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    Queen Joanna
    Queen Joanna
    Queen Joanna
    Ebook32 pages16 minutes

    Queen Joanna

    By Kate Danley

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    About this ebook

    Thrust into a loveless marriage of state, Queen Joanna discovers her new palace is home to many dark secrets. When a face in the mirror confronts her with a dire warning, she realizes her life is at risk. Has she awakened a curse—or been struck by madness?

    Queen Joanna is a short haunting twist on the ghost story legend of Bloody Mary.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKatherine Danley
    Release dateJun 10, 2014
    ISBN9781498913447
    Queen Joanna
    Author

    Kate Danley

    Kate Danley, an award-winning actress, playwright, and author, is a member of the Acme Comedy Improv and sketch troupes in Los Angeles. Her plays have been produced in New York, Los Angeles, and the Washington, DC/Baltimore area. Danley’s screenplay Fairy Blood won first place in the Breckenridge Festival of Film screenwriting competition in the action/adventure category. Her debut novel, The Woodcutter, was honored with the Garcia Award for the best fiction book of the year, was the first place fantasy book in the Reader Views Literary Awards, and the winner of the sci-fi/fantasy category of the Next Generation Indie Book Awards. Kate currently lives in Burbank, California, and works by day as office manager for education and exhibits at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles.

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      Book preview

      Queen Joanna - Kate Danley

      The thick, white damask and heavy beading of her wedding gown was no armor against their hate. She could feel their loathing burrowing into her back like a dagger. It was not just her corsetry which crushed her breath from her breast. Their silence there in the king’s chapel was more chilling than the screams of war. Still, the wedding continued. She looked up at the carved statues of strange saints over the altar, their long and sharp features judging her wrongful presence, just like every stone in the castle whispered back in her echoing footsteps that she should fly. She glanced at her bridegroom: this king, this widower, this enemy. How could she look upon this day with anything but the heaviness of duty? But she would do her duty, no matter the cost.

      But what cost! She was the daughter of a dead king, the man who killed the family and friends of these, her new subjects. Peace was her pitiful dowry, but peace bitterly bought by abdicating her rule, stolen from her by her uncle who would take over the northern throne while she ascended in the southlands as a despised queen. Here, she would be no more than a figurehead, a pretty bird in the courts with no more power than a sparrow.

      She glanced once more at this King Stephen, the man whose command was responsible for killing her father, whose armies slaughtered thousands of fathers and sons of her own people. The back of his rough, hairy hand was cold beneath her resting palm. It sought no warmth or comfort from her. In fact, it seemed to repel it. Or perhaps it was her own revulsion which thought it so. She was gladdened that he had no interest in her, that he did not even meet her carriage at the gate upon her arrival. There would be no

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