The One

By Tony Spencer

Alan Palmer sits in a coffee bar of a swanky hotel contemplating the loss of his relationship when the last person he ever wanted to see again pops up to compound his misery. Set in England.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tony Spencer
• Release date: Dec 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301428809

Tony Spencer

Have published 34 books since 1998, one out of print, 22 available on Smashwords, 6 on Wattpad and 5 on Amazon. I started writing fiction in 2012. I brought out a glut of little books as soon as I realised self publishing was an option, but now I am settling down to produce one novel and a collection of other stories each year. A grandfather of three angels, happily married for 42 years to another angel, living in Hampshire, England, about 35 miles west of London. I had worked for over 40 years as a printer and proofreader but retired in 2015 and hoping to spend more time writing. Also an editor of a community magazine, football programmes and have written weekly sports reports now for almost 20 years in local newspapers. Now concentrating on romantic fiction, mostly short stories, with occasional novellas and novels. Proud to be a member of the KCEditions independent publishing house of Canada.

Book preview

The One

Tony Spencer

Published by Tony Spencer at Smashwords

Copyright © 2012 Tony Spencer

Smashword Edition, License Notes

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Alan? Alan Palmer?

I was miles away daydreaming over a cup of coffee in the hotel lounge, I guess. I had just closed my laptop and was thinking about my wife of twelve years, the mother of my three children, making love upstairs in her lover's usual room, early afternoon on a Wednesday. Same ole, same ole, apparently. I found it difficult to think of anything else.

My ears pricked up at the sound of my name and I slowly reacted and turned my head to the speaker. She was tall and slim, an attractive redhead, with a rather hesitant smile on her flawless face, dressed in a crisp sleek blue pin-striped business suit which emphasised the nicest pair of knees and legs I had seen in a long while. Both her hands were occupied with a smart thin briefcase and an expensive-looking black leather handbag. I think I smiled back at her, more in embarrassment than welcome, while desperately trying to place her from recent acquaintances, former work colleagues, wives of friends, mums from the school run or customers of the gym I had recently joined. She'd look better than good in running shorts, I thought, without a doubt.

No, nothing, complete blank, didn't know her from Eve. She apparently knew me, that much was obvious. Perhaps she was a messenger from the solicitors who had been shown my photo?

Sorry? I said dumbly. There was something intangibly familiar about her, but it escaped me. I tried to work out where I might