My cottage is, of course, more than it appears. What’s the point of power if you can’t have a little fun with it from time to time? To start with, it’s not a cottage, it’s a converted barn. One of those huge old stone ones with walls two feet thick. If you come by way …
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Piety did look unwell. Anya fetched the washbowl from its stand in the corner and set it on her friend’s lap. Then she sat beside her, not too close, just in case, and asked. “Why?” “Papa’s in a private meeting in his study with Lord Craigmore.” Anya frowned, …
Bryon returned with the city guards behind him. The guard captain looked over their captured quarry, then asked. “Any reason you’ve gagged Prince Grayden, as well as trussed him like a pig for the spit?” Reba tried to look bored. “He kept trying to do deals with me. Said I could take my lad there,” …
When you’re driving out of Market Dingley, towards Wiggleswick, and take the next left after the Horseman’s Head, you’ll find yourself on a winding country lane. Just the type you see in any crime show set in rural England, just to remind you that, yes, you are in rural England, not downtown Los Angeles, or …
Reba tensed at the sound of running feet, headed her way. Beside her, Byron pulled his scarf up to cover his nose and mouth. Between that and his deep hood, you could barely tell there was a person in the shadow. A figure appeared at the end of the road they’d been assigned. He probably …
Anya’s mother handed back the square of embroidered linen. “Adequate.” That was high praise indeed, Lady Fitzgerald didn’t believe in excessive praise, or excessive anything really. Anya took the handkerchief. “Thank you, Mother.” “You need to excel in your accomplishments, Anya, if you’re to have any chance of holding a young man’s attention. You have …
The next morning, Eleanor woke slowly. She was in a comfortable bed and toasty warm. The warmth at her back shifted and became Cadan. “Morning Nora.” She checked down her body. She’d slept in her dress, again, although her stockings and boots had disappeared somewhere. She mumbled a greeting and wondered what to do. Was …
“If they catch him, they deport him, right?” Reba looked up from sharpening her knives. “Yes.” “He’d be chained up, dumped in the dankest hold of some cargo ship and dumped on the docks of Ettala like the trash he is.” Byron sounded delighted at the prospect. Reba shook her head. “He’s of the Ettalan …
I'm lucky the farmers' market rotates through the towns and villages near me, so when I find myself suddenly, inexplicably out of flour - I'm sure there'd been another sack last time I checked the store room - I can make the trip, rather than try some unappetising alternatives for the next week. I'm also …
Sarah sighed as she looked at the mess drowning the sitting room. She just could not be bothered. That was the problem with long projects and unchanging days, apathy came to visit and refused to leave. She nudged a discarded jumper out of her way with one foot. Ennui would be so much more satisfying. …
The DNA of Stories 