Geraldine often writes short stories for magazines. Here are two of her latest short stories plus an award-winning story which was written by her son, Christopher Brosnahan (also an author!) which was published  by SFX Magazine. Click here to read Christopher Story..

Hunky Dory

The last track on the UB40 album halted, highlighting the squeaks from the 'Sky-glider' machine and the panting and groaning from the two women. They continued to exercise for a few more moments then came to a halt, breathless and laughing as they looked across Paula's sitting-room at each other. "What are we like?" Kate giggled. "Desperate housewives or what?" "God, I'm nearly killed!" Paula said, extricating herself from the 'Ab-Strengthener'. "I won't be able to move in the morning." Kate started bending each leg up towards her chest, in a vague cooling-down ritual. "You should fit into that interview suit easily now, no problem." She gave a few deep breaths. "Has Frank noticed any difference yet?" "You must be joking," Paula said, rolling her eyes. "He wouldn't notice if I walked up the main street naked with a flower up my nose or anywhere else." She fleetingly thought of copying Kate's cooling-down movements, but moved across the room and flopped into an armchair instead. Kate was twisting sidewards now. "He must have noticed. You've lost nearly a stone. Surely he must feel the difference when you're in bed?" "He doesn't take the time to notice anything about me when he's in the mood," Paula commented wryly, "which is rarely these days. It's as quick as he can get it over and done with." Read More...

Katherine recognised the striking looking man crossing the hotel foyer towards her. She put her coffee cup down on the table and waited. "Katherine? It has to be you . " His dark eyes were firmly fixed on her, oblivious the other men and women at the table. The same eyes that had watched her all those years ago. Across lecture rooms, across the students' dining hall, across lawns sprinkled with purple and yellow crocuses. Across the smoky bar at night. The dark, teasing eyes she had been afraid to meet. The eyes that would have led her into situations she dared not venture. The eyes that would have led her into bed and away from her safe, long-time boyfriend, Gerry. Katherine remembered the latte-coloured skin that had made him stand out at University in York when there were few foreign students. The wild dreadlocks now tamed into short curls - maybe an inch and a half long - and glistening under the dimmed hotel lights. The Seventies-style velvet jacket and loon pants now replaced with an expensive dark suit and a tan collarless shirt. How well his dress sense had matured, Katherine thought. How very well everything about him had matured. "Hello, Andrew," she said, turning away from her group now to give him her full attention. Read More...