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Most Recent Historical Fiction

Here is the most recent historical fiction:

A View of a Jew
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My name is Eliza Hummens. I am a Jewish girl, growing up in the troubled times of World War II. My family and I are constantly on the run. We are too scared to trust anyone and too hunted to make new friends. I have never gotten much schooling... (more »)
The Man Behind the Gun
I'd heard the dawn's all the more beautiful on the day of your death. I'd heard the sun shafts pierced the gloom more brightly, igniting a spectrum of colours to burst into flame, and you grew a new fondness for the gossamer... (more »)
Needing the Pain This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.
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         He said it was our war. I didn’t believe him. Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to believe him – believing him was like opening a cage door and having every thing that ever dragged you down flying out. But it wasn’t our war. It was... (more »)
The Fiends
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The night was dark. The soil was wet from the rain an hour beforehand. We had been traveling from France to Spain. Near Montpellier, my guards and I stumbled across a small village. The huts and homes seemed empty and abandoned. It was not so as... (more »)
The Trials
By , Hudson, NH
I am quite shocked at what has happened over the past few months in our small town of Salem.  First the witchcraft rituals and then the trials.  It was a few days after my birthday.  I was especially excited because my mother had sewn me a... (more »)
An Encounter at Charing Cross
By , Lancaster, PA
Charing Cross Station London, England November 22, 1889 “But when’s she gonna be here?” Jamie whined incessantly. “She’ll get here when she get’s here. You know Aunt Jo likes to take her time. Alice, maybe you can talk some... (more »)
A Slave´s Vision This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.
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                                A Slave´s Vision    I, Emily Whitaker, fifteen year-old and house slave of Clyde Whitaker, vowed to be a life-changing woman for the slaves of Maryland and of course, the world. But, this... (more »)
The Truth About War
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My Name is Jacob Hershberger and this is my record of my stay with the 142nd Pennsylvania. July 2, 1863 It’s dark and cold, wind howling, owls hooting. It’s quiet, but I still can’t sleep. I remain awake, because I know that... (more »)
The Soldier This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.
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 A figure moved down the road—quietly and calmly—a dusty shadow with no name to the people who passed him. Some would look at him and stare. Some would twist their face, mirror his agony with the look flickering in their eyes. Some would... (more »)
The Scoundrel and the Pear
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Golden light reflects around the momentous ball room from the extravagant chandelier that almost dwarfs the room. Each individual crystal that hangs precariously from the light fixture has been hand crafted to perfection by the best glass-worker... (more »)
Agnes Aleck
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The narrator, Agnes Aleck, is a 10 year-old slave who recounts the time he escaped death at the age of 6.   My name is Agnes-- Agnes Aleck. I am a 10 year old boy who is a slave, but I am able to read and write. I live on the property of... (more »)
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   Nestled deep within the swampy wetlands of Rome is a place known only as the Marsh. A secluded, miry stretch of land protected by steep, slippery bluffs; dark, muddy trenches; and lakes of quicksand, all encased in an interlaced web of... (more »)
I have a dream
I have a dream I have a dream to make a difference. Not something huge, but a difference. A difference that would have people thanking me for the little difference I made. I have a dream. I have a dream to be the best person I can be. I... (more »)
The Unimportant Legacy of a Forgotten Templar
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The year was 1099; a tall and broad shouldered man walked blissfully in the valley of Kidron, a  20 mile stretch of land just East of Jerusalem. With him was a squadron of elite Templar Knights and holy men, all of which were under his command.... (more »)
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I am Jonathan Miller, one of six men that was sent to support another unite that had been in a firefight for seven hours. We ran to their location as fast as we could, but we were too late.  They were ripped to shreds; it looked like they had... (more »)
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I approach her slowly, letting my money rattle around quietly in my pocket. My shoes make the now-familiar clicking sound against the empty London alleyway stones as I step forward. "How much have you got, mister?" she asks, painted face... (more »)
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