Behind the death of a person, a building or a place, life goes on; sometimes opening up into another world altogether. Who's to say that world cannot exist? 'Mitzi', 'Reading Between the Lines' and 'The Evans Hotel' are some of the stories which transcend the concept that the line between life and death is definite.

As a painter and writer, a 'sense of place' is the palette on which Anne Forrester paints colourful word pictures: some darker than others. Rural, North Wales is rich in beautiful scenery and perfect for stealing behind to see what lies beyond the beauty: how has Jackdaw Lavender Jones lived so contentedly in the quarry woods within easy reach of his father's remains? What kind of an existence has Winnie Eventide lived, trapped within her undead life in a Welsh Woollen Mill storeroom? And Quinn - does he protect the two brothers from learning about their dead Mam's sexual secrets?

On the wrong side of the tracks, on banks of the Atchafalaya River in the USA, how does young Febby Time plan to escape the claustrophobic, domestic danger of her swampland shack? And Mostyn - how well does the short-story writer fare, exploring the Texas panhandle in his horse-driven wagon, for 'deep 'n' dark tales with little promise of a happy ending' for his publisher?

In Ireland, why is Mary McAllister still nursing the Infant Jesus fifty years after her own baby died?

In this book of fiction, any resemblance to settings or persons living or dead is purely inevitable.