A NEW GIFT

I live in a retirement complex and read my novels to about 35 residents twice a month. They had been very well received by most.​

KEPT is an allegory of the last times. This is how it starts. Jane opened her eyes and looked straight at the small boy. Not that she could see much of his face because half of it was covered by regulation anti-glare glasses, and his jaw-line, already angular had lost any semblance of individuality. 

THE ISLE OF BLISS is a story about two friends and their   search for bliss. This is how it starts. It was unbelievably expensive but that didn’t matter to those who lived there - they were unbelievably wealthy. Neither did it matter to those who lived there – they were unbelievably wealthy. Neither did it matter to those who had bought this lush island in the centre of the Pacific- developing it into a private and luxurious estate, and becoming multi-millionaires in the process. 

MRS HORACE HAMILTON- SMITH 
This is how it starts. Mrs Horace Hamilton-Smith lived with her three children in a large apartment in Kensington, London, with a communal garden stretching down to a small canal of the Thames. Horace had conveniently passed on – she knew not where- some years ago, leaving her enough money to enjoy her indulgent lifestyle. Mrs Horace Hamilton-Smith was a poet – a very modern poet. She had no time for those things – iambic pentameters – she had learnt at school. “My dear, I write as I speak,” she said - which was somewhat unfortunate. 

MR PICKWICK 
This is how it starts. Mr Pickwick was born in Kent, England, to wealthy parents. He was their only child, which was fortunate, because from the day of his birth he was a very picky character. He refused his mother Margaret’s breast, that of a wet nurse, all the formulas and even cow’s milk. When he was at death’s door, Dr Soames suggested trying his mother’s milk and a formula. It worked and baby James survived. Of course, there was the same problem when he was four months old and put on to solids. He turned his head away and yelled or spat it out. His parents were frantic until they found he preferred ice-cream, crispy bread rolls, tomato sauce, chicken, scones with butter, cream and strawberry jam, and a tiny sip of Papa’s finest champagne to all the good things babies were supposed to eat. 

NATALIE KNOWN 
This is how it starts. It was a warm and sunny day in Johannesburg. Church bells were pealing. It was Christmas day. Matron Maria opened the door of The Orphanage, and saw a beautiful baby girl dressed in pink and lying in a carrycot. “Welcome, my pretty baby,” she said. “I’ll call you Natalie because you were born on Christmas morning.” She picked up the carrycot and went inside. All the carers came and exclaimed “God bless her!” 

JEALOUSY 
This is how it starts. It was midnight in Petersville. A fierce wind was gushing over a young woman dressed only in a flimsy nightdress. Desperately she rang the doorbell of a large house. The door was opened immediately, and warm hands drew her inside. “You poor darling!” exclaimed a woman, “You are safe now.” She led Susan, for that was her name, into a room with a cheerful fire burning in the grate. Opening a large cupboard, she took out a towel, and dried and dressed Susan in warm pyjamas and dressing gown while the shocked Susan shivered and wept. 

THE MISSES PRIM 
This is how it starts. By early 1925, the three Prim sisters had been born in the Manor House in Cherrylane Village in England roughly two years apart. They had a governess called Miss Petticoat. The Coke family had occupied the Manor House for generations. Sir Walter Coke was the sister’s father, and Lady Amelia their mother. The Manor House had a large farm where pigs, sheep and horses were bred and sold. The Steward was responsible for everything about it. His name was Mr Brown.  

ISABELLA 
This is how it starts.  When Isabella arrived on the scene, her parents were quite poor. They had fallen madly in love while studying at Wits University. Toby was studying Art, its history and practical courses in sculpture and painting while Isabella had opted to major in History of Music and Piano Performance. After an idyllic wedding they flew to Durban for a short honeymoon. Parents on both sides chipped in to rent a modest flat in Braamfontein. For a time, things went well. They hung out with friends, played tennis, and visited their parents when they felt like their mothers’ cooking – which was most nights. 
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God bless you 
Merle