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House on Latimer Square
House on Latimer Square is a pre-World War II historical novel with a supernatural twist.
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The year is 1937. While the world races toward the abyss of war, the lives of three strangers entwine in a desperate struggle to save two Jewish children. Laurie, a young Scottish engineer thinks he’s got it made with a beautiful fiancé and a prestigious job waiting at a German shipbuilder. While Fiona inherits a large old house in Edinburgh from a mysterious uncle, only to find that she shares her house with the ghost of an 18th-century smuggler, the Black Captain. And a young Bavarian nun, Ana is drawn into a perilous game of cat and mouse, trying to hide Jewish children from a disturbed SS-officer. It’s her mission to get them to safety. She can see who this young man might have been before he was brainwashed by Nazi propaganda. She wishes there was a way to reach him, but she can’t risk the lives of the children in her care. It’s her mission to get them to safety.
This is a story of courage, love, trust and the willingness to do whatever you can to save the lives of others, even at the risk of your own life.
Finished manuscript, waiting on representation to publish.
Under Construction
Wolf's Cub
The Compass Rose Journey Continues
with Eric’s Story
Wolf’s Cub
Footsteps in the Dark
Edinburgh, Scotland
Dec. 19, 1937
Only half-past six and the streets of Edinburgh were empty. Laurie drew in a frosty breath and exhaled a foggy cloud. He flipped the collar of his overcoat up and pulled his fedora down over his forehead. Every surface reflected the sparkle of newly formed frost. An inviting glow coming from the Tolbooth Tavern tempted him to go back inside.
A year ago, he might have done just that, but life had changed him. He was eager to get home to the warmth of his new wife. He couldn’t believe how much he loved her, and his heart still raced when she looked at him with such love in her eyes. His footsteps echoed off the old cobblestones. He set a steady pace up the Royal Mile toward Old Town. The buildings lining the street hadn’t changed in hundreds of years. They leaned over the walkway watching him pass. He could stroll these streets with his eyes closed. Edinburgh was his home. Gratitude filled his heart that he’d escaped from Germany with the children in his care. He’d rescued them from the Nazis’ new world order and their oppression of all non-Aryans.
At the corner of High Street and Cockburn, he stopped for a moment. The unmistakable tapping of footsteps came from behind him. He shrugged off the sound. Only the memory of all that German subterfuge could make him imagine something sinister in another man on his way home.
He turned right down Cockburn toward New Town, listening for those other steps, but hearing only the echo of his own. At Princes Street, a few autos passed him leaving tracks in the frosty street. The snow dulled the glow of the lampposts, but the lights from neon business signs illuminated his way. He stopped again, pretending to be interested in the display of menswear in the Marks & Spencer’s window. There it was again. Two steps, then a halt.
The last time someone followed him, it was by order of an SS officer by the name of Eric Braun. The personification of the perfect Aryan male. Braun was a man without a moral conscience. Evil.
He glanced around, trying not to be obvious. Another man stood in the shadows a hundred feet down the road. Laurie shook his head. This was ridiculous. He waited to see if the man would move closer. After a while, the figure started walking his way. The dark shadow now looked harmless. Not sinister or threatening. Laurie smiled as the man walked with his hands in his coat pockets. More of a stroll than aimed at a destination.
Laurie’s greeting was friendly. “Out for a walk on the town?”
The man stepped into the light spilling from the display windows. He was indeed very like Eric Braun. Blond hair in stark contrast to a black overcoat. Another cookie-cutter Aryan. Or maybe it was still his imagination.
“Herr MacKenzie. Back in your homeland, all safe and sound, ja?” The German accent was unmistakable.
Lauri’s breath caught. Anger coursed through him. They dared to follow him even here in Scotland? He snapped. “And who wants to know?” His hands were already clenched, his muscles tight, ready for a fight, but he held his ground and his temper. “Who’s asking?”
“My name’s not important. I’m only the messenger.” The man’s mouth turned down in disdain. “Vass trusted you with some very secret information.”
“What, you mean those fly bombs?” Laurie tried to hide his thoughts, remembering how he and his co-worker Terri Mulligan had sabotaged the project. “Fantasy, never work.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, Herr MacKenzie. I’m here to watch you. Remember, you signed an agreement not to talk about your work at Vass.”
“Who would I tell? They’re junk, I tell you, not worth the breath to talk about.”
The man edged closer to him. Laurie saw the gleam in his eyes. The same expression he’d seen on that Eric Braun character. A wolf on the hunt. “If you say a word, you’ll lose that pretty wife of yours.”
“Touch my wife and you’ll lose your life.” He added with menace. “Scots don’t make idol threats or make war on women and children. We aren’t part of your master race. We don’t mind being savages when it comes to protecting our own.”
The German took a step back and turned on his heel. A black car moved out of the shadows at the curb. Before getting in the bloke swung around, saying with a casual air. “Oh, and tell your friend Herr Mulligan. One word from us and things will go badly for his family. Aren’t his wife and children German? A simple matter to deport them back home. Back to Germany, back to us.”
Laurie stood alone on the empty street as the car rolled past him. A bone-chilling fear for the ones he loved settled over him.
A bit about me.....
“What’s it like growing up with a mother who has second sight?” you ask.
My mum had a wealth of stories, not all of them with the paranormal twist, but all her stories
were fascinating. They taught me a lot. I think we learn best through the stories of others. We see
ourselves in their lives, imagining how we’d react. And the Sight was often part of her history.
It’s not just the glimpse of the future or a warning of danger that makes you listen closely. I think
it’s a real sense that life is so much more than we see with our natural eyes. She taught me to
listen to the whisper of the God she loved and depended on.
I don’t get hung up on ghosts. You can’t live in an ancient land like Scotland without
encountering unexplained spirits. She never asked who they were or why they walked. She
trusted that if God wanted her to know, He would tell her.
Her faith fueled my own. Looking back, I never felt alone. I always carried that expectation that
something amazing was just around the corner. “Watch for it, Wendy. You don’t want to miss
what God has for you next.”
I grew up in Seattle, met my future husband in our senior year of high school, later married and
had children. My husband indulged my love of animals with cats, dogs, and horses over the
years. I was a Highland dancer, a painter, and a writer. As a volunteer, I’ve met lots of wonderful
people and been grateful for every moment I shared with my husband and family. Yes, an
ordinary life, but rich, rewarding, and full of twists and turns I never expected.
What am I doing now? Watching for what God has next for me
It's all about you!
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