Books and writing have always been an enormous part of Anita's life. She survived school by hiding out in the library, with several thousand fictional characters for company. At university, she overcame the boredom of studying accountancy by squeezing in Egyptology papers and learning to read hieroglyphics.

Today, Anita writes historical fantasy novels from her home in rural New Zealand.

You can find her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AWExley

Be the first to hear about new releases, specials, and giveaways. Sign up at: 
https://awexley.com/newsletter/

In 1918 England, join an Edwardian Cinderella on her journey to defeat the undead and find her happily ever after

Part 1: Ella,The Slayer
Seventeen-year-old Ella copes the best she can scrubbing the floors, and slaying the undead. Then the new Duke of Leithfield arrives in the village and working alongside Seth, Ella glimpses a future she never dreamed was possible. But in overstepping society's boundaries, she could lose everything - home, head and her heart...

Part 2: Alice, The Player
Ella must venture down a rabbit hole, but this is no wonderland...
When Alice goes missing without a trace, the new vermin queen sends an invitation--Ella is welcome to try and rescue her friend, before Elizabeth lets her subjects tear the housemaid apart.

Part 3: Rory, The Sleeper
Could the long dead duchess, Millicent deMage, be the key to understanding the pandemic of vermin? The final battle is looming, but this might be one fight Ella can't win, and she will be the one put to sleep forever...

Part 4 Bonus: Henry, the Gaoler
On the frontlines of the Great War, Henry kept a token of happier times - a worn photograph of a young girl with long blonde plaits. He returns from war damaged and vowing to do one brave thing to make up for his cowardice - release Hazel from her prison. But is it safe with the pandemic and its horrific aftermath?



Serenity House

October ran out of days and became November. Ella and I still worked all the hours we could, dividing out time between the farm and Serenity House. One day, as I walked across the ballroom floor, Warrens?head swung in my direction and then he crooked a discreet finger to summon me closer. The reserved butler never raised his voice. Wouldn't do to yell.


"A question for you, Evans," he said in his refined and clipped voice.


I placed the armload of clean linen on the tea trolley, now repurposed to carry medical supplies and blankets, and approached.


I nodded. Once I proved a failure as a soldier, I trained as an orderly and at times drove the ambulance, ferrying wounded soldiers from the battlefield to the makeshift hospital.


Chapter 78