Anthony Horowitz

crimson curtain cord

the fractured hyoid bone

leapt at the opportunity

the growlers rattling over the cobblestones,

disturbingly muddy field

modus operandi,’ I suggested.

poor eyesight,’ I said.

She was in her sixties with a pleasant, round face.

might or might not

would join a gang at Jamaica Inn, preying on the wretched sailors who came too close. I would fall madly in love with Edward Rochester, but in my version of the story I would save him from the flames. I would travel to the lost city of Kôr and find immortality in the Pillar of Fire.