She was human he was an alien whose race had mastered the space time continuum.
..................................................
They were a couple from Los Angeles who staged their own death.
...................................
It was Paris in the seventeen hundreds and he'd fallen in love with his house keeper who would forever have a spark of magic.
Why don't I ever get these full books completed? They sit in unpublished shards. Before one gets even half way completed there is a new story in my head.
New thought, horror novel, the conversation between the priest and the detectives who found the house on fire.
So many ideas, all in flight and where is my concentration and my focus?
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