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| 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.
SUPER EASY TREACLE
TOFFEE RECIPE HERE!
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.
WARNING: THEY CONTAIN HOT SEX SCENES, A CRASS VAMPIRE
AND ZOMBIE STORY TELLERS, AND A DARK, GHOSTLY SHORT STORY
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
