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Category Archives: highlanders

The Ball’s the Thing

04 Tuesday May 2021

Posted by shehannemoore in blogging, heroes, highlanders, New book, Romance, Scottish, Smugglers, time travel, Uncategorized, Vikings, villains, writing

≈ 109 Comments

Tags

writing

ANNA KARENIN   Leo Tolstoy .  The ball scene.

“The ball had just begun when Kitty and her mother stepped on to the central staircase, which was bathed in light and embellished with flowers and powdered footmen in red livery. From the interior came a steady rustle of movement which filled the rooms like bees buzzing in a hive, and while they adjusted their hair in front on a mirror between the potted plants on the landing, the delicately clear sounds of the violins in the orchestra could be heard striking up the first waltz in the ballroom.”

Shey. As Silv just said there –sorry, just let me let go of her paws–I am on my 8th book and when that’s done there will have been a ball, or dance scene in six of them. I was uncertain re this latest one whether the ball would actually take place but on reflection, I am big on what ball scenes in books can offer. You can blame the scene in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenin for that. It’s not only a case in point being the first time Vronsky and Anna really eye each other up, leaving Kitty standing. The lavish description of the ball, of Kitty descending the staircase, full of starry eyed hope was like a beacon to me when I read that book. An eternity ago now but even now, I can remember it. Before that, talking balls? Well, there was Cinderella. I used the idea of Cinderella shamelessly in Splendor. The second ball scene –yes there’s two– is the big pivotal moment where she finds out the whole truth about the hero and runs, realising there’s things she can’t manage—managing things being her biggest strength and greatest flaw– and things she can’t lay on him either, leaving her glove on the stairs. Of course I thought the shoe might be a bit much, as would hamsters pulling the coach.

I’m sure you were asked but you fell under the wheels and that is why you are crushed. Sadly.

A ball also gave scope for when he loses her in a complicated dance set, mirrorring the maze of hopelessness he then lives in for months, and the contrast between this glittering world and the one facing her, if she doesn’t ‘manage’ this evening and that of her ex fiance, now begging in the gutter outside.

But the first ball scene was ideal for the hero really noticing what’s been under his nose and that’s her, as opposed to the awkward, clumsy, accident-prone, woman who has faced him as a man across a pair of duelling pistols and a chessboard. From the liveried footmen to the shining chandeliers, balls are such glittering occasions, all kinds of magic can be at work. Especially when neither partner can dance and they don’t want anyone knowing either.

I dunno dudes, you tell me. In the Viking and the Courtesan, Malice decides to confront her husband in a similar glittering scenario, after he’s set the law on her for services unrendered re a little biz she runs– a move that backfires spectacularly when, having failed to recognise her, he then kidnaps her at fork and knife-hurriedly-nicked-from-the-kitchen-point, after she tries to insist that the pillow she’s stuffed up her skirt is far more than that; all to the tune of a Mozart minuet.

‘Since you were low enough to ask us, naturally we were low enough to come.’

Miitchell Killgower cuts his’ ball’-breaking ex sister-in-law and aunt by marriage, short at the start of the ball scene in the Writer and the Rake. A ball she’s thrown in the middle of a bitter inheritance dispute, in order to expose the fact his ‘wife’ in his sham marriage has been missing presumed vanished off the face of the earth for weeks. It’s another pivotal moment where the heroine discovers that Morte, a man roughly five years older than herself is in fact her ten times great grandson and aged a thousand, and has her revolting feet admired by Francis Dashwood,—the actual founder of the Hellfire Club. Balls are also a great place to introduce real historical figures.

Again, neither hero nor heroine can dance, except the latter on a 21st century nightclub floor. But they’ve had a lot of fun learning–a good chance to sort of get together–with the help of Mitchell’s polar opposite teenage son, who he’s finally liking. Alas, all before Brittany learns from Morte, exactly what she’s doing wrong about getting back to her time. Sob, sob as the dudes would say.

Nor do balls have to be grand society affairs as in these three books. In Loving Lady Lazuli the fact the ball was set in Assembly Rooms in a small town, and held for everyone regardless of class, on Christmas Eve, was a good excuse to delve into a more rustic affair, with children jigging on the upstairs landing and farmer’s wives unpacking pot luck suppers. And the perfect scenario

for the heroine to go for broke with an I am Spartacus moment about who she really is. Or rather an ‘I am Sapphire,’ after she’s gone round nicking every thing she can lay her hands on and dump it on the floor, because the hero intends betraying her so what does it matter? It’s also the perfect scenario for him to show exactly the man he really is and finally admit his feelings for her.

There’s no grand ball in His Judas Bride either. Not in the wilds of Scotland at that time. There’s a supper party/ dance, where the heroine learns that her drunken, womanising, horror of a husband-to-be may have other sides to him–he’s an ‘awfie guid cook, when he lays aff the nips’ apparently. But there’s still no way she can marry him, after he insists not just on dancing with her but in her showing off the fine dancing skills she’s allegedly learnt in ‘Edinboro.’ With the emphasis on the word ‘allegedly’ and every step of what she’s making up, under the nose of her betrothed’s brother, a man nothing gets past, reminding her of the abuse she suffered for years in a prison cell, she also learns it’s time to run, as in ‘now’,

thus setting up the rest of the book.

SO yes, after much debate the current WIP does have a ball scene. Why the uncertainty? Well, that it’s being held in an abandoned house, by two people on the run and even the food on the guests’ plates is of course

nicked and not a bowl matches a plate, should be answer enough. Also I didn’t want to go for another world crashing in ruins ball scene. But equally, if a world is going to crash…….

, where better to let it fall than on a ballroom floor?

So, there you go, balls in books, balls in films. From Scarlett O’Hara leaping forward to….raise money for the ‘noble’ cause., with Rhett Butler, Anna and the King of Siam, to Maria getting up close and personal with Captain Von Trapp–AND, let’s not forget one I forgot until Rene reminded me in the comments, Jezebel where Bette Davis loses her lover over a red dress. Even if there’s no ball, there’s dancing, the romance of Dirty Dancing, of Strictly Ballroom.

So come on folks, tell me your fav ball or dance scene that way?

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Oh come on dudes, just crack open the voddie and get on with the cossack dance will you?

Last Year…

04 Monday Jan 2021

Posted by shehannemoore in blogging, highlanders, Lists of, Romance, Scottish, Uncategorized, writing

≈ 77 Comments

Tags

#Films, #Newyear, #resolutions, #Scottish

India, Slovenia, Bahamas, United States, United Kingdom, Monaco, Curacao, Timor-Leste. Brazil, Finland, Italy, Ireland, Spain, Canada, Germany. Thailand, Indonesia, France, Australia, Turkey, Nigeria, Bangladesh Roumania, Philippines, Kenya, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, Netherlands,South Africa, Uganda, United Arab Emirates, Nepal. Austria, Guatemala, Greece, Jamaica, Belgium, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Poland, Sweden, Japan, Mexico, Serbia, Columbia, Norway, Croatia, Morocco, Malta, Czech Republic, European Union, Chile, Mauritius, Israel Sri Lanka, New Zealand, Switzerland, Dominican Republic, Malaysia, Venezuela, Russia, South Korea, Albania, Iraq. Reunion, Qatar, Tanzania, Bahrain, Ukraine, Singapore, Albania, Egypt, Yemen, Peru, China, Mali, Hong King and SAR China, Denmark, Trinidad and Tobago, El Salvador, Argentina, Armenia, Libya, Cyprus, Haiti, Benin, Macedonia, Bulgaria, Zambia, Kuwait, Guam, Azerbaijan, Ghana, Panama, SLovakia, Algeria, Burkina Faso, Jordan, Hungary, Vietnam, Malawi, Sengal, Somali, Cambodia, Congo Brazzaville, Myanmar-Burma, Georgia. Angola, Ethiopia Taiwan, Syria, Zimbabwe. Gabon,. American Samoa, Kyrgyzstan.

A little slice of raunch.

https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/

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Men in Kilts. Why do we love them? https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2014/07/12/men-in-kilts-why-do-we-love-them/ via @shehannemoore

Films and Box Sets Not To Watch in a Pandemic

https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2020/04/04/films-and-box-sets-not-to-watch-in-a-pandemic/

One day in 1950s Korea

https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2020/06/05/one-day-in-1950s-korea/

Love. Seven quotes from seven books.

14 Friday Feb 2020

Posted by shehannemoore in blogging, heroes, heroines, highlanders, pirates, Romance, Scottish, Smugglers, time travel, Vikings, writing

≈ 80 Comments

Tags

Love, Valentine's Day

 

 

A dance with her wouldn’t exactly kill him. #Scottish Brides and murder

20 Thursday Dec 2018

Posted by shehannemoore in blogging, book tour, Glencoe, Guest bloggers, heroes, heroines, highlanders, New book, Romance, Scottish, writing

≈ 62 Comments

Tags

Black Wolf Books, His Judas Bride, Historical Scottish Brides, Lucia de Lammermoor, Shehanne Moore, The Bride of Baldoon, Walter Scott

Today…

Today His Judas Bride is out in paperback. FOR THE FIRST TIME.

So I thought, why not just get the dudes to help me blog this lovely blog I wrote way back about brides. Scottish brides in particular. There is surely nothing like rooting a piece of fiction in reality.  Of course I was going to get Bobby Bub to tell us all about his lovely bride Olga.

But there, as you can see he has forgotten.

I don’t think so. It might bore you so you fall asleep at your present making.

Okay so…where were we…? Yes. Rooting fiction in reality. And why, having chosen Glencoe as a setting, I then thought, well what kind of book would I want to write.

Scotland has a proud reputation for brides. Yes.

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Lucia de Lammermoor. Okay. Italian yeah I get it. An opera from the book, The Bride of Lammermoor by Walter Scott no less. Aka the Bride of Baldoon. No matter the version you accept of the story, the facts leading to the wedding day and its aftermath are always the same. She was a nobleman’s daughter in love with someone else, after the wedding feast Mr was found with a dagger in his heart.

You know I think it just was.

Then…Then there was the Cumming bride, whose lovely father agreed to her marrying into the Mackintoshes so his clan could enjoy a little banquet carve up over the hors d’oevres. When it came to exchanging rings this was somewhat difficult, since the bride’s hands had been hacked off as she clung to the castle battlements. The hand-fasting ribbons would have made wonderful bandages as you can see… had she not fallen to her death.  black pap

Or even…dare I mention it… ribbons for decorating Christmas pressies? Moving swiftly on as she did, how about the bride story that rocked Cromarty concerning a woman who appeared from nowhere, married the laird and disappeared…well she didn’t just quite disappear, she went off with a man in black.

Man as in the devil after he turned up at the feast looking for her. Neither he nor she were ever seen again and it was very clear she did not want to go with him either. What with all that inspiration, how could I not write a story about a bride?

As for the plum cake Ulla had probably labored all day to make, or maybe it was Ewen McDunnagh, it was in as many pieces as the plate it had sat on.

Talking was not a wise decision.

“Do you know I used to go about this glen, with a black wolf pelt on my shoulder?”

She didn’t. Firstly, the vision was surreal. But she didn’t want to say so, when this had gone so badly wrong and he was standing in the center of the carnage with his back to her so she couldn’t see his face.

“I got it from the devil.”

She edged a breath. Most people with any desire to go about Lochalpin dressed like that, would just have killed a wolf, maybe waited till they found a dead one to get the pelt. Him now?

“The self same day Morven died. It let me take care of quite a bit of business when I wore it.”

No wonder. If he was telling her all this, maybe she should say something? But when the things he’d said about protecting her were too unnerving, how could she? Unless they were part of the game? Bringing her here, when he was knew fine why she’d come. Part of it anyway. The other bit? All of it? She swallowed.

“Well anyway.” He straightened, strode to the door. A few muttered words were exchanged with Wee Murdie.

Kara moistened her lower lip. Had the time been spent where she should have said something?

He turned to her. “Maybe if I’d kept that pelt I’d have taken care of this business a little sooner and a bit better but I didn’t. And you’re really leaving me no choice.”

————————————————–

If he knew how to stop this he would

Desiring her could be murder.

To love, honor, and betray…

To get back her son, she will stop at nothing…

Dire circumstances have forced Kara McGurkie to forget she’s a woman. Dire circumstances force her to swear to love and honor, to help destroy a clan, when it means getting back her son. But when dire circumstances force her to seduce her fiancé’s brother on the eve of the wedding, will the dark secrets she holds and her greatest desire be enough to save her from his powerful allure?

To save his people, neither will he…

Since his wife’s murder, Callm McDunnagh, the Black Wolf of Lochalpin, ruthlessly guards heart and glen from dangerous intruders. But from the moment he first sees Kara he knows he must possess her, even though surrendering to his passion may prove the most dangerous risk of all.

 She has nothing left to fear except love itself…

Now only Kara can decide what passion can save or destroy, and who will finally learn the truth of the words… Till death do us part.

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Location in writing. Four places in #Glencoe

03 Monday Dec 2018

Posted by shehannemoore in Author Interviews, blogging, book tour, Glencoe, heroes, heroines, highlanders, Romance, Scottish, writing

≈ 59 Comments

Tags

Glencoe, Highland Romance, highlanders, His Judas Bride, Location, Location in writing, Scottish, The Deivl's Staircase, The Hidden Valley Glencoe, The Lochan Glencoe

 

Shey – Yup. Indeed I’ve been meaning to blog it and show off a few pics of that weekend….ages ago now.

 

Shey….including the moveable summit there above. I say that cos mountains in Glencoe are a bit like writing books that way. You think you’re there when you’re not. Indeed you could say that about this whole biz.

But location? Yep. Kate Furnivall said something last post about it being another character in a book and for me that says it all.   It may not have goal, motivation or conflict BUT you ignore it at your peril if you want to bring your book to life.  So I always look to choose a location, or invest a place, a house for example, with characteristics that will hopefully do that.   

Glencoe has been a special place for me, for many years.  And when it came to thinking of what I could

blog about this book, well, it’s a place of savage grandeur , I thought given I’ve a lot of different readers now, so why not the places that found their way into the book?

Besides I got Christmas baking to do and get in the freezer.

In writing His Judas Bride, I wanted to write about the Highlands as I know them. And the clans as history tells us. That’s with a lot of bloodshed and savagery, oh and double crossing. 

So….  Location one that found its way into the book–

One -The Devil’s Staircase.

The most obvious way to stop her from leaving Lochalpin—and it was written in his blood, he damn well would—was to station men at the top of the pass. He’d done that. Hell. Four days now. He’d done everything.

 

Seen above there in the snow….. which used to cut the Highlands off in the winter months often as not. So yeah, there’s a  ton of snow in this story. There’s also the Staircase.

In 1692, the path was the approach route for the (apparently delayed) troops coming from Kinlochleven to provide reinforcements for the Massacre of Glencoe in which 38 people died at the hands of billeted soldiers, who had come as ‘guests’ – the only Trojan hamster…oops… horse way in to the glen at that time.  I may have renamed Glencoe,  Lochalpin, but the Trojan horse principle is the core of the book.

Famously? In personal terms? Well the scene of a turn back off the range behind it in June, covered in ice, in Arctic conditions.  

TWO – The Hidden Valley

 Not once in the last hour, as she’d edged along that treacherous gully, expecting to pepper the rocks hundreds of feet below, with her bones at any moment, had she any idea anyone was followinghidden valle

Famously, the scene of one incident where our party handed out hotel towels– be prepared is my  mountain motto, specially with things taken from everyone else, sure the hotel was delighted NOT–and formed a chain across a raging burn to rescue a stranded party, as you do in Glencoe….

 ‘And the Macdonalds hid their stolen cows here?’  I asked the first time I was ever here.  I mean the coos must have had quite a climb, how they got along the rake with their big cloppers, never mind the one slip and that’s it bit,  I couldn’t tell you. But ideal for giving Kara second thoughts about getting out the place again once things start to fall apart.   Oh, and maybe taking you dudes to, next time I visit……

Location three

The Lochan –

Knew it, didn’t he—what a stunning specimen he was. More stunning in fact than the plate-glass loch, the iced mountains that rose like sentinels around it.

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All right…man made under the most romantic circumstances by Lord Strathcona, https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2012/09/10/she-had-seduced-him/ so here doubling as the lovely loch of Lochalpin. Naturally in the story it has a castle out on the loch, and the Black Wolf and his bunch of bandits live in underground caves on the shore…so let’s not hang about here either…..

Famously- okay, ‘fessing up here.. our party once got rid a large half tree trunk here that had been cluttering our boot.

And lastly

 Four – Eilean Munde…….

‘“Has no one told you about the Isle of the Saints, then?”

“The w-what?” But perhaps that was because she’d always been more acquainted with the Isle of the Sinners.eilean

 

No not a person. A place. The burial island  once used by the Stewarts of Ballachulish, the MacDonalds of Glencoe and the Camerons of Callart. The clans shared the island and the maintenance of the graves, even when they were responsible for putting one another in them.  Also the site of a chapel built by St. Fintan Mundus…naturally chapel and island  doubles for the Island of the Saints, a place Kara rather unwillingly becomes acquainted with. Famously in my own book of life, near the spot where we wrecked the local cafe’s grass when our car sunk into it…..

That’s good dudes, cos see that island. Next time that’s where you’re going.  And since you can’t swim it’s where you’ll be staying too. Now I am gonna to open the voddie and do the cossack dance…….

To love, honor, and betray…

To get back her son, she will stop at nothing…

 

Dire circumstances have forced Kara McGurkie to forget she’s a woman. Dire circumstances force her to swear to love and honor, to help destroy a clan, when it means getting back her son. But when dire circumstances force her to seduce her fiancé’s brother on the eve of the wedding, will the dark secrets she holds and her greatest desire be enough to save her from his powerful allure?

 

To save his people, neither will he…

Since his wife’s murder, Callm McDunnagh, the Black Wolf of Lochalpin, ruthlessly guards heart and glen from dangerous intruders. But from the moment he first sees Kara he knows he must possess her, even though surrendering to his passion may prove the most dangerous risk of all.

 She has nothing left to fear except love itself…

Now only Kara can decide what passion can save or destroy, and who will finally learn the truth of the words… Till death do us part.

https://amzn.to/2PSe9SR

 

The smell of the greasepaint……..

11 Monday Jun 2018

Posted by shehannemoore in blogging, highlanders, Scottish, writing

≈ 66 Comments

Tags

Dundee, Dundee Play, John Quinn, Juteopolis, O Halflins an Hedklers an Weaavers An Weemin., Verdant Works

Are  we serious here?

 

Come on, aye? It cannae be this much

Fraid so

I am checking the props’ list

It went this way like the script did every night.

AHHH

Fraid so.. Here’s the photographic evidence

 

 

The Duke of Sutherland clears the Highlands

Charles Trevelyn clears Ireland

Miss Perfect fae Perth

No that’s NOT William Wallace it’s my daughter….HONEST

 

‘The Romans find the Scottish weather is not to their liking. Shoulda brocht a brolly wi Italia on it

 

India has enough of the Jute Wallahs

When it comes to McGonagall as Macbeth it’s Macbeth’s death take one. The only genuine retake in the whole show.

 

Em takes up tour guiding

 

Are you two licensed to give tours? …Play’s either….Nice adlib Richard…

Does it look like it…?

What a goal….

Churchill inspects the Dundee contingent

Parliamo Dundee

Hecklers hard at work AND due a break…

The Jute Mill Song

Behind the scenes

 

 

 

 

Location…Glencoe,

13 Wednesday Apr 2016

Posted by shehannemoore in Glencoe, heroes, heroines, highlanders, Scottish, writing

≈ 50 Comments

Tags

Glencoe, Location in writing, scene setting, Setting, The Clachaig Inn, The Lochan Glencoe, writing

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https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2012/09/10/she-had-seduced-him/

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Just when you thought it was safe….Halloween in Scotland.

22 Thursday Oct 2015

Posted by shehannemoore in blogging, Halloween, heroes, highlanders, Scottish

≈ 44 Comments

Tags

Ghost stories, Halloween, Halloween in Scotland, His Judas Bride, recipes, Romance, Shehanne Moore, treacle scones

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The Black Wolf : Rough and violent. We carve up things to make lanterns.

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The Black Wolf : In the old days it was turnips, or neeps, now it’s pumpkins. They’re so much easier to chop…..zlant

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Kara : Callm, they seem so scared of us. Do you think someone has said something about us to them? 

The Black Wolf : I can’t think what. I mean, I’ve killed everyone who might say something. From the 16th century in Ireland and Scotland, the festival included folks going about dressed up, reciting  verses, or singing a song. Nowadays it’s called trick or treating, or guising. We also have parties.

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Kara ; Oh aye. We’re not savages you know. We  are very sociable. Fallon, Callm’s wee daughter plays knife throwing. fallonShe can hit a hamster at 20 paces. That was a joke by the way. Although she can. She takes after her father that way. No we play ducking or dooking for hamsters, I mean apples in a basin of water, and then there’s  the treacle game.  That’s where we hang a treacle covered hamster, sorry, scone,  on a string from the ceiling and you have to eat it with your hands tied behind your back as it swings back and forward.

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The Black Wolf : Princess, did I ever tell you how scary you are?

Kara : When I went to the bother of getting the little sods a recipe?

 The Black Wolf :  You’re not exactly a cook. Anyway, they’d probably sooner spread treacle on your shoes and eat them.

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Kara : Just the same. Here it is.

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Treacle scones.

Ingredients:
8 oz self-raising flour (all-purpose flour with baking powder in USA)
2 oz butter
1 oz caster sugar (fine granulated sugar)
Half a teaspoon of cinnamon
2 tablespoons black treacle (molasses) or golden syrup (light corn syrup)
Pinch of salt
Approximately quarter pint of milk

Method:
Sift the flour and salt into a bowl and rub in the butter. Mix in the sugar, cinnamon, treacle or syrup and enough milk to make a soft dough. Knead this on a floured surface until it is both moist and elastic. Cut into rounds. For hanging, the rounds, need to be large and flat. Hamster Dickens sitting  on them as opposed to eating them would give the idea shape.

Grease a baking sheet (cookie sheet) and place the rounds on this. Brush with a little milk and bake for 10/15 minutes in an oven, pre-heated to 425F/220C/Gas Mark 7 until golden brown. Allow to cool on a wire rack and hang. covered in treacle,  voila —to quote by late father’s (courtesy of yourself Callm), French friend–  from the ceiling.

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The Black Wolf. Better hamsters than you have asked me that. But gather round,

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let me finish this with a Scottish ghost story about a man who did.

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Several versions exist, but they all involve the Earl Beardie, thought to be the 4th Earl of Crawford playing cards at Glamis  Castle. One of Scotland’s most haunted castles.

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The clock struck 12. Midnight. It was now the Sabbath so no-one would play on.

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The earl was angry. He said he would play with the very devil himself.

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The door flew open. A tall man dressed in black walked into the room.

The stranger was, of course, the Devil, who won the nobleman’s most precious possession – his immortal soul. After his death, Earl Beardie was condemned to gamble with the Devil for all eternity. Often, at night, the sound of raucous play emanated from the fateful chamber.

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Eventually, the occupants of the castle had it sealed up.

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The Writer and The Rake

Splendor Book Trailer

O’Roarke’s Destiny Book Trailer

The Viking and The Courtesan Book Trailer

Loving Lady Lazuli Book trailer

His Judas Bride Book trailer

The Unraveling of Lady Fury book trailer

I write like
Stephen King
About Stephen King | Analyze your text
     
The Viking and The Courtesan is a Sceal Book Award finalist

The Viking and The Courtesan is a Sceal Book Award finalist

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