Getting there…

My New Blog 

As you can see this new blog is improving little by little. I forgot how much time it takes.

I decided that 2011 was the year I was going to publish, come Hell or high water. I am impatient. Too impatient to submit longer work over and over, too impatient to submit my novels, wait for replies and, if accepted, wait another 18 months for it to be in print. If I was 25 it might be different, but I’m not.

Time is not of the essence, it is the essence.

Over the summer of 2011, I sent out lots of short stories. All of them found homes. This was very exciting! It gave me ,not only confidence in my work, but a sense of having created a body of work. I do love the tradition of becoming know for short stories and then the novels come out to a hopefully warmed-up public. I have joined the tradition and that feels great!

My novellas on the other hand had difficulties. Novellas are notoriously hard to sell because they too long or too short. SO, I was inspired by this to publish them on Kindle.

My Amazon Page

You can visit my Amazon page here: Alyne de Winter’s Page.

The first one up is one that lots of people have liked at open mics, but it is an odd length. So up Roses, Briars and Blood: A Gothic Re-Telling of Grimms’ Briar Rose went on the Kindle where it takes on the size of short novel!

Then great Aubrey Beardsley helped out with the cover art. He is an old inspiration of mine.


This is the opening of Roses, Briars and Blood. As you can see, I’ve made it very atmospheric.

Roses, Briars and Blood


Alyne de Winter

Chapter One

The Queen longed for a child. Though she conceived, she could not carry. They simply slipped out of her womb in a torrent of blood. Her tears did not matter; she could not command them to stay the course. Frightened of the mocking laughter and sly whispers of the Courtiers, the Queen dressed in widow’s white and retreated into the dim lit Halls of Melancholy where the echoes of disembodied voices, the tap, tap, tapping of distant footsteps, and the soft pattering of snow falling upon snow were the only sounds she heard.

The King looked askance at the frail Queen, and complained. She was ever so pale, like that luminous, crown-petaled flower that glows along the dim paths and the banks of the streams that lead into the deeper shadows of the Otherworld. The fine, flax colored hair, and the small, perfect features that had drawn him with their poignant delicacy, were now an arrangement of signs and portents that hinted of thin, fragile bones, and a slipshod womb.

So, the King’s disappointed sighs filled the halls of the castle, followed, as the time wore on, by great majestic groans. The Queen grew anxious. Would the King seek to put her away and find another who could give him the heir he craved?


I have more stories at Amazon kindle if you care to take a look.

Also, check out my other blogs: Gothic Faery


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