Because history is fun and love is worth working for

Category: Guest author Page 1 of 30

On the Books at Whites: Gentleman Rides Side-Saddle?

Whom Colonel Thoroton will marry has been as prolific a topic in the receiving room of every marriageable miss’s mother as it has in the betting books. After all, it’s not everyday that a man comes into possession of an estate as grand as Flintham Hall at only four-and-twenty.

But no purported wager could possibly be more ludicrous than the one rumored to have begun at White’s: Mr. Paling will learn to ride side-saddle before the Colonel becomes engaged.

Whatever shall they think of next?

Mr. Paling would do better if he turned his attention to pursuing females rather than learning to ride like them. Why, it has been years since he has been spotted dancing, in spite of his frequent attendance at Almack’s. A disgrace, if you ask me, his immaculately-tied cravat notwithstanding. And this is the gentleman sent to Nottinghamshire to force Colonel Thoroton out of mourning and into the marriage-mart where he belongs? Let us hope, for all our sakes, that Mr. Paling loses his bet and they both end up engaged before the year’s end.

Anonymous Annie,
Teatime Tattler Guest Correspondent

An Engagement of Sorts

Much to her mother’s dismay, spirited Anne Fletcher is more comfortable in breeches than ball gowns. But when she finds herself facing marriage to a man she does not love, Anne grasps at her last vestige of independence, setting in motion a desperate plan. Now all she needs is a man willing to masquerade as her fiancé.



My freedom was short-lived, for though I had been able to stretch my knees and ankles in the carriage, my hips had remained at the same angle for far too long; they were less enthusiastic to be put to sudden use. They buckled, causing me to fall face-first into what had once been a gentleman’s carefully tied black cravat.

A rather ungentlemanly voice released an oath. “Sakes alive, hussy, watch what you are about.” The uncouth man had reacted to my assault by bringing both hands to my shoulders and pushing me back until my chest rested over my own torso rather than on his. “If I had a pound for every woman who threw herself at me, I could make my own fortune.” He unhanded me like I might have lice. I looked upward into the gentleman’s—no, Colonel Thoroton’s—scowl.

His frosty look could have frozen the sun, but it flamed my pride. And unlike last time, the threat of Mother’s censure could not protect him from my wrath. “Firstly, I would never throw myself at a gentleman—obviously in name only—who is incapable of coming to my aid and instead treats me like a flea-bitten cur.” I ticked one gloved finger out at him. “Secondly, if I had thrown myself at you, I would have broken your nose rather than crumpling your oriental, which would have served you right as your nose seems bent out of shape for naught. Thirdly—”

Raucous laughter cut off my diatribe. Mr. Paling stood near, cloaked in his usual persona of gaiety and nonchalance.

In strict contrast, the colonel’s tone grew menacing as he spit out each word. “It was a mathematical, not an oriental.”

“Yes, well.” I tried to re-enact his rude turn of voice; I didn’t care if he was the emperor of China. No one spoke to me like this. “I am a lady, not a hussy. Yours was the greater blunder.”

Meet Alene Wecker

Debut novelist Alene Wecker stumbled into the profession quite by accident; she had only meant to entertain herself during a banal bout of bedrest. But the characters in her head wouldn’t leave her alone until she gave them space on the page. She hopes you will be as entertained by her characters’ antics as she was.

As a mother, voice teacher, and opera singer, she must have a penchant for fun but poorly-paid professions. She likes to pretend that her experience and master’s degree in vocal performance come in handy as she describes debutantes who, like herself, speak several languages and are frequently forced to display their mediocre skills at the pianoforte.



A Shocking Turn of Events at the Siltsbury Ball

Dear Reader,

I must report to you a shocking set of events that has the polite world reeling and convey to you my deepest regrets that, if all is proven true, a stalwart fixture of society will no longer be received.

Lady Witherspoon, who rarely misses an event of importance, was a guest at Miss Jocelyn Stafford’s birthday ball. While the guest of honor seemed to comport herself with the refinement one has come to expect from a gently-bred maiden, Lady Witherspoon sensed something was amiss and made a point of seating herself at the young lady’s table when the buffet was set out.

Her guardian, Lord Ralston, never left her side and  answered most of the questions put to the girl. When Lady Witherspoon peered into Miss Stafford’s face, she detected a tan. A tan! Miss Stafford never leaves home without her bonnet and was as pale as a ghost just last week. When she remarked on it, Ralston said Miss Stafford had taken up strolling in her mother’s garden without her head covering. Not only that, the girl’s spoken words seemed to have odd inflections.

Could this be an imposter?

Rumors, spread by servants who should know not to speak of their betters (and of course, we never listen to such gossip), have speculated that a guest spirited into Lady Siltsbury’s house two days ago late at night is not a widowed relation seeking total privacy, but another daughter who closely resembles Miss Jocelyn. Could Jocelyn have a sister? Surely not a twin.

I shudder to think of how this could be true as Lord Siltsbury departed these shores and hied off to the colonies years ago and has never returned. Of course he was a mere second son at the time. He generously allowed his wife, who is terrified of sea travel, to remain.

I will leave this with you, dear reader. If indeed Lady Siltsbury has tried to fool polite society by foisting an imposter on the ton, then shame on her. And if it is true (and I sincerely hope for the sake of all involved it is not) who is this mysterious look-alike and where is Jocelyn?

Ah, these mysteries are enough to still my faint heart. I must ring for my vinaigrette before penning my next report.

—An Anonymous Correspondent

Scandal’s Deception

Jane Stafford, raised in America, is shocked to learn she is a wealthy heiress, her late father was an earl, and her English mother is alive. Anxious to meet the woman she long-thought dead, she travels to London, only to be whisked away by her sinfully handsome guardian to a remote estate to be “schooled” in the ways of the ton.

Gilbert Carmichael, Lord Ralston, chafes at having to make a rebellious young heiress acceptable to society, especially one who is impetuous and blatantly democratic. Because the instruction she needs is more than deportment and dancing. It’s also about how to spot a rake who might woo her for her fortune.

When Ralston learns his ward is to be used as a pawn in an elaborate scheme involving a secret impersonation, he will move heaven and earth to keep her safe. Because proximity has brought the uncomfortable knowledge that his interest may be more than duty—it just might be love.

Buy Link:



Jane lowered her head as she entered Papa’s room, loathe to gaze on her father in his pale, weakened state. The darkened room smelled of camphor and some other sickly-sweet substance she couldn’t place. She dragged a wooden chair to the side of the bed and sat, her hands clasped firmly in her lap.

Papa turned his head to face her. “My dear.”

She leaned closer to hear what he had to say, her throat tightening once again.

“I’m here.” She swallowed and forced herself to look into the feverish eyes.

“You will be amply provided for. Hornsby has the details.”

“I know, Papa. I’m not worried about my future.”

He smiled and her breath caught. “After…after my funeral, he has instructions to purchase passage for you on a ship bound for England.”

Jane leaned further forward, not sure she heard correctly. “England? I shall stay here in Maryland. I do not know anyone in England.”

He turned his face away, his breaths coming faster. The doctor rose from his chair by the fire and peered into his patient’s face. “You need to rest, Mathew. Speaking is taking your energy.”

“No. I have to tell her.”

Jane picked up his cold hand, a chill skipping along her spine despite the heat in the room. “Tell me what?”

He turned back to her. “You have relatives in England who will care for you.”

She hunched her shoulders and bent closer, astonished by her father’s words. “Who?”

He closed his eyes, as if gaining strength, then opened them.

“Your mother.”

Jane squeezed his hand and shook her head. Poor Papa. How cruel for such a brilliant man to be delusional at the end. Her mother was dead. Died in childbed. She’d been told as soon as she was old enough to ask.

“I’ve written to her,” he whispered. “She’s expecting you.”

He lapsed into a coughing fit, the doctor by his side. Janie rose and moved away, her brain unable to process what she’d been told. His mind was tricking him. It must be the pain.

Maddie, standing by the door, hurried in and led Jane out of the room, seating her in a chair in the hall. She handed her the glass she still carried and told Jane to sip slowly. “You need this, child.”

Trying to process Papa’s words, Jane took the glass and held it in both hands, mesmerized by the candlelight playing on the facets of the crystal.

England. Your mother. I’ve written to her.

How odd for him to say such a thing.

She sipped from the glass and handed it back. “Maddie? Wasn’t I born in this house? You were here, weren’t you?”

“You were nearly a year old when your Papa offered me the position of both housekeeper and nanny. It was difficult for me to care for a house and a child, but he paid well so I accepted. I’ve never regretted it.”

You have relatives in England.

“Did you ever ask about my mother?”

“It wasn’t my place. I assumed she must be dead, although I found it odd he never spoke of her.”

“I assumed the same. Whenever I asked about her, he said it was too painful to discuss. So I stopped.” She stared at her tightly clasped hands. “You heard what he said?”

“I did and I have to tell you I’m bewildered.”

The door opened and the doctor came out. A long-time friend of Papa’s, Dr. Hadley shook his head. “He’s gone. I’m sorry.”

Maddie shrieked, her hand covering her mouth. Jane sat silently in the chair, cold to the core, chilled by an ugly premonition.

Her life was about to undergo a momentous change.

And not for the better.

Meet Pamela Gibson

Author of eight books on California history and seventeen romance novels, Pamela Gibson is a former City Manager who lives in the Nevada desert. Having spent the last three years messing about in boats, a hobby that included a five-thousand-mile trip in a 32-foot Nordic Tug, she now spends most of her time indoors happily reading, writing, cooking and keeping up with the antics of Ralph, the Rescue Cat. If you want to learn more about her activities go to and sign up for her quarterly newsletter and occasional blog. Or follow her in these places:








Regarding the Dangerous Population of Rakes in Our Midst

Dear Readers,

No one will deny that there is a veritable plague of rakehells, rogues, and young blades in the fair city of London. However, it has recently come to the attention of this publication that there has been an incursion of young men of this nature in our very own neighbourhood.

Furthermore, it is disturbingly evident that many residents—young women in particular, believe the countryside to be lacking in men of such vices and are therefore sadly lacking the essential knowledge of how they must be avoided.

We feel it is our duty to expunge this misconception and to caution our young ladies and their Mamas and Papas that nothing could be further from the truth.

In the interest of the public good, we have thereby taken it upon ourselves to put to paper a list, Dear Reader, of five mistakes not to make when in the very dangerous, very deadly (when one considers the potential for spiritual and moral decay) presence of such ones so lacking in tender feelings.

  1. Avoid immodest dress

To begin, we urge young women to be always perfectly neat and clean, both in your person and clothes. Be not swayed by ill-suited finery, excessive ornamentation, or worst of all, styles which reflect an indelicate mind and may lead to loss of innocence. We speak, Dear Reader, of that depraved London fashion of wetting one’s dress.

  1. Avoid improper diversions

Time is invaluable and its loss irretrievable. Look on every day as a blank sheet to be filled with worthwhile pursuits. Diversions, properly regulated, are not only allowable for young women but necessary to youth. But when taken to excess, when they lead to indiscretion or an excess of passions, they grow distasteful. Therefore, guard most carefully against that pastime which may be a danger to your modesty and even womanly chastity itself. We refer, of course, to that insidious fashion—the waltz.

  1. Avoid foolish adventures

Neither knowledge nor pleasure can accrue from indiscreet attempts by youth to seek out adventurous undertakings. We refer, of course, to the pastime of excessive walks and the seeking out of unusual locales for picnics and the like, for during such foolhardy and even dangerous excursions young women may find themselves alone and in perilous situations which the libertine or rake may use to their favor.

  1. Modesty and silence are a woman’s best weapons against the rakes and libertines who hide among us

We wish to warn young women of taking indiscreet freedoms, particularly in conversation with men. Many are of opinion that a very young woman can hardly be too silent and reserved in male company, but we recommend even more strongly that young women avoid the majority of such company altogether for fear their ears be insulted by the words of the unprincipled and their minds contaminated beyond repair.

  1. Pay no heed to erroneous advice

“A reformed rake makes the best husband” is a common opinion oft resulting in unhappy victims of the female persuasion. A man who has long been in the company of the worst sort of women is very apt to contract a contempt for females in general. Incapable of esteeming any woman, the fairer sex is a continual source of ill humour. What prospect of happiness can there be with such a companion?

Further guidance shall appear in subsequent issues of this publication.

The Editors

The Bedford Chronicle

June 3, 1818


“The enemies-to-lovers trope is Elizabeth-Darcy on steroids. […]If you love small cottages, villages, and dangerous English rain, you will love this novel’s vibe!” – Katherine Grant, Author of The Countess Chronicles

“I was absolutely bitten by the Bridgerton bug. […]  I’m so happy I went with this debut novel by Fenna Edgewood. It was a perfect ‘break into Regency’ read. […] Claire and Thomas immediately had serious Regency style chemistry and once they gave into it, they were moths drawn to a flame.” – Made Me Blush Books

A cynical rake…

The arrival of Thomas Campbell and his elder brother has the village of Bedford abuzz with excitement. Not only is Thomas tall, dark, and handsome, he is also rumored to be a most notorious rake.

Claire Gardner is young, innocent, and completely infuriating. Yet given an opportunity, Thomas can’t help teaching the headstrong beauty a lesson in desire.

A quiet life for a lady…

Content with a simple rural life, Claire Gardner has no wish for a season in London nor is she eager to wed. But after a catastrophic mistake compromises her honor, Claire finds herself ensnared in scandal.

Claire is quite certain reformed rakes do not make the best husbands. She would rather face shame than lose her freedom to a man she is convinced does not love her. But as rumors swirl regarding her ruined reputation, the condemnation of her neighbors becomes more than she can bear.

Tormented by a bitter betrayal, Thomas has steeled himself against ever loving again—but he harbors a secret which leaves him in need of a wife. Will the truth about the other woman in Thomas’s life destroy their marriage before it has even begun?

Meet the Gardner Girls:

Four devoted sisters must face pride, peril, and adventure before each finds a love that conquers all.

The Gardner Girls series is composed of standalone stories which may be read in any order. Mistakes Not to Make When Avoiding a Rake is the first book in the series, but the second chronologically.

Book Details

No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a happily ever after.

Heat Level: Sweet-with-Heat, Slow Burn

Available at Amazon:

Never Trust a Duke

Dear Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that the frosty, ever-so-proper Duke of Faircliffe is in possession of stolen artwork!

This salacious detail has also come to the attention of London’s most scandalous family: the Wild Wynchesters. Rumor has it, the painting rightfully belongs to them!

One cannot begin to guess what acts of revenge the motley family of vigilantes might wreak upon His Grace, the Duke of Icy, Yet Maddeningly Sexy Hauteur.

Graham Wynchester has been spied climbing the Palace of Westminster. Elizabeth, purchasing a deadly new swordstick. Tommy, looking disreputable and rakish. Marjorie, with paint under her fingernails. Jacob, amassing an army of highly trained… ferrets?

And as for Miss Chloe Wynchester… er… where did that girl disappear to? She is perhaps the most underestimated of all the Wynchesters. The unassuming wallflower of the bunch and yet, I suspect, the one who poses the greatest danger to the Duke of the Finely Clenched Jaw and Smoldering Gaze…

About the Book: The Duke Heist

A secret identities, forbidden love, opposites attract romance from a New York Times bestselling author: Why seduce a duke the normal way, when you can accidentally kidnap one in an elaborately planned heist?

Chloe Wynchester is completely forgettable—a curse that gives her the ability to blend into any crowd. When the only father she’s ever known makes a dying wish for his adopted family of orphans to recover a missing painting, she’s the first one her siblings turn to for stealing it back. No one expects that in doing so, she’ll also abduct a handsome duke.

Lawrence Gosling, the Duke of Faircliffe, is tortured by his father’s mistakes. To repair his estate’s ruined reputation, he must wed a highborn heiress. Yet when he finds himself in a carriage being driven hell-for-leather down the cobblestone streets of London by a beautiful woman who refuses to heed his commands, he fears his heart is hers. But how can he sacrifice his family’s legacy to follow true love?

“Erica Ridley is a delight!”

—Julia Quinn

“Irresistible romance and a family of delightful scoundrels… I want to be a Wynchester!”

—Eloisa James




An Excerpt from The Duke Heist

Chloe folded her hands in her lap and did her best not to glare a hole right through the handsome, haughty Duke of Faircliffe. His frigid blue gaze had looked right at her—and slid away just as quickly, having glimpsed nothing to attract his interest.

How many times had she and Faircliffe been in the same room? Eight? Ten? Every disdainful glance in her direction as indifferent as the last. She lifted her chin. Her father had taught her that to the right person, she would be visible and memorable. Faircliffe was clearly the wrong person.

Not that she wanted him to notice her, Chloe reminded herself. The continued success of “Jane Brown” hinged on her uncanny ability to be wholly unremarkable under any circumstances. She gripped the soft muslin of her skirt and took in all the other ladies in the parlor.

Mrs. York clapped her hands together. “And now… a celebratory tea!”

The duke’s face displayed a comical look of alarm. “I don’t think—”

“You must join us!” Mrs. York’s hands flapped like frightened birds. “The girls were about to have oatcakes and cucumber sandwiches before you arrived.”

“We were about to discuss epistolary structure in eighteenth-century French novels,” Philippa murmured.

“I never meant to interrupt,” Faircliffe said with haste. “I mustn’t stay, and in fact—”

“Nonsense! Come, come, all of you.” Mrs. York waved her arms about the room, driving her guests into the dining room like a shepherd herding sheep.

Chloe and Faircliffe were both caught in the flow.

Once they reached the door, however, Chloe stepped to one side. She could not take a seat at the table, or she would be stuck there for the next hour.

While everyone else was occupied, this was her chance to liberate the painting. But first, she needed an excuse to disappear. An adorable, furry reason.

She released Tiglet from the large wicker basket. The calico kitten darted between boots and beneath petticoats with a formidable rawr.

Mrs. York gave a dramatic shriek in response.

Tiglet scaled several curtains in search of an open window before darting out of the dining room and flying off down the corridor as though his tail were afire.

Chloe gasped, as if shocked that her homing kitten was attempting to dash home. “How embarrassing! I’ll run and find the naughty little scamp at once. Go on ahead. Please don’t wait for me.”

With her basket hanging from her arm, she ducked into the parlor and closed the door behind her. She hurried to lift the painting from the wall and carried it behind a chinoiserie folding screen in the corner. Up came the frame’s grips, off came the backing, out came Bean’s painting. She rolled it carefully and tucked it into the basket before stretching the forgery she’d brought over the wooden frame.

She ran to open the parlor door before anyone noticed it had been shut and hurried past the dining room to the front door without taking her leave from the guests. Would anyone notice she failed to return? Doubtful. If anything, the ladies would assume Jane Brown had slunk off in mortification.

Still, there was no time to waste. Any caper’s success depended upon a timely exit.

Keeping her head down, she headed down the front walk toward the first carriage in the queue. Only when she glimpsed the red curtains and a pair of leather gloves on the box did she lift her head toward the driver’s perch.

It was empty.

Her lungs caught. Where was Graham?

Distant shouts reached her ears, and her tight muscles relaxed. Something unexpected must have occurred, and her siblings’ distraction was underway.

This was her cue to flee.

Chloe pushed the basket inside, unhooked the carriage from its post, and leapt onto the coachman’s seat. Female drivers weren’t unheard of, but all the same, she was glad she never went outside without garbing herself in the plainest, dullest, dowdiest clothes in her wardrobe. No one who glanced her way would bother looking for long.

She set the horses on a swift path out of Mayfair.

Only when Grosvenor Square was no longer visible behind her did she allow herself a small smile of victory.

“Did we escape?” came a low, velvet voice from within the carriage.

Chloe’s skin went cold. Who was that? Graham wouldn’t be hiding in the back of the carriage. A stranger was in the coach! She twisted about and wrenched the privacy curtain to one side.

A handsome visage with soft brown hair and sculpted cheekbones stared back at her, glacial blue eyes wide with surprise.

Faircliffe?” she blurted in disbelief.

“Miss… er… you?” he spluttered when he found his voice. “What the devil are you doing driving my carriage?”

About the Series

The Wild Wynchesters are a uniquely talented family of caper-committing siblings who don’t let High Society’s rules stop them from righting wrongs.

You can grab a FREE prequel: The Governess Gambit!

Meet the Wild Wynchesters: This fun-loving, caper-committing family of tight-knit siblings can’t help but find love and adventure!

Years ago, Chloe Wynchester and five other uniquely talented orphans were adopted by a wealthy baron with a secret mission: The motley Wynchester family fights for justice from the margins of high society. And the handsome, clever duke Chloe has long admired proves to be her worst enemy…

An unscrupulous boarding school is exploiting orphans in a secret workhouse. Baron Vanderbean plots a daring rescue. When illness befalls him, Chloe must take the reins. But how can a lifelong wallflower lead the charge to save the children?




Erica Ridley is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of witty, feel-good historical romance novels, including the upcoming THE DUKE HEIST, featuring the Wild Wynchesters. Why seduce a duke the normal way, when you can accidentally kidnap one in an elaborately planned heist?

In the 12 Dukes of Christmas series, enjoy witty, heartwarming Regency romps nestled in a picturesque snow-covered village. After all, nothing heats up a winter night quite like finding oneself in the arms of a duke!

Two popular series, the Dukes of War and Rogues to Riches, feature roguish peers and dashing war heroes who find love amongst the splendor and madness of Regency England.

When not reading or writing romances, Erica can be found riding camels in Africa, zip-lining through rainforests in Central America, or getting hopelessly lost in the middle of Budapest.


Want more free books? Join the VIP list at for members-only exclusives, including advance notice of pre-orders, as well as contests, giveaways, freebies, and 99¢ deals!

Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads









The Incident on Arlington Street

Dear Reader:

You are no doubt aware that the stunning news of Bonaparte’s escape from Elba caps a week of utter chaos. Events of this week in Mayfair are beyond any I might have imagined in this most civilized and prosperous of countries. It is appalling that hordes of rioters have swamped the streets, broken into homes and vandalized belongings. I have heard various tales of mayhem and attacks on Members of Parliament from many of my well-placed correspondents, most of which have been reported elsewhere.

However, one fearless correspondent with first-hand knowledge informs me that these attacks weren’t limited to government officials. Dear Reader, you will find this story nowhere else!

On Thursday night past, a carriage was attacked on Arlington Street. The occupant was a lady on her way to a rout at Lady Camden’s. Her coachman and two liveried servants were unable to drive off the mob, and she was pulled from the carriage by ruffians. Fortunately, Horse Guard arrived in time to rescue her and, it was assumed, returned her home to safety.

Yet, later that evening, a curious thing happened. A Scottish Military Officer burst into the Arlington Street home of Lady Camden, seeking another Scotsman. The other man was not there, but our reporter had the distinct impression that the man being sought was Up to No Good.

But there is even more from our diligent correspondent, and I will share the story in that individual’s own words:

My dear Mr. Clemens,

Following my report of the Incident on Arlington Street and Lady Camden’s Scottish visitor, I have received further information.

The lady attacked by the crowd is newly arrived to town, residing with a relative in Chelsea, and not unrelated to the Scottish officer who visited Lady Camden. In fact, both the lady and the officer were players in a scandalous divorce from twenty years past, one so notorious that news of it (as it took place in the Highlands) reached even the London papers.

Further, I have learned that the attack on the lady was not a random act of the mob, but a targeted attempt at abduction! Nor was she safely returned to her home on Thursday last.

My source in Chelsea hints of a diabolical intrigue to this story. I will visit there later today and report further. Your readers will not want to miss this story!

About the Book

Fated Hearts, A Love After All Retelling of the Scottish Play

Plagued by hellish memories and rattling visions of battle to come, a Scottish Baron returning from two decades at war meets the daughter he denied was his, and the wife he divorced, and learns that everything he’d believed to be true was a lie. What he can’t deny is that she’s the only woman he’s ever loved. They’re not the young lovers they once were, but when passion flares, it burns more hotly than ever it did in their youth.

They soon discover, it wasn’t fate that drove them apart, but a jealous enemy who played on his youthful arrogance and her vulnerability. Now that old enemy has resurfaced, more treacherous than ever. When his lady falls into a trap, can he reach her in time to rescue this love that never died?

Universal link:

About the Author

Award winning and USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California, where she shares a midcentury home with her husband and a spunky, blond rescued terrier. She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. Though hard at work on her next series of romantic adventures, she loves to hear from readers!


Amazon Author Page







Newsletter signup:


Fated Hearts is part of the Tragic Characters in Classic Lit Series

Other books in the

Tragic Characters in Classic Literature Project


The Monster Within, The Monster Without

by Lindsay Downs (Frankenstein)

I Shot the Sheriff

by Regina Jeffers (Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham)

The Colonel’s Spinster

by Audrey Harrison (Pride and Prejudice)

The Redemption of Heathcliff

by Alanna Lucas (Wuthering Heights) 

The Company She Keeps

by Nancy Lawrence (Madame Bovary)

Captain Stanwick’s Bride

by Regina Jeffers (The Courtship of Miles Standish)

Glorious Obsession

by Louisa Cornell (Orpheus and Eurydice)



Page 1 of 30

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén