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The Call of the Sea
The Call of the Sea was chosen for the Irish Issue of 'Literary Orphans'
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The Christmas Market
"For eleven months of the year the three generations existed in harmony beneath the same roof. That tragedy had befallen the family seven years ago no lodger or patron in the establishment would ever suspect or admit."
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The Last Bus
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Mac Tire, the Son of the Countryside
"Too many moons had awoken and given way to the Great Fire in the Sky since Mac Tire, the last wolf in Ireland, had allowed his hunger for a mate to lead him to the man-cur’s trap."
http://greysparrowpress.sharepoint.com/Pages/
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Steve - A Writer in the Spotlight
Steve was Bluethumbnail's 'Writer in the Spotlight' in the early part of 2011. Check out Steve's profile on Bluethumbnail at the link below.
http://www.bluethumbnail.com/Author/steve-wade.html
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Lequoia and the Mai-coh
Fjords Literary journal features a recording of Steve's own voice reading his story 'Lequoia and the Mai-coh,' which centres around the symbiotic relationship between a golden eagle and a wolf. |
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The Birthday
http://thewriteroom.wordpress.com/2009/03/22/
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High Flyer
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On the Seventh Day
While Ellie scraped the razor down his cheekbone to his jaw, he tried to synchronise his breathing with hers. Her breath caressed his face. The nerve twitching at the side of his head pulled his reluctant eyes towards his own reflection in the bathroom mirror.
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The Panicked Rat
Christmas Eve: cold and sparkling. Happy faces. Children’s voices, like chirping birds, twittering about Santa. And the shoppers smiling and simpering their apologies for getting in each other’s way.
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Another birthday.
My thirty-seventh. Somehow, there seemed great significance attached
to my being thirty-seven. There were famous figures in history who
didn’t quite kick-off their careers till they were thirty-seven.
George Barnard Shaw was one of them; that I knew. And there
were others too, but I couldn’t think of any. I’d do a Google on
them later.
MOST of all
Isabel noticed his hands.
They were
good hands, dark-skinned, kind hands, but capable,
too. It
took huge effort during the 20-minute journey home not to glance
directly at his face again. When the sound of the engine shifted, as
the train roared through the short tunnels, she watched his window
reflection watching hers.
