26 October 2012

Treacle, Treason, and a Ghostly Tale for 5th November!

Buy Treacle and Treason HERE!

by JoAnne Kenrick 

Bonfire Night is the Brits alternative holiday to Thanksgiving that keep us going through the long winter months. Gives us something to look forward to. There's no turkey or trimmings. But there is family. And lots of fun!

I've fond memories of the local annual Bonfire Display ran by the Fire Department. For a pound, you got to stand in a muddy farmer's field--yes, wellington boots (rain boots) are worn by all--where a temporary fun fair is set up, hot dog stands and candy floss is for sale, and there's toffee apples! Yup, I know. Toffee apples are for Halloween in the States. They kind of are in the UK, too. But mostly, they're for Bonfire Night. In fact, 5th November is all about the treacle toffee! It's hard, it's tasty, and it can get you in all kinds of sticky messes...as Tansy learns in Treacle and Treason, my latest Tale from the Coffin in The Edge series.

Remember, remember, the fifth of November. Gunpowder, treason and plot. I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.” She chanted the infamous rhyme while sneaking toward the basement made of legend; the ghost of the infamous betrayer himself had been spotted there on several occasions, and on the fifth of November, no less.
“Show yourself, Guy Fawkes,” she whispered.
“Miss, you’re trespassing.”

The main purpose of 5th of November is to celebrate the bringing down and capture of Guy Fawkes after his attempt at blowing up parliament failed. We build a fake guy and throw him on top of a bonfire to watch him burn. During which, lots of fireworks and hand sparklers are enjoyed by all.

I'm sure the majority of Brits don't even think of Guy Fawkes during these celebrations, but I always did. Always wondered about the man behind the legend. Pondered if he really did it. About his story, or if he'd left a family behind. Even more so during 'penny for the guy' activities; similar tradition to trick or treat, only you drag your guy around (meant for the bonfire on 5th November) in a wheel barrow and go door to door asking for a penny for the guy. 

It's this wonderment that led to Estella sharing this Treacle and Treason story, a retelling of Britain's most infamous bad guy!

Ghostly, sexy, and romantic. That's how I saw his tale. And tragic. A not so modern day tale of Romeo and Juliet.

She spun and spat out her rehearsed excuse. “I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, so sorry.” But during her imaginary practice run, not once had she bumped into a sexpot.
Not one dressed up as Guy himself, anyway. Very authentic, with the hat and shoe buckles. The works; even had a curled-up moustache. He looked like he’d stepped out of a history book or off the cover of one of her romance books. Gorgeous. Any minute, she expected him to pop the buttons off his shirt and show his manly six-pack. Oh yeah, baby. She could work with that.
“My mistake, miss. I didn’t know it was you.” He took his hat off and brought it to his chest for an exaggerated bow. All the while, he stared at her with eyes aglint with mischief. Perfect, because that’s what Tansy looked for in a man.
“Do I know you? Oh my gosh, your outfit is so cool,” She fell over her own words in a scramble not to ask him out to dinner or for a shag before he’d even introduced himself. “Did you get it custom made for tonight?”
“We’re not strangers. We’ve sipped tea together. Strolled gardens. Rolled in the hay. Remember? Guy Fawkes? Am I missing a vital sign here? Did I misread your intentions? Are you not ready to start a new life in the Netherlands? To take care of your husband and bear my children?” He moved in close, his breath skimming her lips, and claimed her mouth. His passion overwhelmed her; suffocating, intoxicating. Can’t breathe.
Tansy pulled back to pinch her cheeks. Was this Guy for real? Or a delightful dream? Maybe she’d fallen while running down the alley. Bumped her head? Or it could be those guys at the bank. Perhaps they followed her to play a prank? Well,
fine. She could play along. Never let it be said she was a stick in the mud. “Won’t making those children be fun?” She puckered up and blew him a kiss.
He met her lips with his again, and this time the kiss was soft and more considerate. Loving.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed his body against hers. She came over peculiar. Lights danced in her sight. She swayed. A floral scent hit her, and she drifted to a sweet, standing slumber for a second. When she came to, she felt different. 


Tales from the Coffin stories are erotica ghost type stories, and do not always (actually barely ever) have happy ever afters. These stories are quite different from my romance books.

AUTHOR BIO: Born n bred Brit, JoAnne Kenrick grew up in a wee sea-side town in North Wales and has enjoyed a variety of vocations such as holistic healer, window dresser, and ghost tour guide. Having lived in Wales, England, and Scotland with her dear family, she finally escaped the dull British summers to reside in sunny Australia. After two years, they moved to the States where she endured three harsh winters in Minnesota. She now lives in North Carolina with her husband, two kids and two puddy cats. When they aren't demanding her attention, or jumping on her head, she strums away on the keys of her little laptop, creating worlds and adventures she could only ever dream of. Come across the pond and faraway....with JoAnne Kenrick! Get exclusive sneak peeks at her new and upcoming releases by signing up to her quarterly newsletter here: http://tinyletter.com/joannekenrick

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