She didn’t need her psychic powers to know that anything with Brisbane City Council on it was not going to be good news and she almost gave it back to Genghis for annihilation by slobber. One of them might as well get pleasure out of the damned thing. Unfortunately she didn’t think the council would accept “the dog ate the notice” from a grown woman. She hurried up the stairs with the dogs at her heels. Her metal bangles, thinner every year, jingled with the rhythm. She could feel an edge of anxiety, never far away, kick up a notch—her psychic ability came hand in hand with a fretfulness she’d never quite mastered and to say she felt uneasy right now was an understatement. Her recurrent dream didn’t help. She woke most mornings desperately trying to hold on to the wisps of a vanishing dream that her intuition told her was important. But it always slipped from her grasp and she was left with just two words—yellow gold. Important words.
What do You think about Holding Out For A Hero (2013)?
