All of the people and names included are also fictitious. None of these people existed either now or in 1863. ***** At an estate sale in 2012 I purchased a writing desk that I planned to restore. Locked in one of the drawers I found these personal letters. With some research I was able to identify some corroborating documents in the National Archives whic...
Once again I want to thank my editor "Wires" for his assistance with this story. His advice has improved this chapter drastically. I have made a few changes since his last review and want to emphasize any errors are definitely mine. Over the course of the next nine years Roger's country continued to grow. He stopped building new naval ships when he had s...
It was late, past midnight when I awoke. I was alone in the great bed, and silver moonlight flooded in through the bedroom windows. I shook my head to clear it, and wondered where the girls were. I got out of bed and wandered through the silent house. As I approached the great room I could begin to hear their voices. At last I could see them together in the...
Prologue: In all the long history of life there has been struggle, always fighting for energy and resources against the entropic nature of the universe. The very first lifeforms on the planet Earth had to contend with a very young, very hot planet that cared nothing for their survival. For every cell death was inevitable, save the ability of these cells to r...
The stories you are about to read take place in a world very much like our own. However, there are a few major differences. Every woman in the world has at least one fetish or sexual behavior that they are compelled to indulge in whenever given the opportunity. This urge manifests itself once a woman reaches sexual maturity around their 18th birthday, and p...
The infamous Oriental Rug of Al-Kroli was the final ill-fated creation of the hoary, hydrophobic Arab, Al-Kroli of Bhala-Kalava, whose madness had been caused by a miniscule injection of the rabies virus by an unlikely and unfortunate encounter with an infected camel. The torpidity and flatulence which increasingly drove both his consanguinous allies and his...
The name is Stephen Voltaire. I'm a big and tall young Black man who's recently moved from the American city of Brockton, Massachusetts, to the unknown urban wilderness of Ottawa, Canada. So far, I don't much care for the Republic of Canada. Too many white people, for one thing. However, the city of Ottawa itself was fairly diverse. There are lots of Asians,...
My name is Sabrina Steelman. I'm a tall young Black woman living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. And I am deeply saddened by the state of the affairs between men and women in the Black Community. The year is 2009. A Black man is President of the United States of America. A Black man is Governor of New York. A Black man is Governor of Massachusetts. T...
Author's Note: This is not a complete story and is intended as a prelude or supplement for stories that are part of the Brownwood Collection. Hopefully it will give readers a more detailed description of the Brownwood setting. Since this isn't an actual story, comments and scoring have been turned off. And 'yes' it's dry, needs an editor and reads like a r...
Here I have combined three documents of related material between Constance and her husband Thomas. Less explicit than most, they clearly reveal the intimacy shared between the principals as well as salient points that will be revealed later. The Editor ***** The names and addresses have been changed to protect reputations of the descendants. ***** June...