Historical

The Foundling and His Keeper
It looked rather like a dog. It was about that size, at least, and crawled on four legs. It wore a wrought iron collar, which chafed so that the soft hide below its jaw had all shed and lymph sat slick on the raw flesh. That bothered it little now. Now its fetter was broken, and embers were on the air. It was cold, but the winter chill held small sway. The season was dry and dead leaves sat in tall heaps like the bulbs of an hourglass on the forest floor, growing all the time. The whole thing was poised to go up. Tinder for a thousand-thousand oak trunks swirling into one unending firestorm. It had to get out. Flames were something it had never mastered. It had shunned fire ever since its skin blistered under the hot brand behind the auction block. Fire was something to be feared and certainly was an unwelcome sight even as it crackled from the wagons of the covetous menfolk in disarray behind it. “Away” was the only thought that hung in its mind. Upwind and quickly.
By Andrés3 years ago in Fiction
A plague of imps
Stumbling along alone, the child struggles to make progress through a clearing in the forest, oblivious to the whump, whump, whump of great wings swopping down from behind him. He is almost relieved to feel the creature’s long talons close around his shoulders, the great strength of the beast lifting him up into the air. His only reaction is to glance around at the scaly head of the monster, momentarily connecting his gaze with that of the reptilian eyes of his captor. A barely perceptible mutual nod seals the understanding between them before the winged serpent curls its neck around and down to the child’s face, connecting its course mouth with the infant’s gentle lips. A mush of welcome nourishment is exchanged. Satisfied, the child returns his gaze to the ground receding beneath him.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
A Christmas Wedding
A CHRISTMAS WEDDING CHAPTER 1 Aurora turned from one side of her bed to the other; she could barely catch a wink of sleep. Her thoughts would not let her even if she wanted to, something about her had changed. A spark had been ignited. She would not understand how she had been so affected by a stranger she met in the woods.
By Very Sweet Romance 3 years ago in Fiction
Forever Christmas Love
FOREVER CHRISTMAS LOVE CHAPTER 1 Lady Madeline Fitzroy stepped back from the gold candle stand on the mantel after the tiny flame wavered into a burning light joining the other scented candles to illuminate the bedchamber. This casted a glow on her raven silky hair, giving the bedchamber that nostalgic Beachwood vetiver and sea spray driftwood smell.
By Very Sweet Romance 3 years ago in Fiction
Forever Christmas Love
FOREVER CHRISTMAS LOVE CHAPTER 1 Lady Madeline Fitzroy stepped back from the gold candle stand on the mantel after the tiny flame wavered into a burning light joining the other scented candles to illuminate the bedchamber. This casted a glow on her raven silky hair, giving the bedchamber that nostalgic Beachwood vetiver and sea spray driftwood smell.
By Very Sweet Romance 3 years ago in Fiction
A New Holiday Season
A NEW HOLIDAY SEASON CHAPTER 1 Gregory Moordale stared at the high walls that surrounded the hall. They were covered in caper lilies, like he had requested. He looked down from the stairs and assessed the hall. The staff had done it justice. Its entire ambience was befitting of Christmas, the duke’s favorite time of the year. There were popcorn strings, stockings over a beautiful fireplace, a giant gingered cookie house and even an attention commanding tree right in the middle of the hall. If there was one thing the Duke of Birmingham knew how to do, it was throw a ball. Not just any ball, the one that would be the talk of the ton for many a night.
By Very Sweet Romance 3 years ago in Fiction
The Christmas Delivery
THE CHRISTMAS DELIVERY CHAPTER 1 Choices, they say, are like human brains, even when we are confronted by the most difficult situations, we still have them. Unfortunately, not everyone acknowledges this sheer fact.
By Very Sweet Romance 3 years ago in Fiction
A Second Chance Holiday
A SECOND CHANCE HOLIDAY CHAPTER 1 Not only was Adam Walker thrilled by the utter silence of his castle, he was impressed by his thoughtfulness to have created it.
By Very Sweet Romance 3 years ago in Fiction
Hating Christmas
HATING CHRISTMAS? CHAPTER 1 The house was bland. There were no popcorn strings, trees nor stockings. There was no smell coming from a gingerbread house as though there was in fact none in the neighborhood. No carols to sing, no trees to decorate and no family to spend time with.
By Very Sweet Romance 3 years ago in Fiction
Entries From Douglas A. Lawson's Private Journal
Preface In 1971, Douglas A. Lawson - paleontologist and at the time a graduate student at UT Austin - made a discovery that would revolutionize our understanding of the evolution of flight. The following excerpts from his private journal have survived time and oblivion, and are revealed to the public for the very first time.
By Claire Guérin3 years ago in Fiction
Silver Line of Power
A fiery rain poured over my head at sunrise as the field artillery fired from the other side, sending their led balls hurdling towards us. All I wanted was to get out alive. This dreadful war was the worst thing I had gone through. It was worse than when three of my cousins died the same day of cholera. If only the South would just surrender. They were on the path to defeat, why delay the inevitable and cause more death. They called what we were doing ‘Northern aggression,’ but I had called what they were doing land theft. Jefferson Davis was the one who wanted to break off from the union, but maybe Lincoln could make a few concessions, give the South some of their own land in exchange for every slave and draftee on their side being freed. I had no preference as to which side won, I just hated fighting. I was no cowardly deserter though. I had fought gallantly with my honor and integrity intact.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Anderson's Prize
Winston lay weeping like so many times before. The toddler loved the woods so much his passion got ahead of him: he was alone. He looked this way and that - craving the sight of the mother he just left, and wept face down in the leaves. In the never-ending forest, nothing else mattered but mommy. Not the sunlight beaming upon his face, not the perfect October afternoon, not even the brilliant color fall held around the curled little boy. He shook, a helpless baby sobbing in a wild, foreign world. Yet, the pitiful sound was carried by the breeze, and heard by the most unlikely creature imaginable.
By Aaron Michael Grant3 years ago in Fiction