Memory of Murder
Book 2 from the Shorts in the Dark seriesI guess we’ve all had moments in our lives where some unexpected event has triggered memories we had forgotten were even there. Perhaps the smell of someone’s perfume that ignites a memory of a loved one long since departed or a meal that was once a sought-after favourite and moves your taste buds to long for the experience anew. But what if some horrific encounter was to bring back memories of altogether less pleasant times? This is precisely what hap...
Memory of Murder
Book 2 from the Shorts in the Dark seriesI guess we’ve all had moments in our lives where some unexpected event has triggered memories we had forgotten were even there. Perhaps the smell of someone’s perfume that ignites a memory of a loved one long since departed or a meal that was once a sought-after favourite and moves your taste buds to long for the experience anew. But what if some horrific encounter was to bring back memories of altogether less pleasant times? This is precisely what hap...
Where the Sky meets the Land
Romney Marsh is a large, flat expanse of land on the southern coast of England overlooking the English Channel. Criss-crossed by a seemingly endless maze of dykes and water-filled ditches, and dotted here and there with Medieval churches and old farm buildings, it can feel isolated and cut off from the rest of the world in both time and place. On a day when the weather is pleasant it is possible to find yourself a quiet little spot where you can turn your face to the gentle sea breeze and lis...
Where the Sky meets the Land
Romney Marsh is a large, flat expanse of land on the southern coast of England overlooking the English Channel. Criss-crossed by a seemingly endless maze of dykes and water-filled ditches, and dotted here and there with Medieval churches and old farm buildings, it can feel isolated and cut off from the rest of the world in both time and place. On a day when the weather is pleasant it is possible to find yourself a quiet little spot where you can turn your face to the gentle sea breeze and lis...
DUST
Dust is skin. Dead skin. Shed from our bodies like confetti at a wedding. But, unlike confetti, each little speck of dust is so infinitesimally small that we can’t see it on its own. It’s only once those tiny specks begin to join forces, to gang up together into thin, grey layers or shifting, billowing clouds that we start to notice them. And when we do, out come our weapons of choice, vacuum cleaners, brushes, dusters and the like, and we hurry the dust away; away to a vast, ever-expanding g...
DUST
Dust is skin. Dead skin. Shed from our bodies like confetti at a wedding. But, unlike confetti, each little speck of dust is so infinitesimally small that we can’t see it on its own. It’s only once those tiny specks begin to join forces, to gang up together into thin, grey layers or shifting, billowing clouds that we start to notice them. And when we do, out come our weapons of choice, vacuum cleaners, brushes, dusters and the like, and we hurry the dust away; away to a vast, ever-expanding g...
Meet Ben Westerham
Hi, I’m Ben Westerham, a UK-based indie fiction author, writing mainly crime, mystery and thriller stories, although I also stray into sci-fi and fantasy. These words are an introduction to me and my writing as I start out on a journey into the world of Web3.BeginningsI wrote in what I can best describe as bits and pieces for a very long time, never having the courage nor the belief to commit to going further. But this was never going to continue forever; the need to write was too strong. Eve...
Meet Ben Westerham
Hi, I’m Ben Westerham, a UK-based indie fiction author, writing mainly crime, mystery and thriller stories, although I also stray into sci-fi and fantasy. These words are an introduction to me and my writing as I start out on a journey into the world of Web3.BeginningsI wrote in what I can best describe as bits and pieces for a very long time, never having the courage nor the belief to commit to going further. But this was never going to continue forever; the need to write was too strong. Eve...
