Subgenre: Lesbian historical fantasy
About Floodtide:
The streets are a perilous place for a young laundry maid dismissed
without a character for indecent acts. Roz knew the end of the path for a
country girl alone in the city of Rotenek. A desperate escape in the
night brings her to the doorstep of Dominique the dressmaker and the
hope of a second chance beyond what she could have imagined. Roz’s
apprenticeship with the needle, under the patronage of the royal
thaumaturgist, wasn’t supposed to include learning magic, but Celeste,
the dressmaker’s daughter, draws Roz into the mysterious world of the
charm-wives. When floodwaters and fever sweep through the lower city,
Celeste’s magical charms could bring hope and healing to the forgotten
poor of Rotenek, but only if Roz can claim the help of some unlikely
allies.
Set in the magical early 19th century world of Alpennia, Floodtide tells an independent tale that interweaves with the adventures.
Set in the magical early 19th century world of Alpennia, Floodtide tells an independent tale that interweaves with the adventures.
Excerpt:
You know the scent of lavender on the fresh
sheets? When you take them from the linen press, you breathe it in, remembering
the long rows of purple flowers in the summer sun. You think of the smile on
the maisetra’s face when she settles in for the night with that scent still
lingering. That’s what I always imagined love would be like.
But loving Nan was like stripping the lavender
spikes in Aunt Gaita’s stillroom back in Sain-Pol. The sharp resin filled my
head and the memory of it clung to my hands and my clothes. I’d say the prayers
to Saint Cheler with my aunt as we distilled lavender water and mixed herbs to
add to the soap. Sometimes I’d get a warm, stretchy feeling at the base of my
belly, like the one I got during the mysteries at church.
When I was in the middle of the lavender
harvest, I’d forget about everything else. I wouldn’t think about how lucky I
was that Aunt Gaita picked me out from my brothers and sisters to learn a trade
and teach me how to behave proper in service. I’d forget about tending the
boiler where the linens were soaking. My mind would wander off and she’d box my
ears and threaten to send me back home to mind the babies. I knew she didn’t
mean it, but the scent was that strong it could drive everything else out of my
head.
Loving Nan was like that. I was never free of
thinking of her. I’d watch her from the laundry room door as she went up and
down the stairs to the family rooms and find excuses to call her over to ask
about some mending she’d brought down. I’d lean close and breathe in how lovely
she smelled. Then at night, even when we were so tired we could barely talk,
we’d kiss and cuddle in the narrow bed we shared.
Nan was the one who taught me what to do with
that feeling in my belly. We’d never meant it to go further than the ordinary
sort of keeping company. Most girls in service have a special friend. You get
lonely away in the city with no family about. But it did go further. I was so
hungry for Nan we’d be up late into the night, trying not to make noise and
wake Mari in the next bed and then stumbling bleary-eyed through the morning
chores.
Amazon | Bella Books
About Heather Rose Jones
Heather
Rose Jones is the author of the Alpennia historic fantasy series: an
alternate-Regency-era Ruritanian adventure revolving around women’s
lives woven through with magic, alchemy, and intrigue. Her short fiction
has appeared in The Chronicles of the Holy Grail, Sword and Sorceress, Lace and Blade,
and at Podcastle.org. Heather blogs about research into
lesbian-relevant motifs in history and literature at the Lesbian
Historic Motif Project and has a podcast covering the field of lesbian
historical fiction which has recently expanded into publishing audio
fiction. She reviews books at The Lesbian Review as well as on her blog. She works as an industrial failure investigator in biotech pharmaceuticals.
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