Today's Best Historical Fiction
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We are all looking expectantly at the darkened hallway behind the dais. She puts her hand on my shoulder. She thinks I cannot feel the tension in her muscles. I twitch my nose, trying to ward off...
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July 1742- Run. That was the single thought that filled my head. I had to run, to keep moving, or else all would be lost. My feet pounded against the raw, African earth and the evening wind whipped...
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The Towers are Falling
What Is Under Your House?
The Cherokee's Butterfly
A Red-Haired Love
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I used to dream about the world in the well by my aunt's house, that pile of rocks and wood that looked so small from the window. My cousins Frederick and Benedict loved it too, and we'd march in...