By John Anthony Miller
She is a great heiress; he is the wickedest man in Normandy.
Known to men far and wide as 'The Devil,' Robert de Belleme terrorises France alongside his equally fearsome mother, Mabel the Poisoner. But even a Devil needs an heir, and Mabel chooses the wealthy heiress Agnes of Ponthieu to be her son's bride. The marriage is unhappy, though the longed-for son and heir is eventually born...but when Robert is away on one of his military campaigns, Agnes flees back to her father's castle.
She is not safe; her young son William is not safe.
The Devil will seek to claim his own.
BOOK 13 IN THE MEDIEVAL BABES SERIES.
J.P. Reedman
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London, 1871: Lucie Dumas of Lyon has accepted a stipend from her former lover and his wife, on condition that she never returns to France; she will never see her young son again. As the money proves inadequate, Lucie turns to prostitution to live, joining the ranks of countless girls from continental Europe who'd come to London in the hope of work in domestic service.
Escaping a Covent Garden brothel for a Magdalen penitentiary, Lucie finds only another form of incarceration and thus descends to the streets, where she is picked up by the author Samuel Butler, who sets her up in her own establishment and visits her once a week for the next two decades. But for many years she does not even know his name.
Based on true events.
Five Minute History with Katherine Mezzacappa
I have always been fascinated by Victorian London as a city and time of contrasts. It had a veneer of respectability and moral probity, but this concealed a very dark side. Lucie Dumas, who was a real person, was a part of that. She was found by the writer Samuel Butler streetwalking in Islington. She then abandoned the street in favour of receiving gentleman callers in her lodgings and seems to have done so very discreetly. The census of 1891 records her, by her own description, of course, as a widow, living on her own means.’ The census details the other people who lived in the same building. There was a baker and his family, a journalist, a clerk – all normal people.
Butler visited her once a week on Wednesday afternoons, paying her a pound a week, including when he was away on holiday, in a relationship that lasted twenty years. Some years into this arrangement he introduced his friend and biographer, who was to call on Tuesdays; Butler would pay for him. Lucie’s response to this arrangement isn’t recorded. When Lucie became ill with tuberculosis, Butler paid her bills at the French Hospital. Most of what we know about Lucie comes from an interview the journalist Malcolm Muggeridge had with Alfred Cathie, Butler’s former manservant, years after Butler’s death. ‘The Governor’ as Alfred called him, never replaced Lucie (though his friend fairly quickly did, something Alfred clearly didn’t approve of).
Lucie left France with a small stipend provided by the father of her child and the man’s wife, but she left behind her little boy. Were she to return, she would lose that money, and she never did go back. There are great swathes of Lucie’s story that I had recreate, as we do not know what happened to her son, or exactly how she came to be streetwalking; the most likely explanation is that the stipend simply wasn’t sufficient, and so Lucie, like many women at the bottom of the economic food chain (such as seamstresses) had to turn to prostitution at least on a part-time basis, in order to make ends meet. The routes out of the profession were largely punitive; women could seek refuge in the Magdalen penitentiaries, as they were called, where they would be laundresses or embroiderers, and might be trained to go into service. The penitentiaries, run by nuns usually (both Catholic and Anglican orders) would normally only accept women and girls they thought could be reformed. These places existed all over the country. There might well be a building in your town that has since been put to some other use, but which was once one of these institutions. Needless to say, there were no penitentiaries for the men who bought these women.
Lucie appears to have escaped venereal disease, but it was a real risk for anyone working in prostitution. The first effective cure for syphilis lay in the future (Salvarsan, first used in the 1910s). Women showing signs of disease could not remain in the penitentiaries but were consigned to the Lock hospitals (there were separate Locks for men). The word lock doesn’t imply that they were locked in. It probably derives from the French word loque, describing a rag wrapped around leprosy sores.
This was too late for my purposes, but is a nugget of research too astonishing not to share. The male Lock Hospital in Covent Garden in the 1920s employed three male nurses who specialised in a urethral irrigation treatment (which sounds very painful). Their surnames were Rodwell, Catchpole and Hardstand…
The Lock Hospital at Hyde Park Corner
Thomas Shepherd, engraved by W Wallis.
Wikimedia Commons: Wellcome Collection
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
This felt like one of those books where the atmosphere does as much storytelling as the plot.
The Scald Crow isn’t loud about what it’s doing. Instead, it builds slowly — almost quietly — layering unease, emotion, and fragments of meaning until you realise you’re completely inside it. It’s less about big, dramatic reveals and more about the feeling that something is shifting, just out of view.
What stood out to me most was the way the book handles uncertainty. Calla doesn’t step into Ireland with any sense of clarity or purpose — if anything, she feels slightly untethered from the start. And rather than immediately giving her answers, the story lets her sit in that uncertainty. It allows confusion, instinct, and emotion to guide her, which made everything feel far more immersive.
There’s also a strong sense that identity in this book isn’t something fixed. It’s something that’s uncovered in layers, sometimes reluctantly. Calla’s journey isn’t about becoming someone new so much as realising that parts of herself have always been there — just hidden or misunderstood. I really liked that approach, because it gives her development a quieter, more introspective feel.
Another aspect I found really interesting was how the book treats connection. Not just romantically, but more broadly — between people, between past and present, and even between the seen and unseen parts of the world. There’s this underlying suggestion that certain bonds aren’t entirely rational or explainable, and the story leans into that rather than trying to tidy it up.
The romance fits into that idea quite well. It’s immediate, but it doesn’t feel random. Instead, it has that same sense of inevitability that runs through the rest of the book — like it’s part of something larger rather than a separate storyline.
I also really appreciated the way the modern setting and folklore coexist. The story doesn’t draw a hard line between them. Instead, it lets them overlap in a way that feels natural, as though the older world has simply been waiting in the background all along.
Definitely one I’ll be thinking about — and a series I will want to continue with.
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Hanna Park
I began my writing career in the pre-dawn of a winter morning while my husband snored like a train. We could call my husband the catalyst. If it weren’t for him, I would never have gone to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, feed the cat, and sit on the loveseat in front of the fire. It was there, in those moments of wondrous quiet, that I did something I had never thought possible. I opened my laptop, and while the coffee went cold, I wrote a story. My husband had no idea that these sojourns to the loveseat in front of the fire would become a daily occurrence, that writing would become an obsession, but the cat knew. She knows everything.
I write stories that make you laugh, make you cry, and make you love. Thank you, friends, for reading!
In the beginning, there was an empty page.
I am a writer who lives in Muskoka, Canada, with a husband who snores, a hungry cat, and an almost perfect canine––he’s an adorable little shit.
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Another Soul Saved By John Anthony Miller Publication Date: April 1, 2026 Publisher: Independent Pages: 415 Genre: Historical Fiction Vie...