Back from the Dead Red
also by
Sara Harris
House of Madness
Katie’s Plain Regret
As it Pleases the King
Back
from the
Dead Red
Mistress of the Sea
Book 1
SARA HARRIS
Although a work of fiction, Back from the Dead Red is based on actual events. The author has endeavored to be respectful to all persons, places, and events presented in this novel, and attempted to be as accurate as possible. Still, this is a novel, and all references to persons, places and events are fictitious or used fictitiously.
Back from the Dead Red
Copyright © 2021
Sara Harris
Hardback ISBN: 978-1-952474-89-7
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-952474-90-3
Cover concept and design by Mike Parker.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations for review purposes.
Published by WordCrafts Press
Cody, Wyoming 82414
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
To those gypsy souls who always look to the past before stepping into the future—this book is for you.
You are my people.
Chapter One
1717, Swansea, Wales
Murmurs from the crowd, all gathered into the stuffy Welsh church to witness my wedding to the fat, hairy-eared copper baron Charles Hoolihan, quieted as I stepped onto the plush carpet that had been laid out especially for this day.
Nothing too good for my Drucilla. Charles’ words, trembly with age, echoed in my mind. A hint of nausea burned the back of my throat at the prospect as to what awaited me tonight. I would finally be alone with my suitor-turned-husband, who was easily twice my age. And I wasn’t exactly a young maid myself.
The blood red carpet stretched before me, down the length of the aisle, before ending abruptly beneath the pale cross that hung on the far wall. Sea-inspired tapestries, specially commissioned and hung for today, covered the church walls and gave the room a foamy blue feel. The colormen Charles had brought in from England had certainly delivered on their job.
I tugged at the waist of my simple dress, smoothing imaginary wrinkles. Charles had suggested I wear a billowy dress, in accordance with his opulent social standing here in Swansea’s society. We had even gone to the dressmaker and chosen a fluffy pattern. But in the end, I’d opted for this clamshell white frock, something like a schoolmarm might wear, that hung straight down to the floor. It accented none of my feminine features and promised the same. Charles had grinned through tight lips and patted my shoulder when I made my choice, but I still walked out with the dress I picked.
