Holiday Of A Lifetime
Part 1 - Seahouses Bay
- Cover
- 1 - Dysfunctionality
- 2 - Rude Awakening
- 3 - Financial Wrongs
- 4 - Ticket to Where?
- 5 - Smooching with Woo-Who?
- 6 - Passports Please
- 7 - New Arrivals
- 8 - Xavier
Part 2 - Isla del Granita
- 9 - Work It, Own It
- 10 - Strange Stirrings
- 11 - Retail Therapy
- 12 - Dinner for One
- 13 - Xavier
- 14 - Skinny Dipping
- 15 - Xavier
- 16 - Culture and Cuisine
- 17 - Xavier
- 18 - Biscotti Bliss
- 19 - Xavier
- 20 - Morning Sickness
- 21 - Smugglers' Bay
- 22 - Xavier
- 23 - It's Not the Fall ...
- 24 - Xavier
- 25 - Not That Kind of Girl
- 26 - Xavier
- 27 - Smugglers' Cove
- 28 - That Kind of Girl
- 29 - Demons
- 30 - Storm Clouds
Part 3 - Westhouses
Part 4 - Seahouses Reprise
- 33 - Home at Last
- 34 - Breakfast Plans
- 35 - Outstanding Bills
- 36 - Planning an Invasion
- 37 - Financial Rights
- 38 - New Beginnings
- 39 - Mile High
- 40 - Epilogue
Bonus - Melissa's Tale
19 - Xavier
Xavier merged into the shadows of the doorway, his quarry had stopped.
At six-foot four, 350 pounds, muscular not fat, legs like tree trunks, neck of a bull and arms that could crack bone, the concierge was a brute of a man. Ever the pragmatist, Xavier had sheathed his weapon of choice and attached the silencer to his 9mm. He wasn't familiar with this part of the town and wondered where the concierge was going. It was only due to Xavier's curiosity that the concierge was still walking. The concierge came to a decision and turned left, Xavier followed, flowing through the moon-cast shadows. Turning into a long straight alley, Xavier glimpsed the form of a young girl hurrying in the street ahead, the concierge speeded up. So, that was his game. Xavier disliked unnecessary expenditure of energy, but tonight he would make an exception. He holstered the 9mm, withdrew a vicious garrotte and took to the rooves. The night was still going to end very unpleasantly, but no longer for the girl. Despite being a cold-blooded killer, Xavier held a very strong moral opinion about the word 'consent'.
The concierge drifted into the bay on the night-tide with the other detritus, his life-less eyes popping from their sockets, a soundless scream of endless pain frozen on his rictus lips.
Xavier tripped over his feet and tumbled, shirt buttons ripped, belt missing, hair an uncharacteristic mess, from the door way.
The bright early morning light hurt his eyes. He staggered across the street into the small plaza and plunged his head into the cold water of the fountain basin.
Coughing and spluttering he swayed as he gripped the ornamental fish for support. Cold water from his soaked hair ran down his back, the jet of water from the fish's mouth played over his arm. He looked back at the balcony above the door. The mother waved playfully at him, the daughter reached for the fastening of her chemise.
He fled. There were tasks he had to do and he was already late.
18 - Biscotti Bliss