Greetings, all! It’s Saturday and time for some Seductive Studs!
Today, I’m stepping away from Summer of History for a moment to share a clip from a short work in progress, titled The Greek Room. This is its opening:
Dunbarton Hall stood like a stone nipple atop the breast of Northumberland.
The grey pile was a dog’s breakfast of architectural styles, which did nothing to make it less intimidating as Christos trudged up the long, dusty roadway. He’d walked from the train stop—the small shack along the North Eastern Railway line hardly qualified as a station, unlike the grandly vaulted building he’d left behind in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. After disembarking from the Son of Macedonia, he’d possessed just enough money for a one-way fare to Dunbarton.
The dusty road transitioned to a white, pea gravel circular yard the nearer Christos came to the hall. Terraces of grass and flowers interspersed with finely manicured bushes drew the eye toward the large, pale ochre front door. Christos brushed at the dust on his trousers and boots. It wouldn’t do to look too rough shod.
He’d stopped behind a hedge and changed to his better shirt before approaching the great house. He could only hope that no one looked too closely at his jacket and trousers—the mending was all that seemed to hold them together. He took a deep breath. Months of travel from Greece—made more difficult by the war with the Ottomans—were ending here on this porch. He had no more money. With a quick prayer he lifted the lion-headed knocker and let it fall.
Thanks for reading!
Be sure to check out more Studs here.
‘Til next time!