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Description
Sujets
Informations
Publié par | Andrews UK |
Date de parution | 11 octobre 2011 |
Nombre de lectures | 0 |
EAN13 | 9781849896672 |
Langue | English |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
Title Page
THOU SHALT NOT COVET
By
Roger Frank Selby
Publisher Information
Thou Shalt Not Covet
Published in 2011 by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright © Roger Frank Selby
The right of Roger Frank Selby to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Thou Shalt Not Covet
Lynda was too perfect. I should have realised that when she moved in with Olly. Now don’t get me wrong, my neighbour Olly really is as sharp as they come when it comes to information technology and his high flying job in the city - which he cleverly manages by working from home half the time - but in the appearance department he is definitely no hunk. True, you can’t have everything, but there is normally a rough correspondence between couples in looks. These two were a species apart.
‘Hi, Lynda.’ I was washing my pride and joy in the drive - no, my classic E-type Jaguar - which has been known to melt the odd female heart.
‘Hello, Jake.’ She smiled cordially as she strode up her own drive with a few shopping bags. There was exactly the right amount of neighbourly friendliness in her melodic voice, no more, no less. Her wide blue eyes flicked away from me, but my eyes stayed on her, feasting on the perfect body that moved so poetically beneath her close-fitting clothes. Now, by perfect, I mean perfect from the male, Bloody Hell, just-look-at-the-body-on-her, point of view. Not fashion model perfect, you understand; curves like hers are never allowed on catwalks.
Since Joanne had left me a month ago - and good riddance - I’d been glancing more and more at my neighbour’s delectable partner, a woman who clearly deserved better.
Time to make a move.
I ran through my options. Among several dastardly schemes, some sort of contrived plumbing emergency did cross my mind at that point, having my own successful business in that lucrative but demanding profession. I rejected it out of hand. Better think of something quickly, though, she was just disappearing though her front door ...
She stopped on the threshold.
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