Hi, I’m Paul Alan Fahey, author of the Lovers and Liars Gay Wartime Romance series that features one gay and one straight couple. Today I’m giving away a copy of the third novella in the series, A Manx Tale, set on the magical, mystical Isle of Man during the summer of 1941. The Isle of Man is steeped in legend, myth and folklore, and I couldn’t wait to set my next novella there.

Here’s a short synopsis of the story:

This third installment in the Lovers & Liars Wartime Series finds Caroline and Cyril recently wed and honeymooning on the Isle of Man””a glorious spot in the middle of the Irish Sea marked by picturesque villages, rocky cliffs, and bracing winds. Caroline is immediately drawn to the island’s history of rampaging Vikings, tales of mermaids and legendary kings, and the friendly inhabitants with quaint superstitions and proverbs. In no time, Caroline discovers she’s fallen in love with her surroundings. But as unexplainable events unfold, she is convinced sinister forces are at work. Part by accident and part by design, Edward and Leslie join the couple, and together they must work quickly to identify a turned British agent, retrieve a top secret document, and learn the true meaning of the phrase: It all comes back to the camps. Will logic and reason prevail or will a bit of magic and island whimsy save the day?

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Chapter 2: What We Know About People

Cyril took Caroline’s hand as they ran across the green,
mainly to avoid the harsh winds blowing in from the sea. Tummies full from a
dinner of kippers””a local specialty at The Black Dog Inn””the pair decided on a
leisurely walk before bedtime. Caroline had never had kippers for dinner, only
breakfast””being the well brought up English lady she was””but nothing could match
the Manx kippers served fresh from the sea and smothered in butter. In a very
short time, she’d grown to crave them.
The couple had gone some distance
when they came upon a large neighborhood square consisting of several blocks of
houses surrounded by barbed wire and patrolled by sentries. This was Hutchinson
Internment Camp, one of the many such places scattered about the isle. Since the
beginning of the war with Germany, the camps were deemed necessary “in defense
of the realm and in order to detain anyone suspected of being a danger to the
public safety.”
“Listen,” Caroline said, grabbing Cyril by the arm and
stopping him from moving on. “Is that Bach?”
“Sounds like it. A violin for
sure.”
“And notes from a piano,” she said. “It’s coming from one of the open
windows. “Wish we could get closer, take a look inside. If only”””
“Uh””huh.
That’s the reason for the barbed wire, love. It’s to keep them from
getting out. Not us from getting in.”
“I know,” she said. Caroline brushed
his cheek with one of her long, lacquered nails. She loved the lean look of his
face, the longish dark hair touching his coat collar, even his beaked nose lent
him character and made him quite sexy. Even if it does remind me of that chap
who plays Sherlock Holmes in the cinema. “Have I told you today how much I
love you?”
“About every hour on the hour.”
She nudged him in the ribs.
“Don’t press your luck, fella,” and then she pulled his face to hers and kissed
him.
“Maybe we should cut this walk short,” he said. “I think I’m working up
an appetite.”
“We’ve already eaten, silly.”
“I wasn’t thinking about
food,” he said.
She jabbed him a bit harder in the ribs. “In time. In time.
Just a few more minutes.” She craned her neck and looked upward to the second
floor. “Someone has etched a bird in that blackened window. Such beautiful
detail. Edward would appreciate the art here. And the music. I read in the local
news that Hutchinson is known for its exhibits, concerts, and even theatrical
productions. You’d never know it, would you?”
Cyril shifted his weight from
one foot to the other, seemingly anxious to start home. “Well, they have to do
something to occupy their time.”
“And that’s the point, isn’t it? Just
marking time.” Caroline grew misty eyed and turned away looking out toward the
green. “This is the view they see day after day. The wire fence, the street with
people walking by free to do whatever they please, and then beyond the road the
blasted sea. I’d go crazy.”
“Most probably, love, but you aren’t an enemy
alien. Come on, let’s turn back.”
Caroline couldn’t let his remark go. Hadn’t
she always spoken her mind? “I think it’s wrong, this whole internment program.
It’s demeaning.”
“What would you do then, love?” he said. “Take a chance on
letting people with connections to enemy countries roam our streets and plot
against us?”
“No, of course not, but many of the detainees are Jewish and
confirmed anti-Nazis. What harm can they do? They’ve left their countries for
sanctuary and not to conspire against us. Many are even naturalized British
citizens.”
“You’re only repeating propaganda, what oppressed people always
say. Besides, it’s not what we know about people, but what we don’t know
that would terrify us if we did.”
“Sounds like a quote from a boring
philosophy professor past his prime, or maybe something you’d read in a fortune
cookie.”
“In our business, we know people aren’t always what they seem,” he
said.
“Yes. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. Sometimes I hate what we
do in name of King and Country. All the lying and subterfuge. But I still think
the practice of locking people away without any rights based on where they were
born or”””’
He shook his head. “I should know better than to argue with you.
Besides, there are reasons those individuals are locked away, as you say.
Someone thought they were a threat to our government. Besides, they do have it
quite nice. They all have their roles inside. Some are house leaders, cooks, and
even orderlies who make their lives run smoothly. They have jobs in the camps
based on life skills.”
“Right,” she said, “and they offer art classes,
lectures, watch movies, and live the high life. It’s all one big game of happy
families. Yes, husband mine, I’ve heard that government propaganda as
well. They might as well be chained to the wall behind prison walls for all we
care.”
“Thank you, Alexander Dumas.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Listen,
dear heart, little by little and once they’ve been vetted, we’ve started letting
them out, sending them back to””” He fell quiet a moment. Then, “Are we arguing?”
he asked. “Is this our first marital quarrel?”
“Could be.” She turned away
from him and leaned back against the fence. “This just feels wrong.
Someday”””
“Someday these policies will make sense, and we’ll be glad then we
had them in place,” Cyril said. He pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms
around her. “We need to go back. It’s getting cold.” The night had turned damp.
A misty fog hovered above the sea and was moving in to shore.
“Cold, yes,”
she said absentmindedly, wondering about one of the houses near the end of the
block. “At least the others have some light peeping though. What do you make of
that one completely in the dark?
“Probably unoccupied,” Cyril said. “Come on.
Let’s get hopping.”
“Yes, you must be right. It just looks so”¦I don’t know.
Forlorn,” she said, and shivered. “There’s a local myth about the fog. Want to
hear it?”
“You can tell me about it later. Much later,” he said practically
dragging her along.
“And you know something else?” she asked.
“No.
What?”
“In my head I know you’re right. With so much hate and misery around
us, we can’t afford to take risks. It’s just some of the internees don’t belong
in there.”
“I know,” he said.
“You do?”
“Yes, but I still believe quite
a few of them do…belong in there. For now.”
“Then why let me go on as I
did,” she said, “especially knowing I would agree with you in the end?”
“It’s
more fun when you get your dander up.”
“You, too,” she said. “Do you think it
will lift its lovely head again any time soon””your dander, I mean?”
“I
wouldn’t be in the least surprised.”
“I’m thinking a good old fashioned
spanking is just what I need,” Caroline said, “in the privacy of our room, of
course.”
“You know,” he said, “I was thinking the exact same
thing.”