Another story in the Friday the 13th Horror Short Story series…Flamebound Bride by Krysta Scott:
Fun Fact:
Historically, bridal bouquets were made of fragrant herbs and spices to ward off bad luck and evil spirits. In the middle ages, bouquets included flowers to mask body odor.
Blurb:
After a catastrophic first marriage where her husband abandoned her and her daughter, Rachel’s life is finally looking up. She is about to marry the man of her dreams. And the festivities begin at an exclusive hotel the week of Friday the 13. Rachel is determined her life will be better with her fiancé.
But disaster strikes when her ex shows up begging for another chance. Never mind his bad timing, she is now plagued with memories that are not her own and speaking a language she does not know. After a mysterious death, Rachel realizes her circumstances are more complicated than she imagined. Determined to make things right, she must summon her new found power or her daughter may be the next to perish.
Excerpt:
She opened her mouth to call out to him, but no sound emerged. Her fists beat against the invisible barrier. Dark welts formed on her knuckles. Her skin split and pain slithered its way up her arm.
No one shall have you, save I.
A disembodied voice whispered in her ear. Although it was spoken in another language, she recognized the words. She knew it was him. The man who’d tried to possess her. The man she’d refused.
She found her voice and screamed at the air. “I reject you, Nilo. Why can’t you accept that?”
A deep chuckle filled the room.
Her head whipped around as she searched for the sharp cold eyes of her nemesis. He should not be here. He should not interfere. He had no power here. It had all been arranged and decided by her father.
“It is done, Nilo. Not even you can change that.”
Wanna bet?
The fire pit erupted and a strong wind whipped through the tent
About the Author:
Krysta Scott is the author of Shadow Dancer, two novellas in the Martini Club 4 series and seven novellas in the Friday the Thirteenth series. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband and dog.
Please help me welcome today’s guest, Margo Carey…
Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?
Originally from Marblehead, MA, I later moved to Rhode Island with my husband and son. New England holds a special place in my heart. It’s where my imagination led me to write. Today, we live in Southwest Florida with our black cat, Sammy. Though we enjoy riding our bikes, we gave up kayaking after a couple of scaly denizens followed us around then bumped my husband’s boat. However, the positive outweighs the negative. The view from my office is always green. No ice. No snow. My latest pastime is walking and recording ideas for my next book. I enjoy reading paranormal and anything witchy. My favorite TV shows are Elspeth and Tracker. Life is good.
Tell us a little about how you came to write Demon Amulet.
Demon Amulet is set in Newport, RI, one of my favorite places. I created the Watcher Clan series around a mysterious stone tower that some believe was built by the Knights Templar. If so, I wondered if there could be descendants. Might those relatives have psychic powers? When we lived there, my husband was an offshore lobsterman, and I spent a lot of time in the wharf area with wonderful little shops. My characters also love those touristy lanes. I chose the title, Demon Amulet, to reference the story’s lethal magic trinket. Although I had already done intensive research on the Knights Templar for the first book, I found this second book more difficult because I had to discover new ideas: conflicts, story arc, and goals. I do love Google Earth for my setting research. That and Pinterest for photos of people who look like my characters and for ideas on their outfits. Each book can stand alone which means different protagonists and villains. In my first book the protagonist is a young brunette unaware of her family or powers. Her antagonist is a dreamwalker. This second book revolves around a beautiful blonde cousin and a vicious warlock. For the third, a thirty-something redhead goes up against a traitorous member of the Templar council. Of course, each story has the necessary handsome and psychically powerful love interest.
Stone Tower and Me
Are there any tricks, habits or superstitions you have when creating a story?
When I’m looking for a setting, whether it be a house or neighborhood, I always picture someplace I’m familiar with. But, if I don’t know I use the internet. The Brendani estate in this book is in an exclusive neighborhood. Although I’ve ridden by the driveways, I had to get a view of the homes and riverfront property via Google Earth. The apartment in the next book is my sister’s former abode. That way I can picture my characters as they move around.
What book have you read that you wish you had written?
Any one of the Harry Potter books.
What’s your favorite book of all time and why?
“The Agony and the Ecstasy” by Irving Stone. A wonderful narrative about Michaelangelo.
What’s your favorite childhood book?
Nancy Drew. The beginning of my love of mysteries.
Would you rather have a bad review or no review?
As much as I’d hate a bad review, I do want to know what I’ve done or not done to upset a reader. Critiques can be painful, but they help you grow.
What is your favorite quote?
“Nothing you do can change the past. Everything you do can change the future.” Anon.
Your most prized material possession and why?
A beautiful wood jewelry box. My son made it for me.
If you could be a character in any of your books, who would you be?
I’d be Lia Ferguson. She is beautiful, tough, and has a great sense of humor. Oh yes, and she has awesome psychic powers.
What is the toughest criticism given to you as an author? What has been the best compliment?
For me, a criticism I had trouble fixing was “Show. Don’t tell.” I still go back and look for it in my writing. What made me happy was someone telling me that they loved my characters. I also love my characters and try to make that come out on the page.
Tell us Your favorite…
Movie: See No Evil. Hear No Evil. A comedy with Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder
TV show from adulthood: NCIS
Food: Really good french fries
Sports team: Boston Red Sox
A cursed amulet. A deadly warlock. An impossible love.
Excerpt:
Moonlight filtered through the clouds, bathing the Brendani property in swaths of soft light. Lia inhaled the sweet aroma of beach roses carried by the wind. A perfect evening. A shiver unrelated to the weather coursed through her. Would he be waiting?
Gravel crunched under her feet and the bite of chlorine teased her nose as she neared her destination. She paused for a moment to control her erratic breathing. Nerves? Ridiculous. No man had ever disturbed her.
The glow from the changing room lanterns almost reached the pool. The flickering shadows on the liquid grew into waves caused by the powerful strokes of the swimmer. Mesmerized by Aiden’s straining muscles, desire stirred in her belly.
She swallowed and strolled closer. “I see you made it.”
He stopped and looked up, unruffled. She knew he’d been aware of her. Watchers could always sense another’s approach. As the silence lengthened, she reached around to the back of her neck, undid a clasp, and let her cover-up slide down. Aiden’s sharp intake of breath made her skin tingle.
His eyes darkened as they raked over her body. A slow smile played across his face. “Coming in?”
The deep timbre of his voice ignited her desire. She paused for another moment to enjoy the heat simmering between them. Without breaking eye contact, she lowered herself to the pool’s edge and slipped in. The warm water covered all but her bikini top.
“Ooh!” she said as she gazed at him. “It feels so good.”
Her body responded to the naked desire blazing from his eyes. She swam past him to the deep end and turned. He hadn’t moved, but she felt his penetrating gaze follow her.
Poised there in waist-high water, Aiden resembled one of the ancient sea gods.
Margo Carey, an award-winning author, weaves tales of romance and supernatural intrigue. She began her career trying to write cozy mysteries, but the paranormal inevitably slipped in. Rather than fight her muse, she gave in to her pen’s inclination, changed her genre to Paranormal Romance, and titled her website, My Haunted Pen.
Her gripping novel Trace of Evil, a NEST finalist, immerses readers in a haunting romance in Salem, Massachusetts. After her move to Rhode Island, she penned The Convent House, the first in her Watcher Clan series that follows the perils and romance of psychically gifted descendants of the Knights Templar. Readers’ Favorite gave it a five-star review. The second book, Demon Amulet, will be out in June, 2025.
Margo now lives with her husband Paul and their unapologetically spoiled cat, Sammy, in South Florida. Will inspiration for her next book spring from the shadowy, gator-infested swamps where she and her husband kayak? Stay tuned.
Check out another story in the Friday the 13th Horror Short Story series…
Fun Fact:
Ishtar is the perfect demon/goddess to assist the witch, Maara. She is the Mesopotamian goddess of war and sexual love, two qualities (sex and violence) that Maara employs to achieve her ends. Here is a photo of the goddess, who is both alluring and fearsome.
About Devil Redux:
An ancient goddess/demon is brought to life in the service of a witch set on slaughtering a family. Award-winning author Robert Herold spins a frightening yarn of modern horror.
Excerpt:
Instead of his student, a tall, gray, naked woman appeared in the doorway. The woman had wings, and her legs became bird-like below her knees with large, sharp talons that dug grooves into the tiled floor as she moved.
Ishtar come to life?
The creature smiled and uttered something that Hill could not translate.
Hill stood and shook his head, not comprehending what was said. He shivered but also felt the warmth from urine spilling into his pants.
The creature spread her wings. Her face contorted with fury, and she screeched before diving across the room at the professor. She pivoted to present her outstretched claws at the last moment, which struck the professor full-on. Hill flew backward, tipping over his chair and sliding back on the floor until his head struck the radiator. Still conscious, he screamed as the woman’s talons raked across his face, tore into his eyes, and dug long furrows in his cheeks. His jaw tore free. Then she attacked his torso. The pain, white-hot at first, suddenly faded as his body could no longer process the ripping and tearing of flesh. A moment later, he could no longer process anything at all.
About the Author:
Seattleite Robert Herold is the author of the award-winning Eidola Project novels, which follow a team of 19th-century ghost hunters who become engaged in deadly supernatural investigations, and the Seattle Coven Tales, about a grad student who becomes targeted for sacrifice by a modern coven of witches. In addition, Mr. Herold’s work has appeared in anthologies and on the Saturday Evening Post’s website. Several short stories will soon appear in Feral, a German horror comic magazine. Find out more at: https://linktr.ee/robertheroldauthor
Check out this Friday the 13th Horror Short Story…
I have always respected our sons and daughters who go to war to fight for our way of life. I try not to differentiate between wars and conflicts—I leave that to the politicians. Suffice it to say, if called upon to fight, regardless of our government’s motivations, I respect those who must kill or be killed.
Some time ago, I read a compelling story by a well-known author, featuring protagonists and antagonists who were survivors of the Vietnam conflict known as Tunnel Rats. I was so fascinated by what I read that I did some research on it.
Not far from Saigon, now known as Ho Chi Minh City, in the Cu Chi District, the Viet Cong constructed a series of tunnels stretching over 400 kilometers. The tunnels were used to transport troops, supplies, and weapons to launch surprise attacks on the South Vietnamese and allied forces. They also provided a means to evacuate the wounded; in fact, the attacking troops even established underground hospitals. The tunnels were sophisticated in their design, featuring ventilation to minimize the impact of gases and bomb blasts.
Volunteer tunnel rats were recruited from the Australian, New Zealand, and US armies to enter and destroy the tunnels. These rats had to be small in stature because some tunnels had low roofs and narrow walls. They worked in pairs, usually armed only with sound-suppressed pistols and bayonets. They often encountered tethered poisonous snakes, rats, punji spears, and booby traps. If the lead soldier survived such horrors, he would frequently confront the enemy and be forced to fight to the death using only his bayonet. His partner, trailing behind, would set explosive devices to collapse the tunnel if and when they returned to safety above ground.
It is a tragic reality that while many tunnel rats were killed underground, an extraordinarily high number of survivors died, in some cases, years later, due to exposure to Agent Orange and other gases that seeped from the surface.
For a long time, I’ve wanted to write a story about these men and the psychological effects of fighting such terrible battles single-handedly in the dark, confined tunnels riddled with the enemy.
In Bless Me, Father, I was able to feature a man who, after one particularly bloody and gory fight, suffered a mental and physical breakdown and was discharged from the army. He returns home to confront his demons, and with love and family support, he comes back from the brink and becomes a Catholic priest.
Several years later, Father Martin begins to suffer from terrible nightmares involving dead bodies that have been violently killed. Simultaneously, one by one, his parishioners who come to confession are discovered murdered and mutilated. Is Father Martin so psychologically traumatized by his wartime experiences that he is killing his flock, or has a psychopath targeted him?
Check out this story in our Friday the 13th Horror Short Story Series…
Phantom Fair by Raven Lee
Fun fact:
When I was a teenager, a rumor ran rampant through my school that the traveling carnival in a nearby town had a horrible accident on the Gravitron and people were thrown into the midway. It was at that moment; I refused to step foot on another ride that could be folded up and put on a truck.
Where that accident didn’t happen at that carnival in the nearby town, it did happen at the Missouri State Fair that same year, 1991. One of the panels of the Gravitron came off as the ride was slowing. Four children were seriously hurt when they fell 5 feet to the ground and spectators were injured with flying debris.
Thankfully, no one died, but approximately 1,300 people a year are injured in amusement park rides, with a significant portion of those injuries happening on mobile rides like those at fairs and festivals. So, what if those accidents aren’t so accidental? Find out in Phantom Fair.
An avid traveler, Raven Lee, has never met a spooky tale she didn’t love. Ghost towns, haunted houses, or mysterious forest, wherever the story, she is fascinated. When not traveling, she channels her paranormal obsession into writing her own stories, hoping to make you sleep with the light on. Raven haunts northeast Oklahoma with her husband, children, and furry family. Learn more about Raven here: https://linktr.ee/AuthorRavenLee
It’s that time again. In 2020, I had the idea of having a group of 13 authors each write a stand-alone horror short story centered around Friday the 13th and they would release on Friday the 13th. I was fortunate enough to find other authors who were on board. We are now on Series #7. Some of the authors have come and gone and we’ve had new ones take their place, but I’m thrilled that so many have agreed to join our creepy fun.
Check out our latest round of spooky Friday the 13th stories…
Please help me welcome today’s guest, Kim Janine Ligon…
Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?
I grew up in a small town in Wisconsin as the oldest of ten kids. I have six sisters and three brothers. My dad was a veterinarian so we had pets galore. At one point we have six Great Danes, a pug, and three Siamese cats who all lived in the house with (at that time) six kids. Once I went to college and could put on black pants without brushing off animal hair, I never went back to having pets again. I married my college sweetheart while still in college. After living in central and southern Illinois, then Philadelphia, PA, we are now settled in Alabama.
Where did you get the idea for Running To Daylight?
My husband has named this book and three others before this. The only one he didn’t name was my Christmas in the Castle book.
Why did you choose this genre?
This is my fourth cozy romantic mystery. I like the added intrigue beyond the romance. It is the third book set in Lansdale, Wisconsin.
Was there anything unusual, any anecdote about this book, the characters, title, process, etc, you’d like to share?
My sister, Erin, will recognize herself in an encounter at the Purple Cow Drive-in early in the book and The Fox Creek Winery really does exist in Richland County Illinois. My uncle and cousin own it.
What is the most difficult thing about writing a book?
Remembering to SHOW not TELL.
What was the most difficult thing about this one in particular?
Getting used to a new editor after working with the same one on the first four books.
Do you collect anything?
I collect bunny figurines and elephant figurines. The elephant collection grew dramatically when I inherited my mother’s collection.
What was your first job?
Working in my dad’s veterinary clinic. I did everything. I answered phones, scheduled small animal appointments, called on the radio about farmers who needed the veterinarian, cleaned cages for the animals being boarded or recovering, clipped poodles, did inventory, posted charges, and processed bills. It was a lot of different experience and one of the hardest jobs I ever had.
What’s the main thing that you could get rid of in your life that would give you more writing time?
That’s easy—housework—not cleaning because I do very little of that but grocery shopping, laundry, cooking, cleanup, paying bills. All those things are necessary but they are also time consuming. If I became the outstanding housekeeper my mother was washing walls, shampooing carpets, and repainting—I’d never have time to write.
What is your favorite quote?
Winston Churchill said during the blitzes of WWII: “Never, never, never give up.” I think that’s great advice in so many situations in life and, especially, in writing and being published.
What do you want your tombstone to say?
She loved her family and friends fiercely.
Are your characters based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination?
They are parts of real people mashed together. Sometimes I start with a real name and can see a real person as the model, but I modify character traits to fit the story. Sometimes people I know think one of my characters is a mutual friend but I’ve never just lifted someone in total to the pages of my book.
What do your friends and family think of your writing?
They are my biggest cheerleaders and supporters. They signed up for my blog. They are early readers and critics. They buy my books and encourage their friends to buy them too. They love to have their names turn up as a character.
Thank you for joining me and sharing a little about yourself. Now, please tell us about your book.
Blurb:
After ten years in witness protection, Morgan Tucker is hidden no longer. Evil hasn’t been thwarted by a false name or Morgan’s move the small town Lansdale, Wisconsin.
Mark Trask, a veteran of Lansdale’s police force, returns from vacation to find his reclusive housemate, Phil Hughes, missing. The driver of a black pickup truck stalks Mark and nearly kills him. Are they targeting Mark or is it related to Phil’s mysterious disappearance?
Elsie Dennis lives with her older brother, Hubert and operates Knitting Pretty in downtown Lansdale. Unexpected danger plagues the siblings. Why now? Who is behind this evil?
Mark and Elsie are thrown together to solve the mysteries surrounding them and try to determine if they are related to a ten-year-old murder. They encounter evil at every turn as together they find their way toward the daylight.
Excerpt:
It was too late for celebrating. It wasn’t even a relief that Scachhi can no longer hurt me. I couldn’t visit Mom since she’s been gone five years. Cancer was the physician’s diagnostic guess. I knew better. It was loneliness and a broken heart. I couldn’t contact her without The Family finding out. That was against the rules I have had to live by all these years.
I have always been a ‘follow the rules, do the right thing’ person. Always. At all costs. Ten years has been a long time to stay this hazardous course. I have had to watch every step to stay on the straight and narrow never-ending path toward daylight.
I was finally free, but I have nowhere to go. No one was waiting to welcome me back into the bosom of my family. They were all gone. No one knew Morgan Tucker any longer. I sacrificed my life so that my father would get the justice he deserved. I would do it again. It was the right thing—the only choice. Mom understood the truth as well as I did. Perhaps even better.
I testified. The bad guys went to prison. I have been reborn into a new life under the protection of the U.S. Marshals Service. I’m living proof that when you do the right thing everything will work out in the end.
Wait.
Who knew to send me a letter to an address in Lansdale, Wisconsin?
To the new me?
If the sender was only trying to scare me, they have succeeded in spades. Who would still be alive to care where I am? Who I am?
Lord, please don’t leave me. I need your protection now more than ever. Shield me from the darkness. Lead me to the daylight.
Kim Janine Ligon has been writing stories for most of her life—some on paper and some only in her head. She has lots of source material growing up as the oldest child in a large family in a small town in Wisconsin. Her father was a veterinarian so there were not only lots of children around, but all manner of house pets and farm animals, too. Her love of reading comes from her mother who was seldom seen sitting down without a book in her hand. After a demanding career in healthcare information technology, she is now doing all the creative things she loves which includes writing her stories to share with you. She lives with her chief encourager and personal romantic hero, her husband of almost forever, in Alabama. Please follow her further adventures at www.spinningromance.com or contact her at kimjanine@spinningromance.com
The time an angel grabbed me as I toppled over the edge of a bluff on my tenth birthday. I felt their hands, but saw nothing, and was up-righted from a free fall to back on my feet.
The time when as a very young child, I shoved my little brother aside so I could have first dibs on a bowl with the remnants of cake batter inside. I realized then that I didn’t have a bully’s heart and found no pleasure in behaving that way. My brother and I still competed, and I wasn’t always the best big sister, but from then on, I knew who I was and how I was designed.
The time I went to a Neil Diamond concert and realized the audience was almost geriatric. I didn’t enter leaning on a walker, but I had to face that I was no longer a spring chicken.
The time I learned a new language—Sign Language—and had my world opened up to a whole new culture and wealth of friends.
The time(s) I became a parent and realized I wasn’t the center of the universe and there were needs and people more important than mine and me in the world.
The first loss of someone very special and their funeral I couldn’t stop crying at.
The moment in adulthood when my parents suddenly made sense, and I realized they weren’t unreasonable and on earth merely to make my life miserable.
The day I realized my husband was betraying me, and the long trek through the grieving process that followed.
The first sip of real coffee that turned me into a coffee snob, causing me to throw out all store brands, trash my drip coffee maker, and begin to pay for good beans, grind them myself, and spend the time drizzling the perfect temperature of water over a cone of dark grounds.
The moment the Bible suddenly made sense.
Blurb:
Jim Turner writes crime but doesn’t live it. He respects his grandfather’s tales of heroes but doesn’t believe them. When his failing grandfather sends him to a remote peninsula to write the end of his own heroic love story, Jim includes a war criminal interview while there to maintain his edge.
Chastity is an anomaly, a misfit in pre-WWII culture as well as in Jim’s life. Her spritely charm and endearing features turn Jim’s world upside down, especially when she reveals his grandfather’s peninsula as the site of her upcoming wedding.
Do good journalists flee when their interviewee is murdered? Do heroes write fiancés out of another’s story and themselves in? “The End” become the hardest words for Jim to write.
Excerpt:
“So,” Chastity said. “Tell me more about the grandfather who impacted you so much.”
I felt him in the room. Or maybe it was in Grove. Mountain Grove. Or because we had been on his beloved peninsula, she with her yellowish hair. It was as if he joined Chastity and me, and she sensed it too. His hands and heart were in this decrepit building with us, his presence and hers making it feel like a castle instead.
“If it wasn’t for him, who knows where you might be now instead of here helping me.” She squeezed my hand.
How did she know? Because of Grandpa I came to Grove and searched for a peninsula that brought me to Chastity…who actually brought me to it. “My grandfather is a wonderful man… But before we discuss him, there are things you should know about.” I had to be honest. “Tasks you can’t help me with.” Like crime and violence, dangerous interviews, and the way I felt about her.
A face unlike any I had ever seen…and never would again…should send my heroic heart to the ladder where I would gather a million splinters in my hands by sliding to the ground, risking pain and infection to keep her safe by leaving.
Her features looked watery as I gazed at her. Tears? I never cried. Her pastel throw rugs turned into colorful puddles blurred by an emotion I had never experienced before.
“You are supposed to be here, Jim. And I am supposed to help you.”
For a moment, something ominous crept into my thoughts. Something of the old crime writer in me, who with several clicks of a typewriter’s keys could turn any story the direction I wanted. I welcomed him back, then set him aside. Because in the blue of her eyes, I saw something stronger—my promise.
If friendship was defined by a long period of time and a large number of interactions, Chastity didn’t qualify. And maybe my initial carnal fascination which became a pitter-patter my heart couldn’t beat without didn’t meet the definition of love. But she was at least partially right. For three days we were supposed to be together and help each other. For three days we had an eternity.
Colleen L Donnelly put her science education to use for years and then put it behind her to pursue other passions. Her first love is writing and her second is hunting—hunting for that next good story, hunting for shed antlers or mushrooms in the woods, hunting for the next good author to read. An avid believer in work hard/play hard, Colleen splits her time between indoors and out, always busy at something.
Please help me welcome today’s guest, Linda Griffin….
In the small Maryland town of Morgan’s Landing, fourteen-year-old Julie Morgan is living in comfort with her wealthy family. She disappears on her way to school after a spat with her twin sister. Detective Jim Brady, married and the father of two, has been on the Morgan’s Landing police force for twelve years. He identifies a few suspects in the girl’s disappearance—Is it the fired school janitor, a paroled sex offender, Julie’s computer teacher…or his own teenage son? Jim can’t believe his son could be involved, but his wife is convinced the boy is hiding something. He needs to find Julie before the worst happens—and keep the peace at home.
Excerpt:
Heather was taking a math test when Mr. Scarlett, the vice principal, called her out in the hall to ask if she knew where Julie was. He was unusually stern.
“She has Phys Ed this period,” Heather said. Shouldn’t he know that?
“She’s not in class,” Mr. Scarlett said. “She wasn’t in Computer Applications first period, either. Your mother says she didn’t stay home sick.”
“No, she left before I did,” Heather said. She was mystified, and as the situation sank in, she experienced the first shudder of real fear. Julie liked school, and she would never cut classes. Their parents would kill them if they even thought of such a thing. They were not overly strict, but they were firm in their expectations that their daughters would always do the right thing.
She dug her cell phone, silenced during class, out of her purse, and dialed her sister’s number. It rang four times and went to voicemail. “It’s me,” she said. “Where are you? Call when you get this.”
****
“Julie Morgan is missing.” Jim Brady took the call at 10:30. He had been with the Morgan’s Landing Police Department for twelve years, and this was only his second missing person case. The first had involved a three-year-old boy who had wandered away and been found within the hour. He still remembered the emotions associated with that hour: the overwhelming anguish of the boy’s mother, the sharp desire to make sure his own son was safe. This time Colin was in school, and Jim resisted the urge to call Frances—of course the baby was safe with her.
Linda Griffin knew she wanted to be a “book maker” as soon as she learned to read and wrote her first story, “Judy and the Fairies,” at the age of six. Her passion for the printed word also led me to a career with the San Diego Public Library. She retired to spend more time on her writing and has had stories of every length from short shorts to novellas published in numerous literary journals. Morgan’s Landing is her tenth novel published by the Wild Rose Press. In addition to the three R’s—reading, writing, and research—she enjoys travel, movies, Scrabble, and visiting museums and art galleries.
After Richard III is slain in battle, a beautiful orphan finds true love and her true family, to her relief—and horror.
England, 1471
Beautiful orphaned Denys Woodville is thrust into the center of power politics when her guardian Elizabeth Woodville marries the new king, Edward IV. The Wars of the Roses finally seem to be at an end, with the House of York victorious over the House of Lancaster. But not everyone rejoices in King Edward’s victory. Elizabeth and her Woodville clan have clawed their way to power by switching sides throughout the Wars of the Roses. They are always on the lookout for a chance to advance their ambitions, even at the expense of the king’s family and most loyal supporters.
Denys is delighted that the House of York has won, though she detests Elizabeth’s grasping nature. She considers King Edward and his youngest brother Richard, duke of Gloucester, the only real family she ever had. Elizabeth has never given her a hint of who her real parents might have been.
As the walls of the palace start to close in around her, Denys decides to flee the safety of the court in order to seek the truth about her real identity. She longs to find any living family of her own.
Elizabeth marries her off to Valentine Starbury, duke of Norwich, out of spite, but her feelings for him strengthen and bloom into love. He joins her quest to find her family, but with no reliable leads, it becomes hopeless. After King Richard’s devastating death in the Battle of Bosworth, Denys finally reaches her lifelong goal—she finds her family, in a stunning twist of fate.
Scene Three of CROWNED BY LOVE
Denys’s Aunt Elizabeth adopted her, then neglected her to passionately pursue Edward, England’s future king. Edward fell hard, and they married. The new bride had no need of a child, so she sent Denys to Yorkshire, far out of the way.
The childless duke and duchess of Scarborough raised her as the daughter they never had. When the duchess died, the duke sent Denys back to court, unwanted again. Despite having a king and queen for an uncle and aunt, Denys languished, a lost soul. Today, as reunited lovers surrounded her, she stood alone, unwanted. To add to her misery, the knight of her dreams appeared, only to vanish. Such was her life as an outsider.
Her lady-in-waiting entered, curtsied, and held out a folded parchment embossed with the royal seal. “A page delivered this from her highness the queen, my lady.”
She dismissed the maid. “It can wait.” Probably a summons to one of the queen’s silly musicales, an excuse for court ladies to gossip.
She put the message out of her mind till that eve as her tiring woman stood behind her brushing her hair.
“Jane, please fetch me that royal parchment.” She waved in the direction of her writing table.
Denys broke the seal and unfolded it—a summons, all right—but not to a giddy musicale.
It was a summons to a wedding—her own. Her heart took a sickening lurch.
Her intended was Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king’s youngest brother, her childhood companion. Queen Elizabeth always married relatives off to the cream of nobility, and Richard was the highest ranking bachelor in the kingdom.
Far from her idea of a husband. A brother, yes. A husband—never!
A fastidious prude, he intended to wed his sweetheart Anne Neville.
Denys and Richard played together as children, and renewed their friendship when she returned to court. They played tennis, chess, cards—but play ended at games. Just the thought of kissing him made her shudder.
Now the queen wanted them wed on Christmas Day.
Seething with fury, she strode to the hearth and flung the parchment into the flames. They licked and charred it beyond recognition. She crawled into bed for a long, hard think.
By the time she fell asleep, she’d already thought of several ways out.
How I ‘met’ Richard III
Every Ricardian has a story about how they discovered Richard III and became fascinated with him.
I started researching my first historical, The Jewels of Warwick, centered around Henry VIII and two fictional heroines, in 1990—with no internet (how did I do it?) I have a strong spiritual connection with late medieval England, which is the basis for my enchantment with this place and time. Jewels took 2 years to research and write, with no internet. It came very close to publication with several romance houses, but missed the mark for containing too little romance. When I finished Jewels, I scoured the history books for another legendary figure to write about. While I browsed the Cambridge Library stacks, a book snagged my eye. Lying, not standing, on the wrong shelf was Crown of Roses by Valerie Anand. It drew me like a magnet. Richard III is a central character in the story, and the author thanks the Richard III Society for helping her. Already hooked on Richard, his tragic death at 32 and his reputation as a usurper and a murderer of his little nephews, I joined this Richard III Society. As everyone else who has a story about how they ‘met’ Richard, he fascinated me. I’d found the subject of my next novel! And it tied in perfectly as a prequel to The Jewels of Warwick. Titled Thy Name is Love, it made the same rounds of publishers, remaining homeless after several rewrites and seven years.
In 1999 with the Internet making my life so much easier, I queried the many E-publishers that had recently set up shop, and British publisher Domhan Books responded in March with an offer for my two historicals. Fortunately, Domhan also published print books.
The publisher, Siobhan McNally, published Thy Name is Love because she’s a huge Richard sympathizer.
My passion for history and travel has taken me to every locale of my books and short stories, set in Medieval and Renaissance England, Paris, Egypt, the Mediterranean, colonial Virginia, New England, Washington D.C. and New York. My urban fantasy romance, FAKIN’ IT, won a Top Pick award from Romantic Times. I’m a member of Romance Writers of America, the Richard III Society and the Aaron Burr Association. My husband Chris and I own CostPro, an engineering firm based in Boston. In my spare time, I bicycle, golf, play my piano, devour books of any genre, and spend as much time as possible living the dream on my beloved Cape Cod.
Author Alicia Dean 