Stacy Kalk

“New York. Anton Meyer’s wife had just gone to New Jersey to stay with her sister for a couple of days. For the first time in a while, his day hadn’t ended in an argument and he’d been able to enjoy a good night’s sleep. It was 10 in the morning and Meyer had already dealt efficiently with most of the files on his desk. He had taken a moment to congratulate himself on this when Maurice Kramer appeared at his door. “Daydreaming again, Meyer?” Kramer’s beady eyes glared meanly at him.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“… One thing was clear – the trek would be a terrible test of endurance before it was over. There was always another thought too – the Japs. Were they giving chase? Nobody knew and few now cared … Captain Gribble”
― Elizabeth Tebby Germaine, EXTRAORDINARY TRUE STORIES OF SURVIVAL IN BURMA WW2: tens of thousands fled to India from the Japanese Invasion in 1942

“Among them was one to whom I owe an immeasurable debt of gratitude. Only for him, in all probability, I should have ended my days in slavery. He was my deliverer—a man whose true heart overflowed with noble and generous emotions. To the last moment of my existence I shall remember him with feelings of thankfulness. His name was Bass, and at that time he resided in Marksville. It will be difficult to convey a correct impression of his appearance or character. He was a large man, between forty and fifty years old, of light complexion and light hair. He was very cool and self-possessed, fond of argument, but always speaking with extreme deliberation. He was that kind of person whose peculiarity of manner was such that nothing he uttered ever gave offence.”
― Solomon Northup, Twelve Years A Slave

“You can’t set fires, Anna. Never again. Promise.”
[Anna] aimed her defiance at Mary.
“And you? What’s your reason to hate me?”
Caroline spoke quietly. “We nearly died — in the fire in those mountains and at the house when Ravi had a gun pointed at us.” Her eyes were full of tears. “The fire you set at The Old Hospital could have killed me as well as Janet and Agnes.”
Anna muttered into the syrupy dregs of her tea. “Fire, you’re firing me?”
Mary grimaced. There had been too much fire.”
― Susan Rowland, The Alchemy Fire Murder