Havok Publishing

Tag - historical fiction

Between Heaven and Earth

6th June, 1944
Twelve miles from shore, we climb into the landing craft.
“Remember,” the coxswain warns, looking at each of us as we set out. “Save no one. We need manpower on the beach.”
No one responds. What could we say? None of us wanted to face the possibility of leaving our friends behind.

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Say Goodbye for Me

Wails.
They pierce through the walls of our cabin. Echo in the hall outside. Like the ship is haunted and full of ghosts. I shiver, bury myself in the blankets. My body slides against the wall of my berth. I scoot back to my warm spot. Slide down again.
Pounding and banging. Slams and thuds.

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Tombstone Terror

“Don’t be a fool, son.” The saloon’s bartender nodded toward the revolver holstered on my belt. “This town got a history. On the full moon—”
“I ain’t scared of no Wyatt Earp. No killer, frontier, quick-shooting lawmen are going to get me, no sir.” I downed my drink. “Pretty sure Johnny Ringo and his outlaws are six feet below, too.

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Twenty Minutes till Midnight

North Atlantic Ocean, April 14th, 1912, 10:00 PM
“Oi!” Jewell says as he drops onto the deck. “Keep a sharp look-out for ice, particularly growlers.”
“Sea’s calm tonight.” Symons lands beside him and rubs his hands together. “It’ll make it rougher. Keep your eyes peeled, Fleet.”
“Thanks,” I respond tightly. I always dreamed of being on lookout.

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X Must Die

“Our band of brothers must be the right age,” I told the three men gathered around me in the quiet darkness of my house—dark save for the single candle. We dared not light the lamp on the table between us, nor any lamp at all. “But then, you already know the truth of this.”

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Mutoscope Murder

Inspector Gustav Ackerson removed his bowler hat and knelt next to the corpse. A boy of fourteen years stared at the nickelodeon’s plaster ceiling with glazed eyes. According to the night guardsman, the poor lad had snuck into the theater after hours and had been discovered lying on the floor next to a mutoscope.

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Fire from Heaven

I sit up gasping, drenched in sweat. For the third time this week, I’ve awoken from nightmares of our city on fire. People screaming, houses exploding.
Each nightmare ends the same way–with blackened bodies staring at me from their smoldering graves.
I leave our bed to stare out the window with my oil lamp…

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The Bronze Serpent

Dr. Byron Stoneburner inserted the bronze snake into a satchel as German bullets whizzed overhead. He secured the latch on the bag and mumbled a prayer.
Courage. Or Jack’s dead.
A disheveled officer nudged his arm. “You’re serious?”
Byron tightened his helmet chinstrap and placed a muddy boot on the trench ladder.

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Lady Hood

Ever since a wolf devoured Marian’s grandmother, the Sheriff of Nottingham had set a permanent watch on his daughter, which made it rather difficult to sneak into the forest, but not impossible.
Marian huffed and pulled her red riding cloak tighter to ward off the morning chill. Her father hadn’t been particularly fond

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The Sea’s Mercy

Are you the Beowulf who took on Breca in a swimming match on the open sea?”
The festive hall quieted. Unferth, that envious rat, who had remained silent throughout the hero’s introduction, now sought to sow discord. Beowulf’s boasts had convinced King Hrothgar, and everyone else in the mead hall, that he’d be

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The Runaway

“So why Tarshish?”
The man’s shoulders tensed, but he continued counting out the coins for my fare. Finally, he shrugged. “I hear it’s nice this time of year.”
“Right.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Tarshish, nice? Either the man was greatly misinformed—no one went to Tarshish on holiday—or…

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Bunyan Batters Up

On his way into town one hot, sticky Saturday, Paul Bunyan stopped short at a river. Well, not short—Bunyan was a giant who towered over the forest’s biggest trees. He didn’t do anything short. He did stop, however, and point to a logjam in the river, made of oaks and pines

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