The Weight of Ashes
The air reeked of burnt oak and iron. Clara knelt in the dirt, her fingers digging into the soil as the distant boom of cannon fire rattled the windows of the farmhouse. The sky above Richmond had turned the color…
Historical Fiction
Read MoreThe Weight of Ashes
The Unforgiving Horizon
Clara tightened the straps of her leather satchel as the dust of Red Rock Town clung to her boots. The sun hung low over the cracked earth, casting jagged shadows across the town’s wooden buildings. She had traveled three days…
The Silent Cipher
The air in the attic reeked of mildew and old paper, a scent that clung to Clara’s sleeves as she crouched beneath the floorboards. Her fingers trembled, not from the chill of the draft seeping through the cracks, but from…
Dust and Ember
Clara Hartman stepped off the stagecoach in Redding, California, her boots crunching on gravel as the sun beat down like a hammer. The air reeked of dust and coal smoke, a sharp contrast to the pine-scented breeze she’d known in…
Dust Creek
Clara stepped off the creaking wagon, her boots sinking into the dust of Dust Creek. The town sprawled before her, a patchwork of sagging tents and ramshackle buildings, their wood bleached by sun and time. A bell clanged somewhere, distant…
The Iron Heart of Clara Voss
Clara Voss wiped her hands on a greasy rag, the scent of oil and burnt coal clinging to her skin like a second layer. The camp was a fever dream of dust and noise—hammers clanging, voices rising in a cacophony…
The Iron Veil
The first cannon fire split the sky over Gettysburg on July 1, 1863, and Clara Whitaker pressed her palms against the damp earth, feeling the tremor in her bones. The air reeked of sulfur and sweat, a stench that clung…
Whispers of the Forgotten
The air reeked of burnt parchment and iron as Eleanor traced the cracks in the courthouse floor, her fingers brushing against dust that had settled for decades. Outside, the bell tower’s iron clapper swung wildly, its clangs slicing through the…
The Weight of Ashes
The first time Clara saw the boy, he was crouched in the mud, his uniform soaked through, a crimson stain blooming across his chest like a bruise on the earth. She knelt beside him, fingers trembling as she pressed a…
The Ashes of Brooklyn
The air reeked of gunpowder and damp earth as Thomas Whitaker crouched behind a splintered fence, his fingers numb around the musket stock. The sky hung low, a bruise of clouds swallowing the sun, and the river behind him glowed…
The Gilded Veil
The sun hung low over the Sierra Nevada, casting long shadows across the dirt streets of Redding Creek. Clara Voss tightened her grip on the rusted revolver at her hip, her boots crunching over gravel as she approached the saloon.…
The Dust of Yesterday
Eliza’s wagon creaked like a wounded animal as she guided it through the jagged silhouette of the Sierra Nevada. The air reeked of pine and dust, a dry, acrid scent that clung to her throat. Her hands, calloused from weeks…
The Weight of Ashes
The air reeked of saltwater and smoke as Clara Bennett stepped off the creaking boat, her boots sinking into the mud of San Francisco’s dock. The year was 1849, and the town was a fever dream of tents, wagons, and…
The Unseen Thread
The air hung thick with the scent of turned earth and burned wood as Elara knelt in the garden, her fingers digging into the soil. The sun had not yet risen, but the sky was a bruised purple, streaked with…
The Unseen Veil
The air reeked of brine and coal smoke as Clara stepped off the creaking gangplank, her boots sinking into the muck of San Francisco’s docks. The year was 1849, and the city was a fever dream of tents and timber,…