Blind-Date Baby
Grace Marlowe and six o'clock in the morning weren't normally on speaking terms. But here she was, standing in the middle of her darkened kitchen, the clock ticking in time with her heartbeat. Pearly light seeped between the slats of the blind, draining all colour from her funky little kitchen. She wrinkled her nose. Everything was grey, even the lime green mugs and the pink toaster. This truly was a repulsive time of day.
What was she doing here? Right about now she should be mumbling incoherently in her sleep, her left foot tucked over the top of the duvet to keep it nice and cool.
In a sudden flurry of movement she turned and headed towards a cupboard—any cupboard—and opened the door. It didn't matter which one. She just needed to be doing something. Because she refused to think about why her little flat seemed like a gaping black hole this morning.
Bags of dried pasta and tins of tomato soup stared blankly at her from inside the cupboard. She shut the door carefully and tried the next one. Five boxes of breakfast cereal sat in a row, waiting for her to choose one of them. She closed that door too.
The kettle was within easy reach and she absent-mindedly ... read full excerpt from: Blind-Date Baby ebook
