I'm thrilled to invite Francesca Capaldi to my blog today. Francesca shares her insight into researching materials for the historical ...

" She wiped her face, looked down at her hiking boots. That was why she needed this trip. Needed to walk with these women. She felt so ...

  " The sky wore a pastel-blue cape, with gossamer strands of feather-like clouds trailing its length. The sea glistened under a weak s...

  " I was running hard, gasping for breath in a dark, damp lane interspersed by shards of moonlight. From what or to where? I had no id...

  Murder at The Crooked Horse After learning of a suspicious attempt to burn down a beloved old pub, The Crooked Horse, Libby Sarjeant and h...

  " Land. I heard its song, sensed its heat. The raven stopped perching on me, trying to reach my land before me. Whatever Odin could ...

  " Still, it felt to Mila as if Elisabeth's anxiety, real or imagined, had pervaded the very fabric of the house. It was contagiou...