On the mantle, a photograph in a tarnished frame showed a stern man, two children, and a woman with a hauntingly blank stare.

The canyon stretched before them under a half-moon. Cattle shuffled along the dusty trail below. Someone was stealing her livestock again.

An audible gasp escaped several nearby matrons. Juliet accepted the bouquet with trembling hands, conscious of the sudden silence that fell around her. Yellow roses—the flower of betrayal and broken promises. To receive such a gift at a public gathering was tantamount to social ruin.

"Foxes don't talk," she said automatically,...The fox's whiskers twitched in what might have been amusement. "And humans don't lose their shadows—unless the fair folk steal them."

Margaret Abernathy found the journal six months after Robert died....Then a name appeared that she’d never heard before.

Millicent sighed. At sixty-two, she had weathered enough society storms to know that scandal was as inevitable in their circles as rain in an English spring. “And you’re certain it was him? The fog has been terribly thick these past evenings.”

Lyra’s head snapped up, her eyes, usually so veiled, flashing with a desperate hope. She moved to the bars, her fingers clutching them, knuckles white. “They… they bought me,”

Harold listened intently, his expression serious. “Those townies are all bluster. But you gotta be careful. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you scared.” He then grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Though I gotta admit, using Maharani as backup was a stroke of genius!”

This week, I invite you to step inside the misty world of Greystone Hall and spend a few moments with Annabelle Greystone.

A gentle breeze was blowing outside, and the open window caused the wind to rustle her curtains.

Three weeks had passed since consumption had claimed Catherine, her only sibling and closest companion. Their parents had departed years earlier, leaving the sisters to rely solely upon each other. Now, at twenty-six, Adelaide was utterly alone in their modest townhouse in Bloomsbury.

But Eilis saw the flash of fear in her mother’s eyes when the baby turned its golden gaze toward her. That evening, when this unusual creature refused to nurse and remained silent even as her mother sobbed over it, Eilis watched her father place protective herbs above the doorframes.

As they ascended the stairs, she whispered, “Maybe the lamplighter will make you an offer.” Eugenie stopped, turning wide-eyed.

One of those? You never raised a red tent.

Six months after Rupert’s death, Josephine still felt unsettled. She needed to know if perhaps he was waiting on the other side with a message for her or their children.

He was 15 when the circus rolled into town one crisp, autumn day. For a week the townsfolk patronized The Greatest Show on Earth...

Annabelle’s fingers fumbled for the matches. She lit a fresh candle with trembling hands and turned to face the figure forming in the mist.

A splash of color caught her eye near the garden fence; delicate purple and yellow blooms pushing up through the thawing soil. Pansies.

Jed Smith takes his job riding for The Pony Express seriously as he traverses the plains and mountains to deliver the mail.

She had finally unpacked her gown meant for her wedding. Cream and lavender with lace collar and cuffs, she knew she looked pretty.