The Silver Pen
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A Scalding Cup of Tea Part 2 (of 2)
It had been Peter’s promise of America that kept Mary going—the thought of a new life beyond servitude, beyond the endless polishing of silver and mending of lace.
Elspeth and the Whispering Tree
“There was once a tree,” he murmured. “High up in Glen Brae, where no one goes now. My mother used to say it remembered things folk had lost. Names, songs, and promises. She called it the Ash That Whispers.”
A Conversation with Annabelle Greystone
The halls creak when no one walks them, and some of the mirrors don’t reflect quite right. But it’s home—cold, drafty, and full of ghosts… of memory, if not of men.
The Mist at Greystone Hall
The candle on the table flickered violently, though no wind stirred. A sudden chill slid over her shoulders, and Tabitha looked past her—ears flattened, eyes wide.
A Promise of Spring
She dropped to her knees, the chill of the damp ground seeping into her skirts. The flowers had broken through despite the frost, their purple petals lifting toward the sky as if welcoming the sun’s hesitant return. A lump formed in her throat.
A Scalding Cup of Tea, Part 1 (of 2)
As Mary looked out the gleaming glass into the courtyard, she shivered. Thick fog shifted and swirled between the walls of the large stone house.