Ancient Worlds Collide... #HistoricalFiction

Calling Crow (Book One of the Southeast Series

by Paul Clayton

Runs Like Deer extended his lance into the water to prod the thing. The surge picked up, moving it forward, turning the large head as if it were trying to look up at its tormentors.

“Aieyee!” said Runs Like Deer, drawing back to hide in the dugout. “It moves!” They watched in awe as the thing slid over the small rocks and continued its snail’s pace toward the beach.

Calling Crow turned to Big Nose, who continued to maneuver the dugout. “Go to the shore. We will wait for it there.”


The form broke the surface of the water and did not move. Calling Crow and the others waded into the sea. Calling Crow held his knife outstretched. Big Nose put an arrow to his bow and Runs Like Deer raised his lance and prodded the manlike thing. Nothing happened.

“Pull it out of the water,” said Calling Crow.

The others grabbed the thing by its legs and dragged it up onto the sand. It was big. Big Nose jabbed at the gleaming shell-like skin, his lance glancing off with a loud clatter none of them had ever heard before.

“It has magic skin,” said Big Nose.

“Aieyee,” said Runs Like Deer.


“With his first novel, Paul Clayton has taken me out of today, even out of the world I know best-- the frontier of the early far west-- and plunged me back to an ancient America that resounds with the ring of truth to my very marrow. Make no mistake about it: This is frontier fiction at its finest and most compelling-- characters that yank you into their lives at this most crucial time in the history not only of this hemisphere, but in the making of the New World. -- Terry C. Johnston, author of Wind Walker

From "Titanic 2012: Curse of RMS Titanic" by Robert W. Walker

Belfast, Northern Ireland, April 3, 1912

Slippage dust choked them. A fine shower of it fluttered about the men like a million black fairies that insisted on entering them. The dark dust created of itself a ghostly, unruly fog. Yet it was so fine, the two wouldn’t have known it was here had not their helmet lights reflected it. The earth around them groaned and stretched as if disturbed from slumber, just awakening. Tim McAffey, one of the two who’d dared enter to inspect the damage wondered why he’d ever become a miner. Then the floating grave ahead of them settled, and he thought of the bonus promised if he did his job. He thought of home and family and food on the table.

“The day ends with little to show,” said mine superintendent McAffey, frustrated and upset. He knew from experience it’d take days if not a week to get the men comfortable enough about this section of the mine to even begin to clean up the mess where some timbers had given way. “Hell, amounts to a sneeze,” he said to the man beside him.

“Minor inconvenience at best,” agreed O’Toole.

From "Lila's Dance" by Jill Metcalf

Daniel and Lila had been subjected to abuse from the bitter tongues of Town gossips. The night they were wed…

     The animals were no more than bedded down for the night before Daniel heard the tapping of the hammer. He followed the sound around to the front of the house and stopped in surprise. Lila was nailing the unfolded paper to the front door.

     Their marriage document was about to be left to flutter in the midnight breezes.

     When she had finished the chore, Lila stood back, giving a satisfied nod. "There! That should do it." 
   
     He stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Do what?"

     Lila continued to admire the piece of paper. "I can just hear Mae Belle Willoughby now," she said and began imitating the older woman's scratchy voice. 'We don't know they're married for sure,' she'll say. 'None of us was invited to the wedding, were we? We haven't seen a marriage paper, have we?' Now they will all see it," Lila added happily.