Loyal Readers,
Our attention has been riveted by a most unfortunate bit of news from America, which as you know is mired in that horrid Civil War. We have it on good authority that a certain young woman (EW) will be hosting a large number of the Union army on her (SM) property. Should we expect a white flag to hang from her front gate soon?
How has this come to be? Could it have something to do with the afternoon she spent entertaining a certain handsome (according to sources) Colonel? She was spotted by several of the townsfolk just a day or so ago talking to the very same man in front of The Griddle, as he helped her from her buggy. Was the interlude planned? One wonders. If EW had not planned to meet him, would she not have ridden into town with one of the people? Alone, she thought she was able to move about unobserved.
So, why is all of this history important? Well, we are familiar with the independent streak the young woman possesses, as well as her prowess with a gun, having been schooled by her very own brother, a high-ranking officer for the Confederacy. In fact, many of our young sons joked about her ability to pick off a rabbit quicker than most—just before they signed up to fight for the Cause.
But according to sources, who we always protect as part of our neighborly pledge, she almost killed the Colonel when he visited her recently. As proof of that, The Mercantile affirmed the purchase of large quantities of new plaster and wood to be delivered to SM, her property.
This same colonel and his equally intriguing lieutenant were spotted paying a visit to her yesterday. This was after large amounts of horse feed, tents, and related gear was loaded up in wagons with orders to deliver to SM. According to facts as were related to us, our sharpshooting young miss nearly killed the Colonel with her Papa’s shotgun. Of course, it was a mistake, but it is curious that she would be so distracted as to misfire—something that her reputation would tell us never happens!
Folks of New Bern, we bear a responsibility to guide our young people. We need to turn those who stray from the right path back onto the road. Our concern is that there is a young child of five whose sensibilities could be compromised by the activity that his sister (and guardian) is planning. We all know she is without her Mama and her Papa, who recently left to find her brother, all while still grieving the loss of his wife. So, it is with concern and a heavy heart that we call upon all the decent folk to help intervene. If not for the salvation of this young woman’s soul, please do it for the sake of our beloved sister—SM’s dear departed Mama—and see that she is righted on the virtuous path. Unannounced visits would be a good thing to do.
Stay tuned. This story will undoubtedly continue and must be told!
About the Book, Embers of Anger
Ella Grace Whitford was Southern charm at its finest until the war hit. Her hometown felt sure their Southern boys would protect them, but they were wrong. Suddenly, she is on her own, with limited resources and the care of her little brother and his new puppy. Nothing was as she had known it, and everything she believed in was about to be challenged.
Colonel Jackson Ross was given the responsibility for law, order, and stability after the town of New Bern, NC fell to the Union forces. His rugged good looks, charm, and military bearing are difficult enough to ignore.
But when this charismatic commander of Burnside’s third brigade finds out that Ms. Whitford is living with little protection on a large plantation adjacent to the town, he knows he must come up with a solution to protect her. As dangerous secrets emerge, he must choose between protecting her or remaining loyal to the Union. Will his decision bring them both ruin– and possible death?
Click here to read for free (Kindle Unlimited)! https://www.bit.ly/2Gj4smASCEmbers
About the Author
Anna St. Claire is an avid reader, and now author, of both American and British historical romance. She and her husband live in Charlotte, North Carolina, where their once empty nest has filled with her cat, two dogs, and her two granddaughters.
Anna relocated from New York to the Carolinas as a child. Her mother, a retired English and History teacher, always encouraged Anna’s interest in writing, after discovering short stories she would write in her spare time.
Her fascination with history and reading led her to her first historical romance—Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With The Wind. The day she discovered Kathleen Woodiwiss,’ books, Shanna and Ashes In The Wind, Anna was hooked. She read every historical romance that came her way. Today, her focus is primarily on the Civil War and Regency eras, although Anna enjoys almost any period in American and British history.
She would love to connect with any of her readers at annastclaireauthor@gmail.com
You’d think that all would be well, what with Napoleon now exiled to the distant tropical island of St. Helena, but Paris in July 1815 is a deuce of a mess. So now I must assist Lord Forgall, Wellington’s most secret spymaster, to quell any resistance while we get King Louis XVIII’s fat old backside firmly re-settled on the French throne.
Miss Emma Forgall waved her fan lazily. “Where in Ireland are you from?”
About the Author
Now you owe me because there’s more. It isn’t just the boy that washed up in Macao. A girl followed him—Sudbury’s oldest girl, the uppity one too proud to so much as dance with any gent lower than a duke, the one with the weird Arabic name. Superintendent Eliot and his wife put it out that they’re hosting her on Sudbury’s behalf, but I doubt Sudbury even knows where she is. I saw her myself going in and out of Eliot’s house as swanky and stuck up as ever she was in London, every inch the duke’s daughter, but I heard rumors.
I got myself an invitation to dinner by one of the China traders, Harold McIlroy. It cost me a pretty penny in drinks at the club where they all congregate, but it was worth it. The ladies of Macao dig dirt with the best of them. I got an earful, I can tell you. I don’t see how it can all be true, but where there’s smoke, there has to be at least an ember or two.
The Chit has nerve. All Macao knows what she is, but she parades around town while a little servant hops along behind her holding some fancy parasol on a bent handle to keep the sun off her like she’s some short of rajah’s female. I cornered the little weasel, a Chinese boy who looks like at least one Portuguese tomcat got at his great-grandfather’s tabbies. Name’s Filipe. The boy talked about the trollop like she’s the queen herself. Calls her “Lady Zamb.” I think he’s half in love with her. Wouldn’t say a bad word. Talked about her like she’s some kind of saint, and I know for fact she isn’t that. He told me to ask the woman who runs the mission school. One of the Quakers. He had to be lying. I can’t see a prune-faced female missionary tolerating the sort those women at McIlroy’s described.
Crushed with grief after the death of his son, Charles Wheatly, Duke of Murnane throws himself into the new Queen’s service in 1838. When the government sends him on an unofficial fact-finding mission to the East India Company’s enclave in Canton, China, he anticipates intrigue, international tensions, and an outlet for his frustration. He isn’t entirely surprised when he also encounters a pair of troublesome young people that need his help. However, the appearance of his estranged wife throws the entire enterprise into conflict. He didn’t expect to face his troubled marriage in such an exotic locale, much less to encounter profound love at last in the person of a determined young woman. Tensions boil over, and his wife’s scheming—and the beginnings of the First Opium War—force him to act to rescue the one he loves and perhaps save himself in the process.
Perhaps she will give a hint to the Heavenly Iceberg, Lady Sherida Dearing, who was also in attendance, though left to the questionable attentions of that handsome scapegrace, Lord Baxendene. One can only surmise the Great Bax is losing his touch for no hint of a thaw was noted. Lady Sherida should consider that even icebergs of the heavenly variety lose their freshness if left too long in the ice house!
The Earl of Windermere Takes a Wife
About the Author
Mary Fisher went about her business as her mistress directed, even with the house in an uproar and the mistress preoccupied with worry. The whole staff had more work than usual, what with a wedding the day before. She carried her bucket and rags carefully up the servant stairs to the third level with great care so as not to spill a drop, an effort that proved futile when a hand snaked out, grabbed her free arm, and pulled her into the linen closet. The door slammed shut.
Reclusive businessman Rand Wheatly finds his solitude disrupted by a desperate woman running with her children from an ugly past. But even his remote cabin in Upper Canada isn’t safe enough. Meggy Blair may have lied to him, but she and her children have breached the walls of his betrayed heart. Now she’s on the run again. To save them he must return to face his demons and seek help from the family he vowed to never see again.
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