Entry into a Hidden World

Spring is here! The air is fresh, and the world is blooming. To celebrate, Fallen Angels is free on Kindle until Sunday 12th April! What a perfect time to dive into a captivating tale. Here’s a tantalising sample for you!

A Glimpse into 'Fallen Angels – Alchemy or Artifice'

Four Pre-Raphaelite painters have taken the opportunity to draw the body of an enchanted woman after her own hair braid had accidentally hanged her from the newel post of a staircase

It was seven thirty in the evening, and the sun was sinking behind the hills. After dinner, they proudly showed him their artwork, and he had to agree it was impressive. They made her look as beautiful as she had been in life. Her large eyes were closed and her fine nose undamaged, but her mouth had been bruised and was now returning to its former size, not yet shrunk back from the teeth in death. He was particularly interested in the way they treated her hair.

Millais had drawn it in exact detail, her short hair spread on the pillow like a dark halo, the severed braid starkly separate beside her; she looked like a tragic creature who had been lovely in life. Hunt’s picture was more spiritual in conception; she seemed startled, her eyes slightly open, as was her mouth. One might expect her to take a breath, then wake in surprise to find her braid cut off.

Rossetti’s drawing was the most voluptuous; her lips were parted, full and dark, and her eyes closed as if in ecstasy. He had drawn the braid, not separate, but wound around her long neck as though by a lover, with her neck slightly arched in pleasure.

But it was Seton’s portrait that disturbed McKinley the most. Lily did not seem dead at all. Rather, she was basking in the light of their attention, smiling with her eyes and mouth. He had drawn the bruises on her skin vividly so she looked as though they'd been painted on her like stage makeup, and it reminded McKinley of the first time he had seen those flashing eyes and red mouth at the theatre in Portsmouth.

Millais said, ‘It's horrible to know that right now she's physically changing, as we sit down here contemplating these images.’

‘And it’s so awfully warm,’ said Hunt. ‘Do you think we should move her into the chapel? It’s cooler on the north side of the house. Your bedroom gets the full sun during the day, Seton.’

‘I won’t be sleeping in there tonight,’ said Seton. He was silent for a minute. ‘But yes, let’s move her to the chapel. I’ll unlock it and prepare a table for the body.’

Millais, Rossetti, and Hunt went up to the bedroom with the key, and McKinley followed Seton into the chapel. It was dark and cool, suitably quiet for a mortuary. He looked around to see if there was a slab of stone she could be laid on. They had not been there long when Millais burst through the door.

‘You – must – come,’ he gasped. ‘She’s -’ he could not find the right expression, ‘- not all there.’

McKinley had visions of dismemberment by a creature; perhaps the flying thing had returned and found its way into the bedroom and begun to devour her. They ran up the staircase and into the large room. The curtains were flung wide, and the lamps lit, so they were able to see what was on the bed. The men had begun to lift her wrapped body, but the form of the woman had collapsed as though it was an empty husk. Her head and face were still visible, exactly as they had left her.

‘Touch her face,’ said Rossetti to Seton.

He backed away. ‘No, no, I can’t. Her hair clung to that man. What if she isn’t dead?’

Rossetti made as if to poke her with one of Seton’s brushes.

'I’ll do it,’ said McKinley.

He drew the back of his hand across her cheek, and, as he expected, it collapsed, drawing her entire face with it so that she looked like a deflated balloon. There were gasps of horror and curses.

‘Unwrap the body,’ said McKinley, and they carefully unwound the sheet from the corpse, revealing the skin of a woman, but no flesh and no bones. When they were satisfied she was not going to rise up and attack them, they searched the room for the rest of her. McKinley beckoned Seton and took him to the concealed door that led to the cellar; it lay open about ten inches.

‘I don’t know how she did it, but I think she’s gone through here and down to the cellar.’

‘She? What do you mean?’ said Seton. ‘No! How could she? Somebody has been here, skinned, and taken her.’

The others heard this exchange, and Rossetti said, ‘Was it that bastard, Ede? Has the devil stolen the body, leaving only the skin? What in hell’s name is going on?’

McKinley hesitated, but he had to tell them what he was thinking, crazy as it seemed. ‘I think she’s shed her skin and slithered down to the cellar in the form of a serpent.’ There was nervous laughter and incredulity. He turned to Seton. ‘Snakes shed their skin as they grow. We saw her as Lamia, a snake-woman, and I suspect she's been transformed into that creature. Losing the use of her legs was the first change, then her voice was lost, and she interrupted the metamorphosis by hanging herself accidentally. Now it’s complete.’

The Journey Ahead

As I reflect on these moments, I find myself drawn deeper into the narrative. In 1848, the world of the occult had lightly touched these young men's lives at a time when science was replacing the old order of superstition and folklore. What follows is a quest to defeat the belief that blood sacrifice is necessary to propitiate powerful, unknowable forces.

A Call to Adventure

So, dear reader, I invite you to embark on this journey with me. Let the pages of Fallen Angels transport you to a realm where history, folklore, and science intertwine. Experience the thrill of adventure and the beauty of art as we delve into this captivating tale together.

Don't miss out on this opportunity! Grab your free copy of Fallen Angels on Kindle before it’s too late. I promise you won't regret it!

Let your imagination soar! Dive into the world of fantasy and folklore, and discover the magic that awaits you. Also available on Audible.