Now available!
For kindle, kindle unlimited, and in paperback.
Click “shop” to pick out your copy.
NOTE: At this moment, you will be directed to the Canadian amazon page. If you are not Canadian, don’t fear: you will just have to switch to your respective region!
EXCERPT BELOW:
CHAPTER ONE
Monday, September 5th, 1870
Oliver Winslow turned the chess piece over in his hand. It appeared to be porcelain, and it shone in the late afternoon light. He tapped his nail against it, which produced a gentle thud. There were little flecks of teal at the bottom which, too, glittered in the light, and he wondered what they were. Lapis? He thought. No, not blue enough.
“Anything I can help you with, Mister?” The shop clerk asked, jerking Oliver from his haze as he turned on his heel—just after he had slipped the pawn up his sleeve. There was a little rip in the lining of his coat, perfect for a small possession to hide in.
Oliver’s heart fluttered, and he shook his head.
“No, no, but thank you for asking. Just having a glance, is all.”
The clerk nodded and, appearing none the wiser, returned to polishing the candlesticks that lined the rows upon rows of crowded shelves. Oliver took a slow breath.
He pretended to browse for a few moments longer, scouring over the assortment of houseware items and knick-knacks that were scattered around the shop. There was no organization to it, no real thought put into the arrangement. Shops like that made him feel safer. It was harder to notice an item was missing if it was long forgotten among a cluttered collection.
Nothing else caught his eye. He hadn’t even entered the shop to buy anything, but running out immediately after he had been asked a question would be horrendously suspect. The clerk would know.
To explain his departure, he pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time, making sure to stand directly within the clerk’s line of view. Then he raised his eyebrows sheepishly and quickly shoved it back into his pocket with a sigh before directing his voice to the clerk.
“Ah. Feels as if there’s no time left in the days anymore, don’t it?” He jested as he strode out, tipping his hat. Palpable relief rushed throughout his body once his shoes struck the cobblestone outside.
The little pawn rubbed against his arm as he walked. He had no need for it, and he knew that the clerk would find himself unable to sell an incomplete chess set for any reasonable price if and when the pawn’s absence was discovered. But then again, he probably wouldn’t have been able to sell it anyway—chips had been taken out of the board, and a bishop was already missing. So, it’s not anything to fuss over, Oliver tried to reassure himself.
But the thought, unlike the pawn, was hollow.