New Release! NATHANIEL AND SOPHIA HAWTHORNE: OUR DESTINED BOND

I'm very happy to announce my latest release, NATHANIEL AND SOPHIA

 HAWTHORNE: OUR DESTINED BOND, about the Hawthornes' storybook romance

 with a paranormal twist.

UNIVERSAL LINK 

About NATHANIEL AND SOPHIA HAWTHORNE

Salem, Massachusetts witnessed horrific and shameful events in 1692 that haunted

 the town for three centuries. Accused as witches, nineteen innocent people were

 hanged and one was pressed to death. Judge John Hathorne and Reverend

 Nicholas Noyes handed down the sentences. One victim, Sarah Good, cursed

 Noyes from the hanging tree: “If you take away my life, God will give you blood to

 drink!” She then set her eyes on Judge Hathorne. “I curse you and your

 acknowledged heirs for all time on this wicked earth!” Hathorne was not only Sarah

 Good’s merciless judge; he also fathered her son Peter and refused to

 acknowledge him. 

In 1717, Nicholas Noyes choked on his own blood and died. Every generation after the judge continued to lose Hathorne land and money, prompting the rumor of a family curse. By the time his great great grandson Nathaniel was born, they faced poverty. 

Ashamed of his ancestor, Nathaniel added the ‘w’ to his last name. His novels and stories explore his beliefs and fears of sin and evil, and he based many of his characters on overbearing Puritan rulers such as Judge Hathorne. 

When Nathaniel first met Sophia Peabody, they experienced instantaneous mutual attraction. Sparks flew. He rose upon my eyes and soul a king among men by divine right, she wrote in her journal.

But to Sophia’s frustration, Nathaniel insisted they keep their romance secret for three years. He had his reasons, none of which made sense to Sophia. But knowing that he believed Sarah Good’s curse inflicted so much tragedy on his family over the centuries, she made it her mission to save him. Sarah was an ancestor of Sophia’s, making her and Nathaniel distant cousins—but she kept that to herself for the time being.

Sophia suffered severe headaches as a result of childhood mercury treatments. She underwent routine mesmerizing sessions, a popular cure for many ailments. Spirits sometimes came to her when mesmerized, and as a spiritualist and medium, she was able to contact and communicate with spirits. She knew if she could reach Sarah and persuade her to forgive Judge Hathorne, Nathaniel would be free of his lifelong burden.

Sarah’s son Peter had kept a journal the family passed down to the Peabodys. Sophia sensed his presence every time she turned the brittle pages and read his words. John Hathorne’s legitimate son John also kept a journal, now in the Hawthorne family’s possession. Living on opposite sides of Salem, Peter and John wrote in vivid detail about how the Salem trials tormented them throughout their lives.

Nathaniel finally agreed to announce their engagement, and married Sophia on July 9, 1842. They moved into their first home, The Old Manse in Concord, Massachusetts. Wanting nothing else but to spend the summer enjoying each other, we became Adam and Eve, alone in our Garden of Eden, Sophia wrote in her journal.

As success eluded Nathaniel, they lived on the verge of poverty. After being dismissed from his day job at the Salem Custom House, he wrote The Scarlet Letter, which finally gained him the recognition he deserved.

But the curse he believed Sarah cast on his family still haunted him. On a visit to his  cousin Susannah Ingersoll at The House of the Seven Gables, Sophia spotted a judge’s gavel. Out of curiosity Sophia picked it up and a shock ran through her as if electrified. She dropped it, instantly knowing it carried something evil. Susannah told her Judge Hathorne had used it during the trials.

Sophia urged Nathaniel to write a novel about the house, knowing it would be cathartic for him. While they lived in Lenox, Nathaniel finished writing The House of the Seven Gables. The Gothic novel explored all his fears and trepidations about the curse. He told Sophia, “Writing it, and especially reading it aloud to you lifted a tremendous burden off my shoulders. I felt it physically leave me. I carried this inside me since my youth and couldn’t bring it out to face it. And I have you, and only you, to thank.”

But he did not believe the curse could be lifted. 

At that moment Sophia knew what she needed to do. “We’re going to The Gables. Only there can I make sure Sarah forgives the judge.” She invited renowned spiritualist John Spear to The Gables. She explained that she needed to complete one final step to convince Nathaniel the curse was lifted.

At The Gables, John asked Susannah if anything in the room was connected to the witch trials. She retrieved the gavel and handed it to him. As John curled his fingers around the handle, he told them that the judge suffered lifelong anguish after condemning the victims. He didn’t publicly atone because he needed to carry out his duties as a judge. His energy, his essence, was still attached to the gavel.

He told Nathaniel that his belief in the curse fed this object, physically creating a monster.

Sarah herself did not curse his family—but the energy of all the anger, bitterness, venom and hatred in her words survived the centuries. That caused the misfortunes that befell him and his family. Only his final and unconditional forgiveness would end that. He urged Nathaniel to forgive Judge Hathorne. “You don’t have to say it out loud,” John said. “Just forgive him in your heart.”

Nathaniel bowed his head and whispered his forgiveness.

A ghostly mist formed in the doorway. Sarah conveyed to Sophia through the ether what she needed them to know. As she faded to nebulous mist and vanished, Sophia assured Nathaniel that his forgiveness of the judge now balanced out the suffering of the victims. 

She turned to the last page of Peter’s journal and saw words that were not there before: Dear John, I forgive you. Signed, Sarah Good.      

John Spear, Nathaniel and Sophia went to Judge Hathorne’s gravesite to give the journals and the gavel proper burial.

As they turned to leave, Nathaniel grasped her hand. “We’re going home, my Dove. And I don’t mean Salem or the Berkshires, but to where you and I started, as Adam and Eve. Back home. To our Garden of Eden in Concord.”

 

Read About My 1894 New York Romance FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET With an Italian Holiday Recipe

 

Happy Holidays With a Genuine Italian Recipe

 

Can an Italian sweatshop worker and an Irish cop fall in love on Manhattan’s Lower East Side in 1894? The answer is a big YES, and once they’re enjoying wedded bliss in their Greenwich Village brownstone, they spend their first Christmas together feasting on her strufoli (Italian for honey balls). 

In FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET it's 1894 on New York's Lower East Side. Irish cop Tom McGlory and Italian immigrant Vita Caputo fall in love despite their different upbringings. They know their love can survive poverty, hatred, and corruption. 

getBook.at/NewYorkSagaBookOne

Here’s Vita’s Honey Balls recipe: 

When my grandparents came from Naples and landed at Ellis Island in the early 1900s they brought many recipes with them, but only in their heads. No one brought cookbooks or recipes along with their possessions. A favorite Christmas treat is Struffoli, better known as Honey Balls. One Christmas when I was a kid, I watched my grandmother make them and scribbled down the ingredients as she sifted and mixed and baked and drizzled. Here's an accurate recipe in English!

Ingredients
Dough:
•2 cups flour, plus extra for dusting
•1 large lemon, zested (about 2 teaspoons)
•1/2 large orange, zested (about 2 teaspoons)
•3 tablespoons sugar
•1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
•1/4 teaspoon baking powder
•1/2 stick (2 ounces) unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces, at room temperature
•3 large eggs
•1 tablespoon white wine, such as pinot grigio
•1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
•Canola oil, for frying
•1 cup honey
•1/2 cup sugar
•1 tablespoon lemon juice
•1 1/2 cups hazelnuts, toasted (see Cook's Note)
•Vegetable oil cooking spray
•Sugar sprinkles, for decoration
•Powdered sugar for dusting, optional

Directions

For dough: In the bowl of a food processor, pulse together 2 cups of flour, lemon zest, orange zest, sugar, salt, and baking powder. Add the butter and pulse until the mixture resembles a coarse meal. Add the eggs, wine, and vanilla. Pulse until the mixture forms into a ball. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Cut the dough into 4 equal pieces. On a lightly floured surface, roll out each piece of dough until 1/4-inch thick. Cut each piece into 1/2-inch wide strips. Cut each strip of pastry into 1/2-inch pieces. Roll each piece of dough into a small ball the size of a hazelnut. Lightly dredge the dough balls in flour, shaking off any excess. In a large heavy-bottomed saucepan, pour enough oil to fill the pan about a third of the way. Heat over medium heat until a deep-frying thermometer inserted in the oil reaches 375 degrees F. (If you don't have a thermometer a cube of bread will brown in about 3 minutes.). In batches, fry the dough until lightly golden, about 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate to drain. (The rested and quartered dough can also be rolled on a floured work surface into 1/2-inch thick logs and cut into equal-sized 1/2-inch pieces. The dough pieces can then be rolled into small balls and fried as above).

In a large saucepan, combine the honey, sugar, and lemon juice over medium heat. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally, until the sugar is dissolved, about 3 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat. Add the fried dough and hazelnuts and stir until coated in the honey mixture. Allow the mixture to cool in the pan for 2 minutes.
Spray the outside of a small, straight-sided water glass with vegetable oil cooking spray and place in the center of a round platter. Using a spoon or damp hands, arrange struffoli and hazelnuts around the glass to form a wreath shape. Drizzle remaining honey mixture over the struffoli. Allow to set for 2 hours (can be made 1 day in advance). Decorate with sprinkles and dust with powdered sugar.

Remove the glass from the center of the platter and serve.

Note: To toast the hazelnuts, arrange in a single layer on a baking sheet. Bake in a preheated 350 degrees F oven 8 to 10 minutes. Cool before using.

Total Time: 4 hr 12 min
Prep: 1 hr 30 min
Yield: 8 to 10 servings

Meet Award-Winning Author Joie Lesin and Read About Her New Paranormal Romance Novel THE PASSENGER

 

THE PASSENGER, a 1940s ghost story set in the California wine country, tells a tale of family connections, life-changing choices, and love—lost and found.

ABOUT JOIE:

Joie Lesin is my fellow Wild Rose Press author, a lifelong fiction writer and poet. She is most recently the author of The Passenger (The Wild Rose Press, 2024), and her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She has long been fascinated by anything otherworldly including mermaids and ghosts. Joie writes character-driven, emotional, atmospheric tales about heartache and hope.

What’s It All About, Joie? 

The Passenger is the story of Elizabeth Reilly, a young widow and an empath who communicates with ghosts. She doesn’t just hear them. No, they appear to her as if alive. After losing her husband as a casualty of WW2 and a chance encounter with a dying man, she befriends the dying man’s ghost. To help her friend pass on in peace, she travels from her home in Boston to California’s wine country. There she discovers her task won’t be so easy. To help her friend, she must first help the living family he left behind. 

What Inspired Me? 

To set the stage for what inspired The Passenger, I need to tell you a bit about myself as a teenager. I used to make up stories in my mind for strangers I would encounter. I instinctively knew every single person had something they were dealing with—be it big or small. I would play the "what if" game, and I would tell their story. My mind would spin—asking the questions, creating the backstory, and discovering the inciting incident. 

On the day I met my ghost, Paolo, I was on the city bus on the way home from school playing my game when I noticed a man sitting at the back of the bus who seemed a bit down on his luck. I wondered, what if he were alone in the world? What would happen if this man collapsed there on the bus? Would he die right there on that bus alone? What if I, or someone else, comforted him in his dying moments? 

Do you know where I am going with this? 

Yes, this is how I met Paolo Clemente. The story I told silently in my mind planted the seeds for the story that would become THE PASSENGER. 

How Do I Do It? 

Well, I’m analytical and like to plan, plot, track, and categorize my tasks. I don’t do this with my books. When I write, I take full advantage of my working imagination. I let the story lead the way. I have an idea of the major plot points—that I may or may not write down because they live in my head. Then I write from plot point to plot point, filling in the gaps and puzzling it all together. 

When Do I Write It? 

After many years of fitting in writing during stolen moments and at night when everyone else was asleep, I am now writing full-time. A benefit of my current schedule means I can plan and plot to write first thing in the morning. However, I still find myself writing by the light of the moon more days than not. 

I plan to keep trying to change my ways though. 

What’s Next for My Writing? 

I’m working on the final draft of the story that takes place two decades after The Passenger ended. Like its predecessor, it’s a ghost story. What I can share about it now is: It’s 1969 and the ghosts are gathering.

Blurb: 

She’s a 1940s ghost whisperer. 

Burdened with her empathic gift, Elizabeth Reilly wants to be free of it and fit in with normal people. Nevertheless, when the spirit of an old man asks for her help, she travels across the country to help him return home. 

He’s the son of a ghost. 

Gio Clemente is still angry with his father who abandoned him as a child. To help the father pass on, Elizabeth must persuade Gio to let go of his anger. Though he resents her intrusion, they are both stunned to find themselves fighting a profound attraction. 

Elizabeth can accept his headstrong brand of love, but can Gio accept her gift—and believe in her?  

Link to Book Trailer 

Excerpt: 

Elizabeth’s stomach churned in nervous knots. She squirmed on the cloth seat, and her foot twitched. If he heard her erratic heartbeat, he’d realize how frantic she was—and hot. Perspiration built up on her forehead. Grabbing the metal handle, she rolled down the squeaking window, and inhaled the pure air. The fragrances of the forest filled her senses—the resinous scent of pine, the earthiness of soil, and damp detritus of fallen branches and decaying leaves. The surrounding land was alive, vibrant, and something more she couldn’t quite identify. Somehow, the vehicle they drove in and the path it traveled seemed out of place. 

Gravel on the uneven road crunched and ground under the truck’s tires. Elizabeth sat straight in her seat and stole stiff, awkward glimpses at Giovanni. A frown marked his lips. His lean, well-defined face held soulful eyes bringing to her mind images of the sad little boy he must have been. 

A thin red scar stretched down his right cheek and she itched to run a finger along the faded edges. She’d caress his stubble-shadowed chin and tell him how terribly his father missed him. Instead, she stared out the truck window. 

Enormous ancient trees shrouded the road and hid the valley from the rest of the world. Elizabeth closed her eyes to the beauty. She was here, on the way to Paolo’s vineyard with his son, aching to tell Giovanni everything. If she did, he’d send her away, and she’d never be able to help his father. 

Connect with Joie:

Website

Bluesky

Instagram

FB

TikTok

Goodreads Book Page

Purchase THE PASSENGER:

Amazon

Apple Books

B&N

Kobo

 

Meet My Guest Alicia Dean and Read About a Halloween Treat....

Say hi to my guest Alicia Dean and read about a Halloween treat....

It’s Halloween…time to get your spooky on. Every Friday the 13^th, I and 12 other authors each release a stand alone horror short story related to Friday the 13^th. (13 stories, 13 authors…get it?) 😊 The most recent series, #7, was published Friday, June 13, 2025.

Check out my story, Dirty Girl, and the 12 other stories in the series…ONLY 99 cents each!!

About Alicia

At age ten, Alicia Dean wrote her first ever romance (featuring a hero who looked just like Elvis Presley and who shared the name of Elvis’ character in the movie, Tickle Me), and she still has the tattered, pencil-written copy. Alicia is from Moore, Oklahoma, and now lives in Edmond. She has three grown children and a huge network of supportive friends and family. 

Other than reading and writing, her passions are Elvis Presley, MLB, NFL (she almost always works in a mention of one or all three into her stories) and watching (and rewatching) her favorite television shows like Dexter, Justified, Friends, Everybody Loves Raymond, and Breaking Bad. Some of her favorite authors are Michael Connelly, Dennis Lehane, Lee Child, Lisa Gardner, Ridley Pearson, Joseph Finder, and Jonathan Kellerman…to name a few. 

Find Alicia Here

A tragic accident…

A fateful decision…

A horrific weekend they won’t soon forget…

Everet Holcomb is cheating with his sister-in-law, Blair, and the two sneak off for an illicit out of town getaway. While driving down a dark country road, they hit something and are horrified to discover they've killed a young woman. Panicked, they bury the body instead of calling the police, knowing if their spouses learn of their affair, they’ll lose everything.

When Everet’s son brings his new girlfriend home for his college graduation celebration, they notice that something about her seems…off. The odor of dirt emanates from her, but Everet and Blair are the only ones who can smell it. And when Everet almost chokes to death for no apparent reason, they start to wonder…have their misdeeds come back to haunt them? 

Excerpt:

The shovel scraped against a root, the sound amplified in the oppressive silence of the Vermont forest. Everet jumped, his heart hammering against his ribs. He glanced up at Blair, but she seemed unfazed, her features macabre behind the gleam of the flashlight. The light danced across the freshly turned earth, illuminating the ghastly task at hand.

Everet swallowed, the metallic tang of fear coating his tongue. “Do you think this is deep enough?” He hated the tremor in his voice. He hated everything about this.

Blair appraised the hole and gave a curt nod. “Deep enough to hide her.”

He wiped sweat from his forehead, the cool night air doing little to alleviate the clammy heat clinging to his skin. The forest felt alive, watching them with unseen eyes. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent shivers down his spine.

“I just... I keep thinking about her face,” he whispered. “Disfigured beyond recognition. Almost…obliterated.”

Blair huffed a sigh. “Snap out of it, Everet. We don't have time for your guilt trip. We made a mistake. We're fixing it. Now, let’s get her in the ground and be done with it.”

He knew she was right, logically. But logic had abandoned him the moment the sickening thud echoed through the quiet road, the moment he saw the young woman lying lifeless in front of the car.

He gripped the girl’s feet and Blair picked her up by the shoulders, and they eased her into the hole. He took some solace in the fact they’d placed her there gently rather than tossing her in like discarded trash. But then, that would be small comfort to the friends and family who would never know what happened to their loved one.

He began shoveling the loose dirt on top of her body, when a sound came to him. A low, keening moan that seemed to emanate from the very earth beneath his feet. He froze, his shovel clattering to the ground.

“What was that?” he stammered, his eyes wide with terror.

Blair paused, her head cocked. “Probably just an animal. Get back to work.”

But Everet couldn't move. The moan came again, closer this time, laced with an unearthly sorrow that resonated deep within his bones. He recalled what he’d read about Agatha. About how she’d vowed vengeance on evildoers. Well, weren’t him and Blair evildoers? It didn’t get much more evil than what they’d done.

“For God’s sake,” Blair bit out. She snatched the shovel from where it lay and finished covering the girl with dirt. When she was done, she looked at him, and a hint of sympathy shone in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Everet. I know I sound callous, but I don’t mean to be. It’s the only way I’m able to keep it together. Yes, what happened was tragic. But our going to jail, losing everything, hurting the people who love us would only compound the tragedy. Nothing can be done to bring the poor girl back. The best thing for everyone is just to move on and try to forget this ever happened.”

Everet nodded but didn’t reply. He knew damn well he could never forget this had happened. And if Blair had even an ounce of humanity in her, she wouldn’t be able to either.

Purchase Dirty Girl on Amazon

Find all the stories in the series here

 

Meet Alicia Dean and Read About Dirty Girl, Part of the Friday the 13th Series

 

Thanks for hosting me on your blog, Diana. Today, I’m sharing about a horror short story that is part of a Friday the 13^th series. Each Friday the 13^th, twelve other authors and I publish short horror stories set around Friday the 13^th. It’s been so much fun. We have certain recurring elements in all the stories: a broken mirror, 13 chapters, a person must die on or a body must be found on Friday the 13^th, and the killer and/or victims must have 13 letters in their name.

The most recent series released on June 13^th and my story is titled

Dirty Girl…

Available on KU OR only 99 cents to purchase!!

 About Alicia

At age ten, Alicia wrote her first ever romance (featuring a hero who looked just like Elvis Presley and who shared the name of Elvis’ character in the movie, Tickle Me), and she still has the tattered, pencil-written copy. Alicia is from Moore, Oklahoma, and now lives in Edmond. She has three grown children and a huge network of supportive friends and family. 

Other than reading and writing, her passions are Elvis Presley, MLB, NFL (she almost always works in a mention of one or all three into her stories) and watching (and rewatching) her favorite television shows like Dexter, Justified, Friends, Everybody Loves Raymond, and Breaking Bad. Some of her favorite authors are Michael Connelly, Dennis Lehane, Lee Child, Lisa Gardner, Ridley Pearson, Joseph Finder, and Jonathan Kellerman…to name a few. 

About Dirty Girl

A tragic accident…

A fateful decision…

A horrific weekend they won’t soon forget…

Everet Holcomb is cheating with his sister-in-law, Blair, and the two sneak off for an illicit out of town getaway. While driving down a dark country road, they hit something and are horrified to discover they've killed a young woman. Panicked, they bury the body instead of calling the police, knowing if their spouses learn of their affair, they’ll lose everything.

When Everet’s son brings his new girlfriend home for his college graduation celebration, they notice that something about her seems…off. The odor of dirt emanates from her, but Everet and Blair are the only ones who can smell it. And when Everet almost chokes to death for no apparent reason, they start to wonder…have their misdeeds come back to haunt them?

Excerpt

The rain pelted down harder, slapping against the windshield like a tsunami. He turned the wipers higher, but they were fighting a losing battle. He could barely see through the downpour. Fortunately, they were close to the Airbnb. Everet gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles bleached bone white in the dashboard glow. The green numbers of the clock read 1:30 a.m. The narrow road curved like a snake’s spine, lit only by the twin spears of his high beams.

Peering through the windshield, he could just make out the lights of the Airbnb. Relief coursed through him. Almost there…

Then, a flash of something white coming out of the woods caught his attention. A hard thumping sound was followed by the vehicle jolting violently. He slammed his foot on the brakes.

Blair screamed. “Did you hit something?”

Everet’s voice came out in a raspy quiver. “Yeah. I think so. Some…animal.” But he knew it wasn’t an animal. It was walking upright. And he’d seen the flash of a pale face right before the impact.

He slid the gearshift into park, then reluctantly climbed from the Lexus. On trembling legs he sloshed through the rain to the front of the car. There, in the road five feet ahead, lay a still figure.

He let out a strangled cry and rushed over, dropping to his knees. Long rain-soaked hair flowed behind her. Her white blouse was splattered with blood, and her body lay at an unnatural angle.

 Please don’t let her be dead. Please don’t let her be dead.

 He was barely aware of movement behind him.

“What the fu--?” Blair said. “Is she…is she okay?”

With dread, Everet took the girl’s shoulders and gently turned her over. Bile rose to his throat when he saw the mangled face.

Purchase Dirty Girl on Amazon

Connect With Alicia

https://linktr.ee/AliciaDean1835 

Find all the Friday the 13^th Series #7 Stories Here: 

https://linktr.ee/Fridaythe13thHorrorStories_7

Please like our Facebook page where we share content about us and the stories:

https://www.facebook.com/Fri13thShortStories

And find us on Instagram as well:

https://www.instagram.com/fridaythe13thhorror

 

 

 

Meet My Guest J.A. Schneider and Read About Her Suspense Thriller THE GIRL THIEF

I met Joyce after I read her author bio on Amazon--it captured my interest--I thought, wow, I'd like to meet her--so I contacted her. She graciously accepted my invite to be my blog guest and feature THE GIRL THIEF, which I purchased after meeting her, but have to finish one more book before I get to it--looking forward to delving in!

So enjoy meeting Joyce!

About Joyce

Joyce is a former writer at Newsweek and the author of multiple murder mysteries and psychological thrillers. She has studied at the Sorbonne and been an exchange student in the Soviet Union. Now her idea of more than enough excitement is writing thrillers and gardening (chasing off deer and using a crowbar to get out stubborn rocks). She lives with her family and two funny dachshunds in Connecticut. To write Joyce or find more of her thrillers, check out jaschneiderauthor.net. Thanks for reading!

About THE GIRL THIEF

Ensnared into the lives of a troubled, wealthy couple - or is she? A caterer's assistant finds herself entangled in the dark secrets of a troubled glamorous couple, navigating danger while harboring her own hidden agenda.

Excerpt

Prologue

I shouldn’t be doing this.

It’s late. I’m limp from fatigue but find myself standing out in the hall, feeling torn. Because tonight is my only chance to essentially be alone in this house. Kate is in bed drunk and will be out of it for at least overnight, and the housekeeper won’t be back until morning. The police could be back too.

What do I do with this chance?

 

The hall is nearly dark, with just one sconce lit. I look around, feeling my pulse quicken. The whole house is deathly quiet.

Something thuds, and I jump. “Oh!”

My eyes dart around. Someone coming? The noise sounded near, and a sick feeling shoots through me.

Thump! There it is again. A low sound coming from…down the hall? Panic stirs, but I have to know. I pass closed bedroom doors on the right and left, knowing that this is crazy. Frightening, but my feet keep moving as I strain to listen.

I hear the thud again and jerk my gaze up. That sound came from over my head.

The attic.

I remember Kate opening the attic door, wrinkling her nose and closing it again. No one goes up there. It’s too creepy.

Common sense tells me to - forget this! Quit while I’m ahead and get some sleep! But I know I won’t sleep. Not with this one night to look around…

On wobbly legs I reach the hall’s backstairs landing, and turn to the attic door. It is cracked open. My heart pounds but compulsion rules, so I get out my phone, flick on its light, and open the door into darkness.

My beam lights the musty steps. I start up – and hear that thud again. Only now it’s louder. My lips go dry. Cold dread shoots through me.

At the top of the stairs, I shine my light shakily through a dark vastness of stacked trunks and ghostly, sheet-covered shapes. Roof beams slant low at the edges, and at the far end is a tall, arched window emitting thin moonlight.

Surprise, the thudding is coming from it! I move closer, shifting my light to the moonlit glass, and my shoulders relax. A breeze gusts through a low, broken pane covered flimsily by a tied board. Thud…thud…

My, this house is full of things that go bump in the night. I breathe again, but the sound is still frightening.

Shapes to my right loom. I shine my light on an old dressmaker’s mannequin, and a long rack holding clothes covered with dry cleaner plastic. Outdated-looking dresses, men’s suits, an old-fashioned tuxedo and …

I let out a strangled gasp.

My light jumps as I see what is hanging there. I lurch backward, shoulders heaving with my free hand clapped to my mouth - just as a hideous shriek tears through the air. I freeze in shock for seconds, can’t move. The shriek sounds again.

Someone is dying, brutally. Where? Frantically, I whirl my light around, seeing no one.

Horror bolts through me as I wheel away and fly down the stairs. From the landing I race down the hall stumbling, trembling uncontrollably.

Purchase THE GIRL THIEF

Connect With Joyce--Webpage

Facebook

Facebook Author Page

Goodreads

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BookBub 

Insta

 

An Anthology of Sweet Romances--Nine Ladies Dancing--Read About it and Meet the Authors

As I planned a blog exchange with author Patricia Kiyono, she told me about the Dingbat Publishing anthology...so in this exchange I got more than I bargained for!

For the past several years, Dingbat Publishing has compiled a collection of sweet holiday romances set during England’s Regency period. For 2024, seven authors contributed to the anthology, called Nine Ladies Dancing. Here are the authors (their names are linked to their websites) and their stories:

 

Elizabeth Hanbury presents "A Knight to the Rescue" — Jessica and Richard start off their acquaintance on entirely the wrong note. How can they learn to sing in tune?

Vivian Roycroft and "His Christmas Proposal" — Helena Whittle used to adore riding. Then she was thrown from a strange horse, and her life, her confidence, and even her engagement fell apart. Can she find room in her broken heart for a second chance at love?

Kay Springsteen and "The Maid's Christmas Miracle" — Servants were seldom able to marry. Can a miracle in a stable change their lives forever?

Jenna Jaxon and "A Match Made at Christmas" — Sophia promised to let her grandmother select her husband. Then she met the man of her dreams.

Patricia Kiyono and "Bugs, Bluestockings, and Beginnings" — If only there was a way for Elizabeth to support herself with her scientific knowledge — and of course love was the furthest thought from her mind.

Ruth J. Hartman and "Romancing the Dustman's Daughter" — Augustus Sinclair makes Anne believe in love and romance, even if he is wealthy and she is just the dustman’s daughter. A delightful retelling of the Cinderella story.

Felicia Rogers and "Rented One Christmas" — The ruse Mira's employer is asking of her is so crazy, it could ruin her life forever. Does she dare? And if she does, can she stop herself from falling in love?

Where did the ideas for their stories come from? Here are some of their responses:

ELIZABETH HANBURY: The inspiration for “A Knight to the Rescue” came from the popularity of the waltz in Regency times, despite it being seen as scandalous among some high society people. I thought it would be fun to have a heroine living in Bath who composed waltzes, and a wealthy hero who disguised himself as an artist to avoid fortune hunters - as well as help the woman of his dreams!  

FELICIA ROGERS: One day my daughter mentioned how many children my sister has and that she could rent them out.  It got to me to thinking... what if someone needed a family but didn't have one.  They could rent one!  And the story (“Rented One Christmas” was born.

PATRICIA KIYONO: A few years ago, Dingbat Publishing planned a multi-author series about a winter garden in the Highgate area of London. Ruth J. Hartman wrote a story in which the main characters create a home for bluestocking ladies, and I decided to continue the story, because of course the home would need someone to coordinate educational activities at this home! I had fun with Elizabeth, an out-of-work governess, and Benjamin, an entomologist. 

Nine Ladies Dancing is available only at Amazon