Historical
The Devil and the Debutant
The Duke of Portland’s affairs were not as far in the dregs as he had originally been led to believe. It took only a little investigating to learn that the estate, all though disorganized and inefficient, was still prosperous and therefore lucrative. It took only a few weeks of browbeating, bribing, and throwing his title about for the people to realize he was no ordinary Duke and that he would not neglect what was his.
By E. J. Strange5 years ago in Fiction
The King Is In Town
The king was in town. Peter had correctly thought that the king’s would bring with him glory and splendour, a mighty army, and a fearsome, awe-inspiring presence that commanded homage. He had naively misunderstood that the king bringing an entourage of soldiers meant that greedy, armed, untouchable men would be prowling the streets, demanding whatever they pleased, and unkind towards resistance.
By Christy Davis5 years ago in Fiction
JACK OF DIAMONDS
Chapter14 (second installment: part 3) iii Claire looked up at what she’d always considered was the elegance of Marlborough House, marvelling at the beauty of it; the ivied gables seemed to give the house an air of grace she felt was missing from many of the other Manor houses in the area. That’s because Marlborough House is the oldest, she told herself. It was a distinction she’d never taken into consideration before, but she knew it made a difference when you worked in a place like this. She’d told Greggson as much when she’d first made arrangements two weeks earlier to bake three dozen pies. Artie had insisted she make the effort, and while Greggson had been reluctant to accept her help at first—and what cook would want her in their kitchen, she wondered?—she’d explained exactly that to Artie, and a week later Greggson had reluctantly agreed.
By ben woestenburg5 years ago in Fiction
Gift to the Gods
Dimitris listened with a panicked mind. He had been summoned to the house by Kyriakos himself. The senator’s courtyards were magnificent and meticulously kept. Dimitris was awed by the archways and hallways he was hurried through by two guards. He could not keep Kyriakos waiting.
By Chelsea Peterson5 years ago in Fiction
JACK OF DIAMONDS
Chap 9 pt2 (IS LOST TO ALL CONVENTION...) Lunch was a sumptuous affair served in a gazebo overlooking the gardens; the only access to it was an outdoor staircase forty feet wide bordered with rhododendron, hyacinth, and azalea no longer in bloom. Artie counted thirty steps before losing count. The gazebo was built on a landing above the garden, its base a wall of solid brickwork stained green by lichen, moss, and time. Artie looked out at the endless passage of walkways, their red and white brickwork meandering through the garden Artie imagined would be a mosaic of colours during the summer. There were decorative benches and delicately made arbours that were almost hidden in tight recesses. Two streams of water tumbled down two troughs of broken stones—the water eagerly catching the afternoon sun in a cascade of colours. Willow trees wept in the distance, near a greenhouse, their tentacled branches dancing in a light breeze, scratching at the sky—but the sky was a clear blue, what few clouds there were earlier, blown out to sea long ago.
By ben woestenburg5 years ago in Fiction
My Deception
The Second World War was a mess for the whole world, but the role I played in it was particularly deceptive. I was born and raised in Germany and lived there for about fourteen years of my life. Once I understood more about the world around me, a fascist leader was coming into power, and I was manipulated to change my entire life. My accent had to change, my clothing, my family, and my friends all had to change. The men who made me do all this had me believe it would all be so easy. I didn’t know I would be helping cause so much pain and distress.
By Pseudo Nym5 years ago in Fiction
JACK OF DIAMONDS
(In The Afternoon With A Faun...) i Artie carried the boxes up the stairs, looking every bit the servant he felt he was, watching Agatha ahead of him trying to fit the key into the door. The Inn was typical for a village the size of Chumley, he supposed; no more than six rooms, with a narrow hallway, a wooden floor worn out through years of use, and the walls painted a faded yellow. Three new electric fixtures lit the hallway, as well as four large windows letting in the late afternoon light.
By ben woestenburg5 years ago in Fiction
The Man with the Cart
Walter was a strong hulk of a man who was used to trundling his cart over the drawbridge and through the imposing entrance gate of the Tower of London, with the rotting heads of traitors looking down at him from the stakes on to which they had been thrust.
By John Welford5 years ago in Fiction
Put That Light Out
It might be thought that the idea of night-time blackouts in the United Kingdom as a form of civilian protection during wartime originated in World War Two with the legal requirement to hide all lights that might be spotted by would-be aerial bombers. Those who remember the TV comedy series “Dad’s Army” will recall the cry of “Put That Light Out” that was regularly issued by William Hodges, the long-suffering ARP warden.
By John Welford5 years ago in Fiction
