Gemotions

The antique typewriter, which he'd painstakingly restored, clacked merrily beneath Silas's fingers. He grinned, feeling a delicious kind of bubble inside. The manuscript he held was a genuine lost treasure, it turned out. His favourite author, the famously reclusive Evelyn Blackwood, had not written the book at all. Silas, a small-time librarian, had just found the real author's notes. And he was certain that Blackwood had stolen it.

He imagined the uproar. The literary world in disarray, Evelyn Blackwood's reputation crumbling like a stale cookie. The image sent a fizzy tingle down his spine. He poured himself a glass of sherry, a naughty gleam in his eyes.

He began, with a light flourish, his own manuscript. A new story, a delicious secret revealed.