‘Jed Newton. The hospital? Yes that’s right the wife’s on the list. We was told she’d be a proper good match in the right circumstances but… What? An opportunity has…? I’m not following you, mate. Listen now, she was informed the chances weren’t great due to the rarity of… What? A dying woman has what…? Are you saying Tracy can have her womb transplant?’
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Continue readingJasmine approached her make up like an artist approaches a canvas. Her case of pastel eyeshadows as complex as a painter’s pallet. She dabbed her eyelids with emerald green and turquoise, transforming herself from housewife to glamourous movie star
Jasime glanced at the light blue veins that braided her translucent wrists like Ming replicas. Marred only by a faint butterfly tattoo just above her pulse point. Ink so stubborn it resisted removal by any modern method. A dogged reminder of the secrets she carried like a long-buried splinter
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