Trumor Stories

John, he's a pretty good bloke. Quite a remarkable concreter. He plies his trade on the Gold Coast of Australia. He's not exactly sure what happened in his father's childhood. But as man, John remembers well the hiding that he himself copped... he can't always remember what it knocked out of him but he remembers very well, the hiding itself. It wasn't enough to kill him, but it was enough for him to survive and endure life. John grew up for most of his life without a dad. He doesn't know the lessons he missed. He survived. He's created some lessons himself. He found brothers and father figures. John is more than a teacher, more than a survivor, he's a warrior too... When a child was placed in John's hands at the age of twenty, he really had no idea what to do. Smash him against the wall or kiss him on the forehead like a Hallmark card. John gave him back. John went to war, without his son. Will John be victorious? On what battle field will John eventually meet his son? Has the warriors creed inhabited John's 20 year old son's mind? What, if anything can these 'Concrete Warriors' build together? -Concrete Warriors

In a world where her body is owned, her heart is the only thing she has left to hide. ***************** Kelliandra has known only one truth since birth: the plantation of the Bill family owns her breath, her sweat, her very shadow. But they do not own her dreams. In the quiet hours between dusk and dawn, she dares to dream for him- Andrew, the master's son. A man whose voice is silk and whose gaze, when it lingers on her a second too long, feels like a match held to dry hay. Andrew she be grateful. His betrothal to the breathtakingly beautiful Veronica is everything his father demands: wealth, status, a future cast in iron. Yet each night, his mind betrays him with visions of a girl who has no name in society's eyes. He would burn down his inheritance for one honest touch from Kelliandra. But a slave and a master's son? That is not a secret. That is a death sentence. ******************** One forbidden love. Two hearts on a pyre. And a world that would rather see them hang than hold hands. In this house, the greatest sin isn't cruelty, it's wanting.