At the edge of the still, dark pool that was the sea, at the brimming edge of freedom where no boat was to be seen, she spoke the first words of the few they were to exchange. ‘I cannot swim. You know it?”
In the dark she saw the flash of his smile. ‘Trust me.’ And he drew her with a strong hand until the green phosphorescence beaded her ankles, and deeper, and deeper, until the thick milk-warm water, almost unfelt, was up to her waist. She heard him swear feelingly to himself as the salt water searched out, discovered his burns. Then with a rustle she saw his pale head sink back into the quiet sea and at the same moment she was gripped and drawn after him, her face to the stars, drawn through the tides with the sea lapping like her lost hair at her cheeks, the drive of his body beneath her pulling them both from the shore. They were launched on the long journey towards the slim shape, black against glossy black, which was the brigantine, with Thompson on board.
Tag: historical-fiction description
Like the magnolia tree,
She bends with the wind,
Trials and tribulation may weather her,
Yet, after the storm her beauty blooms,
See her standing there, like steel,
With her roots forever buried,
Deep in her Southern soil.
Tag: historical-fiction civil-war france historical-romance carolina-rain nancy-b-brewer best-seller civil-war-romance-novella
The great city seemed to weigh upon me, as though it were crushing me under its heap of brick and stone. Gray, drizzly skies, congested streets, the soot-belching boats and barges chugging up and down the Thames, the teeming mass of four millions hastening about the countless activities of daily life in a metropolis, things adventurous, meaningful, spiritual, quotidian, futile, criminal, meaningless and absurd. Amidst this seething stew of humanity, I painted.
Gary InbinderTag: art historical-fiction london victorian
The best way to take control over a people and control them utterly is to take a little of their freedom at a time, to erode rights by a thousand tiny and almost imperceptible reductions. In this way, the people will not see those rights and freedoms being removed until past the point at which these changes cannot be reversed.
Pat MillerTag: historical-fiction
Don't you understand brother? I want to find a love...that will free me from this love...
Neil JordanTag: historical-fiction historical-romance incest
I am afraid of him now. The one I love most in the world.
Neil JordanTag: historical-fiction historical-romance incest
You are intelligent, you are diplomatic, you are beautiful, and you are and always will be...[he kisses her]...MINE...
Neil JordanTag: historical-fiction historical-romance
A prince may be seen happy today and ruined tomorrow without having shown any chance in his character. For the prince who relies entirely on fortune is lost when it changes...
Neil JordanTag: historical-fiction
Why write about the past? Well, there's more of it.
John CleeseTag: writing history historical-fiction funny
Elsa's mother no longer spoke to her of men and love, but of duty and fate and accepting one’s burden. As far as Elsa could tell, if love really was the inherited female domain, then women were saddled with the biggest burden of all. It was pressing down upon them, the way the sea pressed down upon the creatures of the deep.
Kathy-Diane LeveilleTag: historical-fiction suspense romance-novel women-s-fiction literary-fiction historical-fiction-mystery
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