had become a couple, no fuss and no awkwardness. In the same way now our lives were unpicked without mess, simply and cleanly.
I tried to talk to her but she said, ‘He needs you more than I do.’
And I could not disagree with this. Over the spring, Mark began to heal physically – the scars on his arms faded, the cuts on his chest knitted together – but mentally he was worse than ever. There was no sign of improvement. He could not bear to be alone. He woke me repeatedly most nights, imagining monsters and spirits come to punish him.
And I? I remembered several things. I remembered how I had longed for Daisy to be washed away before she began. I remembered how Mark and I had argued the night she died. And I remembered, most of all, Mark. He is the thing I have never been able to loose myself from. And now, for the first time, he wanted me as I wanted him – to be always near me, always close, holding one another. I did not think then of the things I have subsequently come to consider. I knew that I loved him and I knew that, at last, he needed me.
Can I confess this too? It is the worst thing yet, in my litany. It is the thing of which I am most ashamed and which has made me learn the lesson that Mark has always known: that we are not, in essence, good. It is this: I was pleased. Not that Daisy was gone, not that. But pleased because at last Mark needed me. At last, I was not to be thrown away or beckoned with a gesture. I had wanted this; there was a triumph to it. My love had never been enough without his pain.
There was a moment, I think, a teetering point when I doubted what I should do. It was just at the end of the school holidays. I was due to return to the school where I worked. I explained this to Mark and he frowned at me, puzzled.
‘I don’t understand.’ He shook his head. ‘Just tell them you won’t be coming back. I can pay for a supply teacher or whatever.’
It had occurred to me, but only dimly, that such things were possible. Mark took it for granted that I would not work now. He gave me signing power for one of his accounts. I looked at the sum of money sitting in the current account and was astonished.
‘There’s enough here to buy a house, Mark. A couple of houses. It should be somewhere it can earn interest.’
He shrugged.
‘I think that is interest. From something else. I’m not sure. There’s a man in the City who deals with it. You can talk to him if you like.’
I took the dog-eared card he gave me from a private bank in London but never called the number. It seemed impertinent. I took what was provided and was grateful. The anger of my headmaster at the late notice of my departure flowed over me and fell away. I thought of it for a day or two and then lost it forever. I began to appreciate what money can provide: a waterproof imperviousness to the demands of others.
We stayed in the Islington flat for a while, and left London in the early autumn, just as the days began to be touched with a moist coolness and the smell of rot. At first, we tried to go back to the house in Oxford, but it didn’t take. The rooms were empty without the six of us to fill them, and the memory of Daisy was everywhere she’d crawled and toddled and fallen on the day we graduated. Mark’s nightmares grew worse there, the dreams of Daisy sometimes infecting his waking hours to such an extent that he thought he saw her at every turn. And Oxford is so full of youth and joy. We could not be at home there.
We went on. The limits of Mark’s territory seemed infinite. We spent a few weeks in a manoir in Normandy which had been owned by his father’s brother but he thought had now passed to him, ‘or as good as, anyway’. My French is extremely imperfect, but the housekeeper seemed to be reminiscing about his mother as a young girl. I mentioned this to Mark but he had no explanation.
In January, the fogs fell over the orchards and Mark became restless. He talked of Brazil, of Bangalore and of Sydney. It was then that we hit upon San Ceterino, the villa here in the heel of Italy which he and Nicola had never visited. We had intended it to be just a way point, a stopping place on a journey which at the time we thought might bring us back to England one day. Perhaps two years of recuperation and then a return. But we have stayed, and stayed, and stayed. It is not that the house or the town has won us with its charms. I believe it is partly the squalor which appeals to Mark, the slight degradation of a town whose once-busy port has all but closed and whose major tourist attraction is a crumbling medieval monastery with a mildly picturesque campanile.
We came to it in the most unattractive part of winter, when the sky was mould-grey and the grounds were so sodden with water that our shoes were half sucked off our feet as we walked the grounds. The beds were all mildewed, speckled and stinking. On the first night, we slept wrapped in rugs on the summer-house sofas, lighting our way with the candles we’d found in crates in an outhouse. We made love that night. As we were falling asleep, he clutched at my shoulders convulsively and whispered, I thought, ‘I love you.’ It was the first time he had said such a thing.
I whispered, in the chill dark, ‘What did you say?’
‘Hmm?’ he said. ‘What?’
The next day, his credit card conjured new beds and furniture, television sets, stereos and extravagant quantities of groceries. Money smooths over all possibility of adventure.
It was the cathedral, I think, which sealed it. In our first week here we walked down to the town and explored its cascading hillside of shops and houses and its dead dock, gazed up at its famous bell tower, which neither of us had the heart to climb. The Cattedrale di San Ceterino is too large for the town, which has shrunk in recent years. It is old and dark, furnished and panelled in burnished brown wood. It holds a relic of San Ceterino, it is said; the bones of one finger, covered by glass, next to a statue of the saint. One portion of the case is open, just enough for the faithful to touch their finger, or their lips, to one knuckle bone. The brass there is smooth and shiny, the bone itself worn to a brown gloss by the centuries of humanity who have approached, asking for favour, for blessing, for release from the various miseries of human life.
Mark touched his lips to the stained bone. I stood back and looked at the figure of Jesus on the Cross that hovered above us. His back was twisted. His mouth gaped in a silent scream. And I thought, oh, I see. At last I see. It’s not about the visible suffering. Greater suffering than this can of course be imagined. It is about the celebration. Even the perfect life of God on earth culminates in suffering. We don’t have to clothe ourselves in imaginary woe. Each of us, if we live long enough, will have material for our own suit of sorrow. And when we do, it is this God who is waiting for us: who has known all along that life is nothing but pain.
There were a few months, I remember, perhaps as much as a year, when there was some promise here. When spring sent up fragrant air and soft green shoots Mark talked of inviting some friends from London out for a house party. He had the grounds prepared and the bedrooms aired. I believe he even made some telephone calls, but no one came. That summer was the first time Mark brought home some of the teenagers from the town. The whole place was prepared for visitors, it was gaping for them. So Mark found some visitors for the house.
One July morning he took a cab into town – he does not drive any more, not anywhere, not at any time – and in the late afternoon he returned with a rabble of teenage boys, about four or five of them. They seemed more to me then. It was only later, when I came to know them individually, that I understood how few there had really been. They were shouting, and as they walked they tossed a rugby ball from one to the
other. The day was drenchingly hot, absolutely without mercy. I was in the garden, lying on a sun lounger, struggling through an Italian newspaper article with a dictionary. Mark barely acknowledged me as he and the young men walked past. His eyes caught on mine and slid off. One of the boys finished his Coke and tossed the empty bottle into the swimming pool, where it landed with a gentle plash. He laughed. The others, more apprehensive, looked at Mark. Mark looked down at the bottle slowly filling with water, circling and being dragged under. He raised his eyebrows and grinned. The other boys laughed. They went into the house. I watched them go. After a minute or two, I dived into the pool to retrieve the bottle from the tiled floor. I held it in one hand and floated, eyes closed, ears filled with water, weightless.
Later, when the boys were gone, Mark came out to talk to me. He sat on the lounger next to me, wearing only a pair of shorts, his hair tousled.
He said, ‘You don’t mind, do you? It’s only for fun. I need something to take my mind off.’
‘Can’t I do that?’ I said. ‘Aren’t I enough?’
There was a pause which seemed to last for hours. I could hear the sounds of children playing in the nearby fields, that high-pitched shouting which carries for miles.
He shook his head.
I don’t remember feeling anything in particular at that moment. Except, perhaps, a slight sense of recognition, the fulfilment of an old prophecy.
He bit his lip. ‘It doesn’t mean …’ he said. ‘I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you. And you could –’ he attempted a little smile – ‘well, there’s nothing to stop you, if you want to. I mean, there’s nothing to stop you joining in.’
It was a generous offer. He was more tongue-tied than usual as well. I focused on these things.
After a while I said, ‘It won’t be every day, will it?’
‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘Not that often. Just. Sometimes. You know.’

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Pulp Fiction | The Pillars of Salt Affair (Dec. 1967)
EdgeOfHuman
Carter, Beth D. - Lawless Hearts (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
Robert Goddard — Borrowed Time
Gerry Bartlett - Rafe and the Redhead (Real Vampires)
In The Realm of Gods
Shifter Romance Box Set
B01M0OJOU7 EBOK
See Bride Run!
AnotherKindofSummer
A Perfect Night
Samantha Holt - Sinful Temptations (Cynfell Brothers Book 6)
SECRETS Vol. 5
Sexy to Go Volume 2
03 Tales of St.Austin's
French Decadent Tales (Oxford World's Classics)
Phantasm Japan: Fantasies Light and Dark, From and About Japan
01 The Pothunters
Roxanne St. Claire - Barefoot With a Bad Boy (Barefoot Bay Undercover #3)
My Father's Tears and Other Stories
Every Part of You Taunts Me
WorldLost- Week 1: An Infected Novel
July 1930
Kennedy In Denver (In Denver Series Book 1)
bw280
9781618854490WildChelceeNC
Stargazer Maxima (Cosmic Justice League Book 1)
Complete Works of James Joyce
The Collected Westerns of William MacLeod Raine: 21 Novels in One Volume
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue003
ebooksclub.org Open Secrets Stories
The Possibility of Us
Purple Haze (Blue Dream Book 2)
The Season of Passage
The Onyx Talisman
King of Kings
After the Rain (The Twisted Fate Series Book 1)
The Blessing
Ann H
DeathOBTourist
Sword and Sorceress XXVII
New Blood (The Blood Saga Book 2)
GRANDMA'S ATTIC SERIES
A Bad Day for Sorry
06 The Head of Kay's
Diehl, William - Show of Evil
Two Pieces of Tarnished Silver
The Fate of Falling Stars
Behind the Pines (The Gass County Series Book 3)
Bertrand Russell
Love and a Blue-Eyed Cowboy
The Swamp Warden
Fight With Me (Fight and Fall)
Candy Girl
GODWALKER
Red Mandarin Dress
Oscar
After the Fire, A Still Small Voice
To Get To You
Neruda and Vallejo: Selected Poems
You Don't Have to be Good
Jane Vejjajiva
Phoenix Daniels- Beautiful Prey 3
Michelle Woods - Animal Passions (Blue Bandits MC Book 2)
WE
The Way of the Sword
Sarwat Chadda - Billi SanGreal 02 - Dark Goddess
ChristmastoDieFor
Alphas Prefer Curves
The Hot Pink Farmhouse
The Cry of the Marwing
Love Lies
The Scars of Saints
Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics)
THE COLD FIRE-
Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs)
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue007
Cox, Suzanne - Unexpected Daughter
Closer to the Heart (The Heart Trilogy Book 3)
February 1931
How To Write Magical Words: A Writer's Companion
Homeland Security (Defenders of Love Book 2)
The_Chronicl-ir_to_the_King
The Project Gutenberg eBook of To Invade New York.... , by Irwin Lewis
February 1930
THE_REALM_SHIFT
Devi
Wolf3are
Hearts Through Time
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue005
A CRY FROM THE DEEP
Without Prejudice
The Daughter's Return
Amy Sumida - Light as a Feather (Book 14 in The Godhunter Series)
Third World War
The curse of Kalaan
Crash Lights and Sirens, Book 1
Debra Webb - Depraved (Faces of Evil Book 10)
Amy Sumida - Perchance To Die (The Godhunter Book 12)
The Lion of Boaz-Jachin and Jachin-Boaz by Russell Hoban(1973)
Rough Around the Edges Meets Refined (Meet Your Match, book 2)
A Soul's Sacrifice (Voodoo Revival Series Book 1)
Charles Willeford - Way We Die Now
Type here book author - Type here book title
2012-09-Shattered Steel
With Strings Attached
9781618853462BlindEcstasyHoltNC
Girl Friday
An Unacceptable Death - Barbara Seranella
Hidden Realms
Last Night Another Soldier
The Worst Witch to the Rescue
Immortal of Darkness
the eye of the tiger
The Last Illusion
June 1931
Taming Her Italian Boss
Once Bitten - Clare Willis
9781618852014TheSpaceCougarsCadetPierce
Pulp Fiction | The Invisibility Affair by Thomas Stratton
TrustMe
White Is for Witching
May 1930
The Girl of Diamonds and Rust (The Half Shell Series Book 3)
DropZone
29 Three Men and a Maid
bc-1010_mother_in_bondage_paul_gable_
Complicated Matters
Untitled0
changing-places-david-lodge
The Winter House
The Alchemy Press Book of Urban Mythic
HORRORS! #2 More Rarely Reprinted Classic Terror Tales
Best European Fiction 2013
Earthquake
The Secret of the Rose and Glove
What to Do When Someone Dies
Amy Sumida - Tracing Thunder (The Godhunter Series Book 13)
True Ghost Stories: Real Accounts of Death and Dying, Grief and Bereavement, Soulmates and Heaven, Near Death Experiences, and Other Paranormal Mysteries (The Supernatural Book Series: Volume 2)
Manage Me (Taven's Circus Book 1)
9781618850638IfOnlyYouKnewBergman
Islamic States of America (Soldier Up Book 2)
book
Another World
Amy Sumida - Out of the Darkness (The Godhunter Book 11)
The Rainbow Pool
The Pantheon: From Antiquity to the Present
2012-12-Thieves Vinegar
in0
Wolf's Bane: Book Three of the Demimonde
11 The Swoop
Spud
Urban Legend
01
Taking Whatever He Wants: The Cline Brothers of Colorado
0968348001325302640 brenda huber shadows
Tales of the German Imagination from the Brothers Grimm to Ingeborg Bachmann (Penguin Classics)
AccidentalVoyeur
Dark Delicacies II: Fear; More Original Tales of Terror and the Macabre by the World's Greatest Horror Writers
A. Zavarelli - Stutter (Bleeding Hearts Book 2)
Oklahoma kiss
Born To Be Wild
Catching Haley (Falling for Bentley Book 2)
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue002
The Seventh Execution
Simply Beautiful
Adaptation Part Two
The Way of the Dragon
Aminadab 0803213131
9781622661848 EPUB
Pulp Fiction | The Cat and Mouse Affair (August 1966)
The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories (Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Original)
The Thackery T Lambshead Pocket Guide To Eccentric & Discredited Diseases
9781618853011NoHoldsBarredChelcee
Ruth Ann Scott - Alien Romance - Saved By An Alien
Borderlands 5
Susan Hatler - Just One Kiss (Kissed by the Bay Book 3)
Stephanie Thomas - Lucidity
Whisper of Leaves
Charity's Warrior
Nine Months to Change His Life
Surrendered: A Collection of Five Works
book_template2.qxd
Guardian
I Dream of Yellow Kites: What if it was all just a nightmare?
Delilah Devlin - Sm{B}itten (Night Fall #1)
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue004
Body Heat
J.Rihards - An Agitated Gentleman (The Submission Series #2)
The Forsaken Rose: (Clean Young Adult, Fantasy Romance) (Rose Belmont Series)
Johnny Dash and the Doral Flower (Johhny Dash Series Book 1)
BeneathCeaselessSkies_Issue011
Change of Heart by Jack Allen
Arnica Butler - Well-Constructed Affairs
Marie Force - And I Love You (Green Mountain #4)
The Orphic Hymns
Perfect Personality Profiles
William F. Nolan - Logan's Run Trilogy (v4.1)
o ca77aeec6e4cf556
HisHumanCow
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue010
Tampa Black: Part !
Ruby's Song (Love in the Sierras Book 3)
Troubled Daughters, Twisted Wives: Stories from the Trailblazers of Domestic Suspense
The Bonedust Dolls
GodOfWar05152014aLLROMANCE
October 1930
Bright Fires Burn Fastest
March 1931
Pulp Fiction | The Finger in the Sky Affair by Peter Leslie
Adien: The Sons Of The Apocalypse MC
The Mao Case
Microsoft Word - Documento1
Ghostwritten
Tropic of Night
I Remember You (An Erotic Romance) - Isis Cole
StealingFireCalibre
B00HSFFI1Q EBOK
Her Love Lost (Love Shattered Series Book 1)
storm
Can’t Never Tell
4221 words
dontjudge06242014aRe
My Lord Beaumont
Gagliano,Anthony - Straits of Fortune.wps
DreamDatewiththeMillionaire
i de1359f7e9a78273
The Blind Side of the Heart
Pleasure 2035
Bobby Hutchinson - [Emergency 01] - Side Effects (HSR 723).htm
The Unprintable Big Clock Chronicle
index
Harari, Yuval Noah - Sapiens, A - Sapiens, A Brief History Of Hum
Lend Me Your Ears: Great Speeches in History
Tainaron - Mail from another city
Porno
Doctor Who - The Silent Stars Go By
Highland Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set
Diary of a Vampeen: Vamp Yourself for War
12 Mike
Sing to Me
B001GAQ55C_EBOK.prc
22 The Man With Two Left Feet
Serpent Moon
The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 4
9781618850034TroubleHunter
Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians
Abduction Revelation II: Truth Be Told (The Comeback Kid)
Pulp Fiction | The Hollow Crown Affair by David McDaniel
Black Corner
Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles)
2012-11-Killing Time
Blood and Money
Pulp Fiction | The Synthetic Storm Affair (May 1967)
Trespass
The Barrier: The Teorran of Time: Teen Fantasy Action Adventure Novel
Quarterback Sneak
Adaptation Part One
amonthwithpub
Waltz This Way
BOH 8-21-07 (00178434).DOC
Helen Smith - Beyond Belief (Emily Castles #4)
tmp0
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue009
The Politeness of Princes (The Politeness of Princes [1905]; Shields' and the Cricket Cup [1905]; An International Affair [1905]; The Guardian [1908]; A Corner in Lines [1905]; The Autograph Hunte
Do or Die Reluctant Heroes
January 1931
Susan Meissner - Why the Sky Is Blue
B005H8M8UA EBOK
cause to run an avery black my
B00N1384BU EBOK
Severance Lost (Fractal Forsaken Series Book 1)
Thrity Umrigar - First Darling of the Morning (mobi)
Her First Fisting
Sophia Hampton - Withdrawal (Satan's Cubs Motorcycle Club Book 2)
The Best Science Fiction of the Year: 1
The Juggler And His Rose
Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXVI
Love Lust
PIECES OF LAUGHTER AND FUN
B00S79KYL6 EBOK
World's Funniest Jokes (Volume I): Huge Collection of mainly dirty jokes, puns and humor for adults
On killing
The Raymond Chandler Papers: Selected Letters and Nonfiction 1909-1959
Retaliation (The Assassins Book 1)
Enduring Love
B00F9G4R1S EBOK
9781618850478TwoForThePriceOfOneSullivan
Moon Bound (Glorious Darkness Book 1)
A Silence in the Heavens
Rogue Oracle
Guns of Alkenstar
CourtesanTales Masterfile
Orders from Berlin
The Perfect Match
Thea Frost - What His Darkness Reveals 04
September 1930
Portia Moore - He Lived Next Door
Pulp Fiction | The Vampire Affair by David McDaniel
Committed: An Erotic Valentine's Tale
Death At The Excelsior (Death at the Excelsior [1914]; Misunderstood [1910]; The Best Sauce [1911]; Jeeves and the Chump Cyril [1918]; Jeeves in the Springtime [1921]; Concealed Art [1915]; The Te
Selena Kitt - Gavin (Stepbrother Studs)
Tiredness Kills - A Zombie Tale
Shifting
Loser's Town
Thalia Lake - Choosey Lovers
The Savage Altar
German Cooking Today
The Touch of Love
A Passage to Absalom
A Beautiful Fate
B071NZPNXN EBOK
Purveyors and Acquirers (The Phosfire Journeys Book 1)
The Way You Love Me
Burned
Microsoft Word - Book 12 FINAL
Microsoft Word - TheEx-FactorFinal.docx
Amazing Stories 88th Anniversary Issue: Amazing Stories April 2014
BeneathCeaselessSkies Issue006
Charlene Hartnady - Stolen by the Alpha Wolf 3# (Determined Theft)
UNTOUCHABLE
Family Storms
Clean Romance: Loves of Tomorrow (Contemporary New Adult and College Amish Western Culture Romance) (Urban Power of Love Billionaire Western Collection Time Travel Short Stories)
Pulp Fiction | The Goliath Affair (December 1966)
Love and Punishment
Won't Back Down: Won't Back Down
von Willegen, Therése - Tainted Love (Siren Publishing Classic)
Broken
The Fighter's Girl
Watching You: KJ Elite Inc.
J.A. Pierre - A New Dawn: From Rich Housewife to Suddenly Single
14 Psmith in the City
i 7d341843b82569de
Truly, Madly
Noble Sacrifice
Red Solstice (Alfheim Book 1)
Volume 3: Ghost Stories from Texas (Joe Kwon's True Ghost Stories from Around the World)
HORRORS!: Rarely-Reprinted Classic Terror Tales
TheNine-MonthBride
Starfire
Loving Liza Jane
Spring Fires
The Secret Friend
Last Witness
B00OPGSMHI EBOK
KnightRiderLegacy
A Tale of Fur and Flesh
Helen Smith - Real Elves: A Christmas Story (Emily Castles Mysteries #5)
A.J. Bennett - Hired Gun #3 (The Sicarii)
Red Christmas
The Way Home (Lights of Peril)
Ever, Dirk: The Bogarde Letters
The Railway Detective
Free Fall
The Amateur Marriage
Amy Sumida - Blood Bound (Book 16 in The Godhunter Series)
April 1931
Temporally Out of Order
HALLOWED_GROUND
AJAYA I -- Roll of the Dice
Open File
Addiction (Magnetic Desires Book 2)
Crybbe (AKA Curfew)
B00I8BCQ6O EBOK
tameallrom
i beae453328863969
Hecate's Own: Heart's Desire, Book 2
A Life In Blood (Chronicles of The Order Book 1)
The Commitment
The Mighty First, Episode 1: Special Edition
Names My Sisters Call Me
Sharon Karaa - A Familiar Problem (Northern Witches #2)
August 1930
The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 1
Alexx Andria - A Christmas Promise
Bear of Interest
i 5f46cfb4d10d4d86
IT
Tombstoning
Pulp Fiction | The Howling Teenagers Affair (February 1966)
The Man From Beijing
So Paddy got up - an Arsenal anthology
A Book of Mediterranean Food
Science Fiction Fantasies: Tales and Origins
Lightning Rod Faces the Cyclops Queen
Letting Go (A Mitchell Family Series)
The Memory Game
Mandy M. Roth - Magic Under Fire (Over a Dozen Tales of Urban Fantasy)
KD Robichaux- Wish he was you (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 2)
B018YDIXDK EBOK
Julia Mills - Her Dragon's Heart (Dragon Guard Series Book 8)
Number9Dream
B00ICVKWMK EBOK
The_Chronicl-_Rise_of_Lucin
Harcourte Vampyre Society 02 Dangerous Choices
Julian, by Gore Vidal
Amazing Stories 88th Anniversary Issue
Great Russian Short Stories
Dizzy
The Men of CLE-FD updated
Victoria Connelly - The Rose Girl
Nine One One
Borderlands 4
Change of Fate (The Briar Creek Vampires Series #4)
The Treasure of Far Thallai
Dark Whispers Sheridan and Cain 2009
Charissa Dufour - Misguided Allies (The Void Series Book 2)
Complete Works of J. M. Barrie
With Our Dying Breath
Harcourte Vampyre Society 01 Dangerous Revelations
BootyARe05202014