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#HistoricalFiction
oliveoilcorp · 11 months
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Shift.
Excerpt from my new werewolf-western-horror-romance comic DARLIN' AND HER OTHER NAMES, PART 1 (out now) http://darlincomic.com
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idkyetxoxo · 1 month
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Vagabond | The Last Kingdom
A 21st-century woman is thrust into the past, where she meets Uhtred, a formidable warrior. She joins his band of warriors forming unbreakable bonds. Along the way, she finds herself drawn to Finan the Agile and the lines between friendship and something deeper blur with each passing moment.
Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen
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finanxreader (the last kingdom series)
This story is also available on wattpad - Vagabond | The Last Kingdom by @Unofficalavenger3000 🤍
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jeannereames · 4 months
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New Covers are Here!
New covers! Need a Christmas or Hanukkah gift for the history-lover in your life? Or even just for yourself?
Get these stunning new covers with revised content.
Blurbed by none other than Kate Elliott.
PLEASE REPOST & BOOST!
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readersmagnet · 15 days
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Let’s us celebrate hard work, perserverance, foresight, and human triumph through a young girl’s narrative in Piece-A-Way Crossroads, a story about the Desegregation.
Check out Gloria Gipson Suggs’ website, https://www.gloriagipsonsuggs.com/ and learn more about her masterpiece.
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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all fans of the enigmatic world of "The Phantom of the Opera"
We are excited to present the first chapter of "Zariya Hollow - A Horror Anthology: Episode 13 - "The Ghost in The Opera House". This project, a labor of love spanning nine years, has been made possible in collaboration with phantomstheater.weebly.com. We extend our heartfelt thanks to Phantomstheater for providing access to their translation of the original Le Gaulois newspaper publication of Gaston Leroux's "Le Fantôme de l'Opéra", along with the comprehensive appendix. Discover more and stay updated at phantomstheater.weebly.com/Zariya-Hollow.
Zariya Hollow: Season 1, Episode 13 - "The Ghost In The Opera House" (Chapter 1)
In the gripping season finale opener, "The Ghost In The Opera House," we step into the mysterious corridors of Paris's famed Opera House, led by the enigmatic voice of Gaston Leroux. His narration not only brings the grand architecture to life but also whispers of the secrets and ghostly enigmas hidden within its walls.
This episode is a defining moment in the Opera House's chronicles, capturing the significant transfer of leadership from the old directors, Messieurs Debienne and Poligny, to the new custodians, Armand Moncharmin and Firmin Richard. The handover of the small master keys isn't merely a formal procedure; it signifies the dawn of a new era, riddled with unexpected challenges and eerie tales of a phantom lurking in the shadows.
As we navigate through Leroux's vividly painted scenes, we explore the Opera House's majestic underbelly, where the new directors grapple with the daunting rumors of a spectral inhabitant. Parallel to this, in the serene town of Perros-Guirec, another story starts to unfurl, intricately linking to the opera's own enigmatic saga.
Leroux's masterful storytelling skillfully blends reality with legend, weaving a narrative that captivates and haunts in equal measure. "The Ghost In The Opera House" is more than a tale of unspoken love and ghostly presence; it's an expedition into a realm where every hidden corner and echoing note tells its own story. As the tale progresses, Leroux sets the stage for a finale that is set to be as unforgettable as the legend of the Paris Opera House itself.
Tune in to this mesmerizing journey at anchor.fm/zariyahollow/episodes/Zariya-Hollow-S1Ep13--The-Ghost-In-The-Opera-House-Chapter-1-e2dlke1.
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landwhalepod · 1 month
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Here it is! The moment you've all been waiting for: the thrilling conclusion to the second season of the Land Whale Murders. Unhinged artists! Prison reform! Paperwork! Explosions?! Tune your dial to the Land Whale Murders, wherever you like to listen.
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whencyclopedia · 1 year
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The Sicilian Sorceress: A Historical Fiction Time Travel Novel
If you are a history reader who enjoys historical facts mixed with a feminist-led story, then this novel is for you. This story will transport you to Agrigento, Sicily in 440 BCE. Mary Knight presents a wonderful sensory read which I would describe as meditative. The Sicilian Sorceress has just enough action to keep the pages turning while also providing beautiful descriptions of gardening, cooking, and living a simple life as well as traveling within ancient Greece.
Continue reading...
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phillipiswriting · 8 months
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#FictionFriday ... one day late. Alas.
Thessidian Creation, part 3: the first Idylls, and their Art.
The Ennead is slowly taking shape. Last time we got the Sun Mother, the Nine, the Portals, and the Stones; now we get the Idylls and the creation of all plants and animals as their art. 
Worth noting at this point that this creation myth is one told by modern Thessidian Omphalists -- in other posts I give different perspectives. For instance, the Omphalists group fish and whales and ichthyosaurs all together -- not really considering how such animals crossed the (land-based) portals.
Next time: the Idylls draw first blood, and the Nine whip up the first everstorm. 
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stalactitekilla · 3 months
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My Roman Empire: Chapter I
ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕠𝕤
**18+** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Warnings: This is a historical fiction, there are elements and names of historical figures mentioned throughout this story. This is not a replication of any known story, this is just a side arc with influence from the new casting and existing work of the Gladiator movies. The timeline expressed is to my best research accurate with the reign of Caracalla as emperor, but I have taken my own liberties with his story. There will be inevitable changes and I do not state anything is accurate historically within this work. Please note also there will be mentions of trauma, the Roman Empire was not kind to women or children. This is a book meant for anyone 18 years or older, please be respectful and only read if you truly can handle mature themes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Blood, sweat, sand and more blood. This age of Rome was forged in primal, tangible means. The loss of the emperor, the crushing defeat of Commodous, the Empire never faltered, even without a designated head, no true leader. It was a free for all of power, one that the likes of the empire took only seven years to fully come to an agreement. Seven years for Caracalla to take his throne. To purge his life of having those around him misappropriate their resources all in the name of being more experienced. Of knowing better than him.
The seven years included a woman. Julia Dohma, the self proclaimed mother of Caracalla and Geta. She was there to claim the power that came with being Empress. The problem with her proclamation was that Caracalla didn't know the woman, he was never coddled, he didn't know what a woman's affection should or would look like. He was taken from his mother at birth, never to cross paths with anyone so named until Julia was presented to him. She took the opportunity to take control, though she adored the boys, she loved the power that came with being Empress more. The attention the Senate gave her and more importantly the riches. The boys were easy to control, she loved their filthy need for violence and she fed into their superiority.
In the most telling of ways she truly was a mother to the both of them. Caracalla grew stronger and stronger as the years continued. He bided his time, taught himself about all of the kingdoms, and with his new found strength grew his hatred for the Senate.
The Senate of course laughed at the "boy" emperor. His refusal, his disdain for their actions was seen as being impatient, as being naive and he was starting to grow a fierce need to smother each of the Senators in their sleep. That is where Julia became more than a mother, she used her looks, her poise to get information on their enemies. She fed the news to her sons and they waited... and waited till something happened. An incident that sent ripples through Rome.
A slave escaped, not just any slave, no. Lucius. The lost emperor.
Caracalla used this information to expose the weakness of the current aristocracy, using his mother as a being of light, that she would aid in representing what true purity looked like. That she was enough to corral the boys, to hinder their impure thoughts of violence and greed. Caracalla was given the title of being a cruel emperor.
He accepted it with fervor.
Lucius was used by his mother to show the signs of blight, of flaccid management within the Senate. Five years passed after the escape of this slave, the slave born an emperor, and then Caracalla heard the escape was from the Lutamaros' home. The ripples through the aristocracy, the whispers were heard all the way to the Senate. The man was damned, he was shamed and never sold another slave to the aristocracy again. They laughed at him. The idea that a child outsmarted a Roman elite. It was preposterous and it brought a new level of shame to the man. He was no better than the people he housed, no credit to barter within the walls of the arena. Lutamaros grew desperate. He then offered his other expertise, gladiator training and the Senate laughed, Caracalla did not.
Caracalla never received military training. He craved the spectacle of those falling at his feet on the battlefield. The feeling of a man falling at his feet by his own hand. He was supposed to receive a tutor, but the man had refused. The man had claimed familial responsibilities, but Caracalla took it as a personal insult. He had this man hunted down and enslaved. Lutamaros now housed him and he would bring him to the arena, he would make sure everyone knew he was responsible for making a great military general bow. That in trade for the humiliation of Lucius he now held the honor of another.
Clemens.
A man so honorable that he didn't need a title. He was placed into the arena. No longer an aristocrat he was condemned to a life of blood and sand.
A Gladiator.
His price of freedom was so high no one could hope to save him from his exile. Not even his children. Clemens had left behind a dying wife, a daughter and a sickly little boy. Hardly the family to be left to survive. He all but gave up hope, praying to the gods and pleading with Lutamaros to see how they were. News of his wife's death came swiftly, from the two years he was already gone she had died almost instantly upon his leaving.
The children were lost. Lutamaros laughed and told him to now fight, win and live so that if one day his children were to find him they would see a hero, not the sad man that chose honor before love.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ℂ𝕒𝕚𝕒 🌿🌿
Rome 205 ce A woman is limited on the aspirations in life she is allowed to achieve. I shouldn't dream, I shouldn't hope, but here I was day in and day out training to be something I wasn't. Training to fight against a world that did not welcome me, a world that wanted me to kneel before it and take whomever would have me. The men standing over the women, the smiles as they watch tears hit your eyes, the tyranny that all women face. I was born to serve.
Well. I reject this world. I reject others beliefs pushed down upon me, I have never seen this world as fair or kind, but I was not going to let those atrocities break me. I would be fierce and I would be brutal. For I was and forever will be a woman. 🌿
Even with the world against me, the sun rose yet again, a new day full of life's little mysteries, I should be rejoicing, and if I did not have my life's mission I think I would be happier than most with the coming of daybreak. However, I prayed and cried that each morning was to be my last. Stumbling through the new light, darkness fighting the corners of my room as the semblance of morning is revealed, I let out the night's last breath as my eyes find the corner of my room. Was it just a normal morning or was I in need of another trip to that corner, to curl up and let myself unravel with all the fears of this world. I hated this building, but yet it was my sanctuary. It's damp and abrasive, the air, not at all sweet like you remember your home to have been. Your home prior to everything. These same walls and the same smell of the world that has hit your nose for the last seven years brought a sting to your throat, a twist to your stomach. Moving causes your arms to ache, fold into themselves with a soreness felt to your bones. A buzz from the long day of hunting and tilling still lingering on my limbs.
To think there are women that lie on their back and allow men to spend time with them, no swinging of swords, no kitchen work, just the ease of companionship and then the bitterness of being left bare while they move on to more important pursuits. You always wondered if that would have been an easier fate, if your stomach may have been full of delicious treats with that task, if you would have been able to enjoy a man's touch. You had little experience when it came to romance, even at your age it was almost unheard of to be untouched. You didn't venture out to look, but sometimes you wondered if there was anything good left for you in this world.
Marriage.
Love.🌿
The words were uttered in the village, the locals would point and awe at yourself, but no one dared to ask the traitorous war general's daughter for any type of affection. There was no value to my being. No one dared come all the way up the mountain to brave seeing me. Each day brought about more time, more chances for the world to take from you. So with that weight on your shoulders you greeted your delicate morning. For today was another day where you looked at yourself, dark hair getting longer and longer, eyes green as trees in the summer, and your skin soft as if you cared for it to be so. It was a strange feeling to want to be longed for, you had to stay strong bodied, but that didn't stop your intense want for something or someone. You found yourself looking into the fire, watching the rain and dreaming about love.
As the world turned you were able to procure two friends along your life journey. They were both withholding pasts, but five years had passed since my brother had foolishly made his way to a slaver's home, to a place that was ripe with suffering. My brother, Pluvio was forever my love and burden in this world. He meant well, but he was cursed with a weak constitution. He would wander a lot when we were small. So, in haste my father taught us how to find each other, how to believe the other was okay. A system of marks, scents and sounds that only we knew. Armed with these, I found my brother, alongside him was another.
Lucius.🌿
My father always told me that the world is cruel. His words never held lies or mistrust. He never tried to hide the fact that I was not going to enjoy my life. If anything the winds of change were not to blow on my time. My father's tone was steady the day I knew it would be my last seeing him, "Caia. My sweet girl, I am going to leave soon, not because I want to, but because the world commands me too. Take care of your brother, stay hidden, and live as peaceful a life as you can." He kissed your forehead, he had held you close. Then he left. They always leave. The caretakers, your parents, but you would not leave your brother. You wanted to be that exception, you wanted to be that good. Your father was protecting you in some manner, but he left when I turned twelve years of age, leaving my brother and I alone in the world. What father abandons his children? I had to adapt quickly, had to learn to distrust and hate those around me. I had to learn that men, all men, they were the enemy. We spent the first month outdoors, curled together for warmth, and practically starving before I stumbled upon our home. That was the one small saving grace for us and it was the fact that I had secured us a shelter, an abandoned building deep into the forest, so far from the world that it gave a small reprieve. It allowed for me to care for my brother and to grow in skills that normal girls would not have.
I was strong. I honed my fighting skills.I studied my father and I continued to work around his teachings even now. I was fluent in hand to hand combat, bow and arrow, and spear throwing. My arms were narrow so the holding of a sword was too much one handed. I could in fact use both hands, but I preferred daggers in either hand. Giving myself a duality to my fighting. My father told me that being the eldest and female is a curse. I wanted to change that, I needed to be better if not for myself or for my brother.
As I grew in skills and age it was apparent that the locals took an interest in the girl on the hill. It was also apparent that many slavers thought I was easy pickings. They were wrong, many a man thought and ended up with a dagger to the heart, their bodies tossed from a cliff for the animals to eat.
I would not be easily caught. I was even less easily swayed. It was a lonely existence with just my brother and I. Not till a day where I ran into a caravan of thieves did I find someone that would mean more to me than family. This caravan was for mercenaries, they held slaves, one with a bag thrown over the head, the men whispering of how much they were getting for this particular cargo, that the boy was someone royal. I shouldn't have meddled, that's when I should have let them be, but something inside me couldn't leave that boy. I felt the fear and I knew, I would so desperately want someone to help me if I became in a similar way.
So after slicing the throats of his captors I moved to remove the bag. His eyes caught mine, the first thing I noticed was that he was unlike any other boys I knew. He had features that pleased my eye. When he saw the men dead around us, then saw it was by my hand, well he took a pause before he spoke.
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"A woman." The boy stated, "Fuck. This should be interesting." 
"I do not see what is so interesting." I growled, "Maybe I should leave you."
"Please. I beg you, I only act surprised as this is quite the feat for a man." He leaned closer and smirked, "Let alone a woman of the likes of you."
"What is your name?" I looked back at him as his brown eyes bounced about my features.
Katurix.🌿
The boy was named, Katurix. He was kidnapped and enslaved at a young age. Though confidant in his skillset, he was quickly overpowered by his captors. He was a year older than yourself and found instant solace with you. After that day he would not leave your side. Nightmares plagued his rest, unless yourself or your brother stayed with him. The boy became a member of your family.
Brother. That was his title and he didn't tell me much about his past, but he's never left. Unlike many before him, he stayed. He's protected myself and my brother to this day. He's fierce and he's as close to me as my own blood. When we rescued Pluvio he was skeptical of Lucius, but for the past five years that has changed. The four of us closer than any family I could hope to be a part of. So that leads us back to today, to now, a house residing with four souls, a house with no real purpose other than the residents survival. I wanted to be better than my father, but even in the darkest parts of my mind I wish to be back with him. I miss him. Pulling over a flimsy cloth over shirt I leave what I can only humorously call pants on my legs. The other part of growing up around three boys was the fact that I didn't dress like a woman. I was forever left to look like a boy with girlish features. Though I did not hold a candle when it came to Katurix, though courageous he was what the locals called a male beauty. Venturing into the shared living space I can see my brother is propped up at the table, some sort of bread and his parchment ready to scribe the many ideas that float around his mind for the day. I hear the clang of metal on metal before I can even ask Pluvio how he fairs I voice my reaction to the sounds, "They're at it early."
Pluvio simply nods outstretching his arm to hand me some of the bread, "Don't hurt them too much Caia, they didn't sleep. Lucius is restless."
When is that boy not restless? A grin. That's all I can provide my brother. He knows he cannot wield a sword, that dream died when he was barely two years of age. An illness took him and withered his being, he didn't need strength though, he had us. Pluvio is so true to himself, he supports us with his cunning and with the way he loves us all. Our home isn't fancy, it barely stays dry during storms, but it holds five rooms and a bath. Outside is the forest and farther a road that leads to town. I wander to the door, pushing forth the wooden barrier, feeling the air of the new day on my skin. The warmth of the summer air was coming to a close, the winds and chills of a cooler season threatening. I would need to hunt. I would need to prepare for another long winter of the four of us.
I continue outside, a path and laundry line adorning the front, several buckets from the attempts made by Lucius to wash his own clothes. You smile at the cups tipped over, they must have been trying to wash and dry their clothes before finding it futile. Katurix was a boy of many talents, cleaning happened to be one of them. This would create jealousy from Lucius and then the fighting would ensue. You could see the tunics hung from both boys along with the extra warm fabric for Pluvio. You all agreed that Pluvio would be warm even on the coldest of nights. As you walk farther you come to the clearing and a full view of the two men in front of you. Katurix and Lucius are already down to just their pants, shirtless in the open air as they hold their blades. Their eyes never leave each other's sights, your eyes leave them following the lines towards the make shift training grounds created for the three of you.
Wooden fences with a single set of risers for Pluvio or one of you to spectate while you fought. An array of wooden weapons to choose from, you had told Katurix of your dream of being a Gladiator. The first time he had laughed, wondering if you were kidding, slowly realizing you were serious he took it upon himself to help you train.
"Cheater!" Lucius growls as your eyes once again are brought back to the boys in front of you. Katurix smiling as he had disarmed Lucius, I watched in awe, the two had been battling it out for hours it seems and you took a bite as you sat and waited for the inevitable brawl.
"I do not cheat Lucius. You just cannot beat me." Katurix loved to taunt, it was almost unfair how naturally gifted he was, the way he moved was fluid, and I had tried to mimic it to no avail. I later concerned myself with learning how to move around the both of them, trying to fight them on equal grounds stopped being possible once Lucius turned fifteen. This was now my nineteenth year, I was practically an old woman to the town, but I couldn't place what I was missing.
Lucius storms off, tossing his sword into the dirt and when he turns to see me there he growls again, "I can't stay here any longer if he won't be fair."
"War isn't fair Lucius. You know that." Katurix snarled back, "Caia knows that. My turn to spar with her, go practice and gather firewood."
I raised an eyebrow at Katurix, "You were seeing who was going to spar with me?" With my question Lucius ran off, a man of little temperament, but you were unsure why he was so angry. Walking over Katurix dipped a ladel in a bucket, water filling his mouth before running another over the back on his neck and through his hair. Thick dark waves, you would need to cut his hair again soon, but for the winter it was going to be better to have it longer.
As he looks back over he smiles at you, "What is that look for?" Katurix leaned back against a nearby tree. He was watching me like a predator would an animal, I was unsure how his eyes had become so dark. 🌿
"I should ask you the same thing? Have I caused you some kind of harm?" I leaned into the tree, our arms hitting each other, the touch seemed to cause him pain as he rolled away, "No, you have not caused me any harm, but I will dare to say that you are indeed causing me some sort of emotion."
I looked at him, narrowing my eyes, "You did cheat didn't you?" The eruption of laughter from him was too much. He just rubbed his face, "Lucius is in need of an actual upset every now and then. The world isn't kind to those that are so good. Take me for example, I am a scoundrel and I win all the time."
The smile Katurix makes is the same as always, its playful and makes you shake your head, "I should go find him."
"You should and then ask him why he's holding back when the two of you spar." Katurix makes a little smile before he sees my face fall, "Not like we have been doing that..."
"Are you pitying me? I will not be pitied by anyone." I looked back to the house and could see Pluvio now venturing outside. His parchment in hand as he headed in our direction, "Watch him for a bit. I will not have either of you treating me like a child."
Katurix went to say something else but just motioned his head for me to run away. He was wise when to fight and when not to fight, the world was always trying to place me in a box. As a woman I had honed my skills and the thought of Katurix or Lucius not taking me seriously created a sickness in my stomach. It made me think that I was not of value. I waved at my brother as I took off in the same direction as Lucius. He needed to understand that I could take a few bruises, I was a warrior. I was a gladiator.
Rushing through the forest I could hear someone up ahead, as I rounded the trees and headed to the small stream up ahead I caught Lucius starting to clean up, to get himself settled. Your eyes lingered longer than you should of on him. His body had changed so much over the last few years, the training and life together was starting to make you warm whenever you saw him. As he dipped himself in the stream he was almost picturesque. 🌿
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"You always liked to stare." He smiled at you as you came towards the edge of the water and sat on the embankment, "Katurix says you are pitying me. Why are you always so slow with me?"
"You're a woman. Even you have to see that I can easily overpower you. I have to be careful, I don't want to hurt you." His smile was genuine, but his words did nothing but make me angry, resentful of him. I then picked up a stick near by, "I will show you who overpowers who!" 
Lucius just shook his head as he let me lunge over and over and over. My stance not heeding to his own, his chest lifted up and down with ease as I powered through, an arm wrapping about my waist, "Caia, please... You are going to hurt yourself."
"I will not!" I leaned forward, gripping his arm then swirling my leg as to allow him to fall backwards, he huffed as he toppled to the ground, my thighs on either side of his waist, his hands on my hips and my hand to his throat imitating a knife, my hair curtaining his face and his lips curl into a smile, "You win. I am overpowered. Feel better?"
"I want to be treated the same. Why can't you practice the same with me as you do Katurix?" I looked at him settling my weight down, feeling his fingers draw outlines on the thin material I had worn holes into over the years. The blue of his eyes pierced through you as you tried to move away, "Caia, you really don't understand why I have changed with you?"
I knew, I wasn't part of the group anymore. I was a liability. Tears start to fill my eyes as I go to move, leaning up and in an attempt to remove myself from his body he grips my forearms, pulling me down to his chest, his lips suddenly mold with mine and my world starts to spin. My eyes sting with white heat behind my eyelids as they close, nothing ever felt like this, I wanted more. As I let out a small noise his tongue pushed past my lips into my mouth, I had never kissed another person, this was nothing like what the other girls in town had told me. I dreamed about kissing someone, I have even seen a few actors during a play kiss, but to receive one. My mouth matched his own, my tongue meeting his, the hunger of my lips against his, the sound of his want filled my mouth, and everything stopped. 
He pulled me down flat against his chest, flipping us over to hover over me, arms caging me against the soft earth, his mouth separating from my own, breath heaving from his lungs, "You kissed me back..."
The quiet of the air and the sound of the river in the background added to the steady drumming of your heart. Your hand gently touching his cheek as you watched him calculate your next move, "I kissed you back..."🌿
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lisa-lostinlit · 2 years
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“Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives--or to find strength in a very long one.” 💬 Tell me a book you’ve had on your TBR for farrrrrr too long. 🤎📖 I’m embarrassed to say Addie LaRue is still sitting pretty on my TBR. I was so incredibly excited for its release… and for absolutely no good reason it’s still sitting there. 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣 ✩ Gorgeous glass Addie LaRue mug by @wickedwhimsyboutique! Use code LIFEINLIT15 for a discount! . . . h a s h t a g s : #theinvisiblelifeofaddielarue #veschwab #fantasybooks #adultfantasy #historicalfiction #bookcommunity #bookgram #bookblog #bookish #dayslikethese #bookishpost #cozyaesthetic #readersofinstagram #pinterestaesthetic #booktography #bedsidetable #bedroom #bedroomdecor #hygge #hyggehome #toberead #bookrecommendations #alwaysreading #coffeelovers #coffeeandseasons #coffeeandbooks #bookcollector #bookhoarder #goodreads #bookblogger (at Cozy At Home) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdGfLwTukmW/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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leagueofbane · 2 months
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A story of relentless pursuit, betrayal, and revenge: As a young boy, Jack Mallory knows horror and desolation when James Logan and his pirates murder his father and abduct his mother. Falsely accused of piracy himself, Jack is thrown into jail. He survives seven years in London’s notorious Newgate prison and emerges a hardened man seeking revenge.
His obsession with finding his mother’s kidnapper drives him to the West Indies where he becomes entangled with a fiery young woman named Maria Cordero. With a score of her own to settle with James Logan, she disguises her gender and blackmails Jack into taking her aboard his pirate brig, Prodigal, in his desperate search for Logan. Their tumultuous relationship simmers while Jack formulates a daring plan to rescue his mother and exact revenge upon Logan for destroying his family. But Logan has no intentions of losing what he now treasures more than life itself—Jack’s mother, Ella.
Available in paperback, ebook, and audiobook formats.
"Keogh has done an exceptional job in creating a character that has the potential to be an exciting, realistic hero of the 17th century. The story is fast paced, and her knowledge of maritime lingo during the Age of Sail is historically accurate. An excellent read and highly recommended." - Historical Novel Society Review.
skkeogh.com
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onlinebookclub-org · 5 months
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Book of the Day, November 12th -- Romance
Temporarily FREE on Kindle! Get your copy below:
https://forums.onlinebookclub.org/shelves/book.php?id=224787
The Prodigy Slave, Book One: Journey to Winter Garden by Londyn Skye
This book has 620 five-star ratings on Amazon!
In addition, this book received the honor of OBC's 2021 Romance Novel of The Year! It was also a 1st place category winner in the Chanticleer International Book Award contest and it has received hundreds of 5 star reviews from readers!
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At the age of nine, Lily is forcefully torn from her mother's arms and sold at a Negro auction by her master. Seeking solace from such devastation, Lily secretly begins teaching herself to play her new master's piano.
The “punishment” she receives starts Lily on an unprecedented journey that dramatically alters her life and influences the lives of thousands.
From the Author:
My agent is working to put this series on NETFLIX! I'm celebrating by giving away the 1st book FREE in this inspiring saga of a prodigal slave who inspires the masses with her savant-like, pianist skills! FREE Nov. 12-16
"This book is just simply amazing. I am not sure how else to describe it. Ms. Skye weaves the imagery of the horrendous treatment and conditions that the slaves lived in, with innocent and sweet childhood moments, and true wholesome love." ~ Amazon Reviewer
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idkyetxoxo · 17 days
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Eleven | Vagabond | The Last Kingdom
"You're really laying it on thick, aren't you?"
"Just admiring the view."
─── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ───
As we ventured onward towards Mercia, Finan couldn't seem to resist throwing me flirty glances. His playful eyes danced with mischief, hinting at secrets shared and unspoken promises.
The rest of the group, keen observers as they were, couldn't help but pick up on the subtle shift in our dynamic. Their knowing glances and suppressed smiles spoke volumes, betraying their awareness of the unspoken connection brewing between Finan and me. Yet, despite their curiosity, they maintained a respectful silence, perhaps recognizing the delicacy.
"Stop eyeing each other like that it's distracting," Sihtric finally quipped, breaking the tension with a hint of amusement in his voice. His words, though light-hearted, carried a hint of acknowledgement, acknowledging the chemistry that crackled between Finan and me.
The echoing sound of approaching horses and men abruptly shattered the tranquillity of our travels. Reacting swiftly, I drew my sword, wincing as I applied pressure to the wound on my leg to quell the sharp pain provoked by the sudden movement.
Dismounting from my horse, I nearly stumbled, struggling to regain my footing. Sihtric's assistance steadied me, for which I silently expressed gratitude.
"Uhtred, far from home," Haestan's voice greeted us, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the predictable encounter. Tuning out his ensuing chatter, I fought the urge to scoff as he extended an invitation to join him and his men.
"Once, I aspired to conquer Mercia and Wessex for myself, but now all I desire is a woman to bed and land to claim," Haestan remarked, prompting an involuntary groan from me. The crude discourse of men regarding women in this era never failed to evoke exasperation.
Haestan's attention shifted to me upon hearing my groan. "Ah, Uhtred's fierce female warrior," he taunted, to which I retorted, "I have a name," under my breath, met with a feeble laugh from him. "Do you object to my pursuit of a woman and land?" he prodded further.
Suppressing a laugh, I met his gaze squarely. "I pity any woman who's ever had to be under you," I spat, eliciting a grunt from him. "She's spirited, this one," he remarked to his men, who chuckled in agreement, evidently pleased with their banter.
However, Haestan's next remark provoked Uhtred's wrath, leading to a confrontation wherein he likened Aethelfled to a squealing pig. Only upon divulging Cnut's involvement in his brother's death did Uhtred spare him.
"Tie the boys up," Uhtred commanded as one of Cnut's sons attempted to escape while the other attacked Finan.
I moved to assist Finan and Sihtric in restraining the resisting youths, enduring a sharp pain as one elbowed me in the stomach, reopening my wound and staining my clothes with blood.
I made a conscious effort to conceal the sensation of pain coursing through me, the crimson splatter staining my clothes serving as a grim reminder. Despite the agony gnawing at my insides, I resolved to press forward, unwilling to burden the group with any further delays.
Our next destination was Aeglesburg, upon arrival, I dismounted clumsily, prompting Finan's immediate concern. As he helped me to a secluded area, I explained how one of Cnut's sons had injured me, though I had chosen not to burden the group with my ailment. 
With careful precision, he gingerly lifted my top, exposing the wound, while deftly tearing a piece of cloth with his teeth. His hands worked skillfully, knotting the fabric around my waist to apply pressure, his fingers inadvertently brushing against the tattoo adorning my ribs.
"Another one?" he inquired, his gaze curious as he noted the inked script. I nodded in affirmation, explaining, "It reads 'grateful.' It's a sentiment I once cherished, a reminder to appreciate all that life offers," I replied, feeling a pang of nostalgia as his fingertips traced the intricate design.
"I have one more tattoo," I revealed, noting his growing curiosity. "Care to share?" he inquired eagerly, only to be met with a shake of my head. "That one remains hidden," I confessed playfully, amused by his reaction. He groaned in mock frustration, jesting, "Don't tease me, woman," as my laughter echoed in response to his feigned exasperation.
Returning to the group, we learned of Uhtred's ruse to intimidate Cnut by 'killing' one of his sons. Despite their father's villainy, I couldn't help but feel sympathy for the distraught children.
Approaching the boys, I offered comforting words, gently brushing their tear-streaked faces. Observing from a distance, Uhtred voiced his concern to Finan about my well-being.
His words spilt forth with a depth of emotion that had long been buried. "I've known her for years," he began, his voice carrying the weight of countless shared experiences. 
"She's endured trials that would break most, yet she's emerged resilient, becoming one of my dearest friends." Uhtred's gaze softened, betraying the vulnerability beneath his stoic exterior. 
"I can't bear to see her suffer any more pain," he confessed, his words carrying the weight of a heartfelt plea to his friend, urging him to tread carefully in whatever endeavour lay ahead.
Across from him, Finan stood with arms folded, his expression a mixture of understanding and silent solidarity, nodding in quiet acknowledgement of his friend's plea.
── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ──
I had been given strict orders to stay at the back of the battle at Tettanhall. The reasoning was that I wasn't yet fully healed or prepared to rejoin the fray, and truth be told, I didn't put up much of a fight against the decision.
The thought of plunging back into the chaos of combat, of taking lives once more, still unsettled me but despite my reservations, I was determined to stand by my only family and offer whatever support I could.
Now, as I sat beside a babbling stream with Uhtred, young Uhtred, Stiorra, Finan, Osferth, Sihtric, Aelfwynn, and Aethelstan, I watched as Finan and Aethelstan attempted to navigate a makeshift boat crafted from tree bark. Witnessing Finan's gentle demeanour towards the child stirred something deep within me, igniting a warmth I hadn't felt in some time.
Overhearing Stiorra and young Uhtred engaged in conversation as she tossed something into the water, I approached them, taking a seat beside Stiorra.
"What are you two up to?" I inquired, a fondness evident in my tone as I wiped a smudge of mud from Stiorra's cheek. She beamed up at me, her smile reminiscent of her mother, Gisela, stirring memories of a friend dearly missed.
"I missed you," she confessed sweetly, prompting a reciprocal admission from me. Catching Finan's eye, I found relief in his smile as Stiorra's gaze flitted between us, her own grin infectious.
"You and Finan?" she probed, her curiosity bubbling forth. I nodded in confirmation, but her next question caught me off guard.
"Have you humped yet?" she blurted out, causing me to hastily cover her mouth, shooting her a warning glance. "If your father catches wind of that kind of talk, he'll have our heads," I chided softly, though Stiorra merely shrugged, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips.
"No, we haven't," I whispered, meeting her gaze with a sense of vulnerability. "We simply haven't found the time to properly discuss what this... us, means." Stiorra nodded understandingly, her youthful wisdom shining through.
"Well, I'm happy for you, you deserve someone good," she offered sincerely, her words carrying a weight far beyond her years, she had grown to become an incredibly intelligent young woman.
Grateful for her unwavering support, despite her youth, I expressed my gratitude before making my way toward Finan and Aethelstan.
"Are you two enjoying yourselves?" I inquired, catching a quick nod from the boy before tousling his hair affectionately. Meeting Finan's gaze, I noticed his lingering stare, his eyes seemingly fixed on me.
"What?" I asked, curious about his intent as his gaze held steady. "Just admiring the view," he replied with a playful smirk, prompting a lighthearted roll of my eyes in response.
"You've got quite the smile," he remarked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Caught off guard but charmed by his candour, I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. "Thanks," I replied, a hint of laughter in my voice.
Undeterred, Finan continued, his words casual yet subtly flirtatious "and those eyes of yours can't help but find myself lost in them."
"You're really laying it on thick, aren't you?" I quipped, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, as he winked playfully and repeated, "Just admiring the view."
Without another word, Finan closed the distance between us, and we shared a quick but profound kiss. 
As we parted, there was a lingering warmth, a shared acknowledgement. A gentle smile played on our lips, and I turned away, heading towards Aelfwynn, leaving Finan behind. 
─── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ───
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I kinda wanted her tattoos to have like a more important meaning but then I got lazy 😫
Tag list - @jasontoddorjasongrace
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willbashor · 5 months
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No. 76 - Historical French Fiction
THE QUEEN’S COIFFEUR is the story of Leonard Autié, the role he played in the life of his most famous client, and the chaotic and history-making world in which he rose to prominence.
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https://www.readersmagnet.club/needing-napoleon-by-gareth-williams/
Here is a recent article I wrote about my historical adventure series The Richard Davey Chronicles for @readersmagnet Authors’ Lounge. I hope you enjoy it.
I am hopeful the third book will be out sometime in spring 2023. It is entitled Rescuing Richard.
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colleenbooksfiction · 3 months
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The piano was invented by Bartolomeo Cristofori (1655-1731) of Italy. Cristofori was unsatisfied by the lack of control that musicians had over the volume level of the harpsichord. He is credited for switching out the plucking mechanism with a hammer to create the modern piano in around the year 1700. LISTENING TO HER OWN VOICE. Historical fiction novel about Swiss immigrants family - Kerker - are top entertainers in Chaska, MN. Rosa, the young protagonist is a most talented pianist. But she's pulled to a different calling. Struggling to listen to her own voice, Rosa overcomes numerous hurdles before she realizes what means most to her. Amazon, paperback and kindle. Great holiday gift as well as inspiring read for women of all ages.
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