Kilchoan, Mainland Scotland 1672 Swathes of wet hair clung and tangled around her face in a heavy curtain, enough to obscure her view as another spasm seized her. Pain far worse than she’d ever imagined wrenched through her, and clutched deep into her belly to tear at her insides. Pride refused to allow her to cry out. As she surfaced, she snatched another lungful of air. The frigid waters chilled her to the bone, sending a fresh rash of shudders through her between each painful contraction. The villagers crowded closer, faces twisted with fear and rage. People she’d known all her life, people she loved. Women she’d tended in childbirth, and men whose wounds she’d healed. The sentiment turned vicious as the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon rose in the darkened sky. After a full day of her tied to the ducking stool, their disgust in her was palpable at not obtaining the confession they sought. How could she confess to something that wasn’t true? She’d never consorted wi
Showing posts from June, 2017
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One of my lovely fans asked me "where are the wordz?" but I do like to tease, so here's the fabulous new cover, and... oh go on then, you can have some words. Blurb Since the age of ten when his father died, and he lost his childhood, cynical journalist Stuart Caldwell has searched the world in his quest to find the key to his family’s centuries-old curse. What he finds when he lands on the Scottish island of Breggar is far from what he expects. Instead of a battle to the death with the ferocious witch he believes resides there, Stuart finds he is the one in the firing line, and the target is his heart. And I promise you can have an excerpt next time.
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