Crowvus Book Blog

 I once answered a call for submissions based on ghost stories of my local area. Now, the funny thing with Caithness is: most people seem to believe in - and many people will share stories about how they've witnessed - supernatural happenings around the county. However, there aren't many well-known stories. Of course, there's the standard young-maiden-falling-out-of-castle-window story for at least two of the castles up here, and there's the eerie story of the man whose brother locked him up in Castle Sinclair Girnigoe with no food. Both characters feature in Caithness ghost stories. But it's high time someone actually explored the individual's ghost stories. In fact, that's something I might do, if I ever actually get sufficient time on my hands! Where are the stories which are connected to the "ordinary" buildings? We've been sharing our Stempster Spectres in our monthly newsletters and, believe me, there are plenty of those! A little further...

 Today, I'm actually sending you somewhere else for #HistFicThursdays! I'm over on Sharon Bennett Connolly's fabulous blog History... The Interesting Bits!  where I'm discussing The Bocksten Man, and the appeal nameless people in history have for Historical Fiction writers. Head over and have a read: Nameless Not Faceless . Psst! This is the book I'm talking about: To Wear a Heart So White  is available   here   on   #KindleUnlimited A cost for every action, and a price for every deed. The Historical Writers’ Forum proudly presents seven stories of Crime and Punishment, from across the ages. From an anchoress to a war hero; from Italy to Missouri; this anthology has a story for everyone. Included stories are: The Ignoble Defence  - Virginia Crow Agatha’s Eyes  - Rachel Aanstad A Pact Fulfilled  - Eleanor Swift-Hook Carte de Viste  - Ronan Beckman A Dish Served Cold  - Brenda W. Clough Shadows of the Adriatic  - Tessa Floreano A...

 Here's a little historical horror story, right in time for Hallowe'en. This is based on the macabre belief in the power of a Hand of Glory  and, while the story is fictitious, the events leading there were all true. My Mother’s Eyes to See, My Father’s Hand to Guide 1596 106 Egiptians (gypsies) were condemned to death in York. Only 9 were executed, the others able to prove their English birth. The magistrate forced the children of the condemned to watch. Cornella’s eyes welled with tears as she struggled against the hand on her shoulder. Far from being alone, scores of people stood before her, but every one of them was a stranger. She was standing on a high wall, the last in a line of youngsters. These children she did know. They were her fellow gypsy children. A second hand rested on her other shoulder, pinning her firmly in place. The people below her were gathered as though at a fair. They talked excitedly, eagerly awaiting the spectacle. Cornella felt the grip ...

☝ The story behind the Pied Piper 👆 I know I've shared my take on the traditional legend of the Pied Piper (above!) before, so here's a little story about the legacy of that legend. This is one of the early adventures of Frederik, a young pilgrim on his way to Rome, and all he encounters in the town of Hameln, some years after the legendary events... Of All The Pleasant Sights They See (first published in Hooded:Hidden) February was a cold month. Not only cold, but dark too. But the further he travelled, the longer the days became. Back at home, this change was slower. Frederik had tried only to travel in daylight. At first, he had believed his destination could be reached in a handful of weeks. After all, Father Willehad received news within the month it had been written. But his letters were delivered by emissaries on horseback. On foot it took much longer. Weeks had been an optimistic aim. And then he had become lost. Frederik had arrived in The Empire close to Advent, mak...

For today's #HistFicThursdays blog, I'm delighted to be sharing this flash fiction piece from Judith. Set in the realm of magical realism, this is a story of Ancient Greece... The Mermaid of the Aegean Thessalonike’s sigh as she awakens becomes the wind upon the waves, spiralling over the deep. The foam is her hair: the curls she inherited from her father… she still feels the water which washed them, trickling from the flask. She had laughed at how it tickled her scalp and ran into her ears as her brother poured it onto her head, his own curls bent over hers in devoted concentration. It was that memory which had propelled her from the earth and into the sea when word came of his death, casting herself into the ocean to escape a world without him. Yet she had awoken from sleep not death, her body and soul still united in the deep… and the enduring significance of that flask excruciatingly clear. Her wrath at him for destroying her death split the sea into grey ribbons, and her s...

Caledon has appeared many times. This story introduces Caledon's sixth incarnation... The Calling of Aonghas Caledon “There’s an evil abroad in the world,” croaked the minister from the front of the kirk. Aonghas heard him, but thought nothing of the words. He was not a covenanter. He was more inclined toward papist tendencies, but he had been employed as a bodyguard to Thomas Geddes, the man who now occupied the seat in front of him. And Aonghas went where the money was. He looked out the window and idly wondered what force would await them there. Surely, nothing could be as bad as Dalwhinnie. Men had lined up there, women too, with torches and farming implements to attack the small band of covenanters as they left the church. There had been a small skirmish, but no one had been killed. Aonghas and John had got Thomas Geddes to safety, and the pious man had continued northward. But the deeper they passed into the Highlands, the more tenacious the crowds became. Dornoch had been a ...