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Serenity House

Books and writing have always been an enormous part of Anita's life. She survived school by hiding out in the library, with several thousand fictional characters for company. At university, she overcame the boredom of studying accountancy by squeezing in Egyptology papers and learning to read hieroglyphics. Today, Anita writes historical fantasy novels from her home in rural New Zealand. You can find her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AWExley Be the first to hear about new releases, specials, and giveaways. Sign up at: https://awexley.com/newsletter/ In 1918 England, join an Edwardian Cinderella on her journey to defeat the undead and find her happily ever after Part 1: Ella,The Slayer Seventeen-year-old Ella copes the best she can scrubbing the floors, and slaying the undead. Then the new Duke of Leithfield arrives in the village and working alongside Seth, Ella glimpses a future she never dreamed was possible. But in overstepping society's boundaries, she could lose everything - home, head and her heart... Part 2: Alice, The Player Ella must venture down a rabbit hole, but this is no wonderland... When Alice goes missing without a trace, the new vermin queen sends an invitation--Ella is welcome to try and rescue her friend, before Elizabeth lets her subjects tear the housemaid apart. Part 3: Rory, The Sleeper Could the long dead duchess, Millicent deMage, be the key to understanding the pandemic of vermin? The final battle is looming, but this might be one fight Ella can't win, and she will be the one put to sleep forever... Part 4 Bonus: Henry, the Gaoler On the frontlines of the Great War, Henry kept a token of happier times - a worn photograph of a young girl with long blonde plaits. He returns from war damaged and vowing to do one brave thing to make up for his cowardice - release Hazel from her prison. But is it safe with the pandemic and its horrific aftermath?

A.W. Exley · Ficção Científica
Classificações insuficientes
90 Chs

Chapter 72

Part FOUR BONUS: Henry, the Gaoler

Somerset. September, 1918

Henry

The recruitment posters lied. I went to war, but doing my duty for King and country didn't make me a man.

War shattered me.

The death and horror seeped into my soul and each and every day it tore a sliver from me. Days mounted into months and then years, until only an empty husk remained. Now death shadowed my every step. Like loose hay down the back of my shirt, no matter how much I wriggled or squirmed, I could not free myself of its constant presence.

Even in this truck, death surrounded me. It wheezed in the chest of the man slumped over his knees on the bench next to me. It reflected in the blank gaze of the soldier opposite me. It reeked in the foetid rot coming from the bandages on the man stretched out on the floor at our feet.