Just had the new book GIBRALTAR ROCK proof back from the publishers - it looks stunning.

Meanwhile, a short story that you might enjoy.

A Storm in the Night, by Andy Reeley

Henry looked across at Catherine as she slept bathed in the soft light from moonbeams gently shining in from the picture window. Catherine lay on her back, her lace-enclosed bosom gently rising and falling as she took breath. There was a barely audible purr escaping her as she slumbered. Henry could see Catherine’s eyelids flicker as she dreamt and Henry wondered what lands her mind was in, what delights she thought of, and what memories her sleep plundered to make her dreams and night time wishes and hopes.

Silently the clouds gathered across the sky, thin wisps beginning a quiet obscuring of the gibbous, almost full moon. The white porcelain moonlight that poured into the room showing Catherine in all her glory and beauty began to fade and thin. Henry watched Catherine’s outline melt into the darkness, and all too soon he could see only inky shapeless blackness with only a slight purring to denote her presence. Henry smiled as he thought that even her snoring was a matter of beauty. Where many a woman would snort or burble, Catherine lay serene, a mere barely discernible feline rumble the only escapee from her sleep. Catherine slept the sleep of the just and the beautiful and Henry basked in her beauty and love, proud that she had chosen him as her life partner and lover.

Henry, his eyes having now adjusted to the gloom, softly left the bed and padded to the window, drawing the heavy patterned drapes, shutting out the silent war as cumulus and nimbus clouds battled for control of the night sky – only the occasional star daring to show through the almost total vaporous domination. Henry slowly walked back in the darkness and released the drapes at each side of the bed, drawing first the closures on Catherine’s side, then the end and finally shutting out the world behind him as he returned to his side of the Tester. Now in total darkness, Henry felt a warm and comforting feeling, the world was shut out of their room, the room was shut out of their bed, and all they need concern themselves with was each other. Henry slid his hand down the bed, seeking Catherine. He found her fingers almost immediately, and as he touched her, Catherine’s hand gently took his and she sleepily whispered her love for him, her voice soft and velvet like, her words sinking into his memory as the night took its final devastating prize.

The early morning light was too dim to register; Henry could only see small grey lines that were the gaps in the bed drapes. Catherine was now silent as she lay beside him, no purring escaped to dance and weave around his ears, no breathe could he hear. Her hand was cool and unresponsive to his touch and Henry knew that her battle was over, that her suffering and torment of pain were now gone and that his Catherine had been released. A huge shudder racked his body as he took in a gulp, a single large tear drop formed before escaping and gathering momentum as it ran down his cheek, dropping and showing the way to the others that would surely soon follow. He sat up, not really knowing what he was to do next. He had long prepared for this day, made plans and arrangements so that Catherine would not worry that her passing would cause a panic. And now the day was here the plans and preparations had disappeared – stolen from his mind in the night, just as surely missing as his lovers’ life force was now.

He pulled back the drape at the side of the bed leaving behind the vacant shell of humanity that was once such an important part of his life, swung out his legs and looked up. Catherine stood smiling at him, wearing her beautiful lace nightdress that he had bought her as the illness took hold. She had wanted to look her best for when the doctors called to attend to her. Catherine looked cherishingly at him, her image the only brightness in the room, and as the warmth radiated from her a peace took hold of him and his tears of sadness dried.

“It will be alright my Love,” she said, her voice soft and comforting to his ear, “our suffering has finished. My Darling Henry, I cannot express enough my love for you, my gratitude that you lay there night after night, just holding me, praying for me, wishing that the pain would go. Oh my Love, I would have perished many months ago if not for your strength and caring and love. Without you, there would have been nothing to hold back the darkness, no lovers’ tears to wash away the pain and upset. My Darling, I now know that The Good Lords’ angels helped with your ministrations and with their wings they helped lighten the burden that was me and I too thank them and the Lord. Now my pain is gone and I no longer dilute your strength. You no longer have to help me bear my suffering and my pain. I will have your love and comfort with me for all time, and know this my darling, I will wait for you for all eternity my love, cherishing and nurturing your love, and one day my Darling, one day we will once more walk hand in hand in the garden of our dreams. Once more I will be able to feel the passion of your warm embrace, once more we will kiss under the bough of a mossy lime tree, laughing as squirrels gather nuts for a winter’s store.”

Tears slowly started to trickle once more from his eyes, becoming a small river running down each cheek, dipping in their path to meet his mouth, leaving a slight salty tang as they cracked the dryness they found there. He put his hand out to touch her, to hold her one last time, but could not reach her; she seemed to be so far away, yet looked so close.

“Goodbye my Love, I will always, always have your love. Without you my life would have been barren and empty.” His words seemed hollow and wrong. He could not seem to say what he wanted, what he felt. His mouth just opened and closed, no more words could he form.

“Goodbye my Love” and as she uttered her farewell she dimmed and merged with the gloom in the corner of the room. The warmth that he had felt in her presence began to fade, the coolness of the early morning beginning to make its presence felt. All that lingered was her memory. He felt a slight soreness, almost an irritation in his hand. He opened his fingers to rub at or scratch, to take away the distraction, and found only a surprise. In his hand was a small gold cross. He had no idea how it got there. Her voice quietly came into his head:

“My Darling, take this gift as a token of my love and always have this with you and keep it between you and those who would do you harm, for it has the power of my love for you within it”.

He looked down at the small gold gift and sank to his knees, sobs racking his body, his grief too much to bear, inconsolable in his loss, he cried and cried, tears falling in a salty rain, his hand gripping the small golden symbol through the pile of the carpet as he lay sobbing.