For police investigator Aristide Ravel, the teeming streets of dissolute postrevolutionary Paris are a constant source of activity. And in the unruly climate of 1797, when gold and food are scarce, citizens will stop at little to get what they need.
When illiterate servant Jeannette Moineau is accused of poisoning her master, Ravel cannot believe she is guilty. With stubborn witnesses, a mysterious white powder, and stolen goods all stacked against her, however, he knows it will not be easy to clear her of the charges. But he finds an unexpected ally in Laurence, a young widow of the...
For police investigator Aristide Ravel, the teeming streets of dissolute postrevolutionary Paris are a constant source of activity. And in the unruly ...
This is not a book on how to write historical fiction. It is a book on how not to write historical fiction.
If you love history and you're hard at work writing your first historical novel, but you're wondering if your medieval Irishmen would live on potatoes, if your 17th-century pirate would use a revolver, or if your hero would be able to offer Marie-Antoinette a box of chocolate bonbons . . . (The answer to all these is "Absolutely not ") . . . then Medieval Underpants and Other Blunders is the book for you.
Medieval Underpants will guide you...
This is not a book on how to write historical fiction. It is a book on how not to write historical fiction.
In "Bygone London Life," antiquary and social historian G.L. Apperson gives us glimpses of a day-to-day London that was already long gone when his book was first published in 1903-the raucous, vibrant city of Elizabethan eating-houses, literary taverns, private museums, mincing Restoration fops, and rowdy Georgian rakes. Here are types and institutions from the late sixteenth to the early nineteenth centuries: poets and sedan-chair operators; coffee-house wits and night watchmen; "pretty fellows" and shoeblacks; kickshaws, macaronies, ordinaries, bucks and bloods, and cabinets of...
In "Bygone London Life," antiquary and social historian G.L. Apperson gives us glimpses of a day-to-day London that was already long gone when his boo...
In April, 1793, the Revolutionary Tribunal of Paris condemned a handful of prisoners to death for crimes against the French Republic-and judges, jury, and spectators wept as sentence was passed.
In July, 1794, the Tribunal sent thirty to fifty people a day to the guillotine.
What, in fifteen months, turned the Tribunal into an instrument of mass murder? What collective madness or terror seized its personnel, some of them callous psychopaths, others decent men trapped in nightmarish circumstances? How could they casually condemn hundreds to death, from peasants to duchesses, from...
In April, 1793, the Revolutionary Tribunal of Paris condemned a handful of prisoners to death for crimes against the French Republic-and judges, jury,...
