xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: September 2015

Saturday, 26 September 2015

Grandma Harriet's Yorkshire pudding - a family recipe as prepared in Yorkshire.

Ever eaten Yorkshire puddings made in the traditional Yorkshire way?
If not you’re in for a treat.
Yorkshire pudding started as a way to use the meat drippings. The first recorded recipe dates from 1737. True Yorkshire folk serve this as a first course with gravy. Maybe it’s because we’re tight and it was a way make the main course go further. Maybe it’s because they are so delicious.

My grandmother, born and bred on Yorkshire farm, used this recipe. It’s been in the family for generations.

Grandma Harriet’s Yorkshire Pudding
3 eggs
4 fluid ounce of full-fat milk
¼tsp salt
4oz plain flour
1 tablespoon cold water
Lard to grease the tins.

Don’t light the oven yet.

Patience is a virtue when making Yorkshire pudding
Put the flour in a bowl and crack the eggs into it. Beat until smooth.
 Next, beat in the milk. Then beat some more.
Arm aching yet? Then you’re doing it right.
Once the mixture is smooth and has bubbles on the surface, place in the fridge and wait at least twenty minutes.

Ideally, mix to this stage before you prepare the rest of you meal. A couple of hours earlier is better still.  
 How big do like your puddings? My grandmother had no time for mini puddings served on the side of a joint.
 Hers were generous, saucer sized puddings drowned in thick onion gravy. Yummy.

 Choose your pudding pan and add a knob of lard to each hollow. (Don’t worry about the fat content. According to one of my low fat cookbooks, it’s not absorbed into the pudding)
  Set your oven to Gas mark 7 or higher. Remember, this recipe is from before ovens were properly regulated. Put the tins in the oven and wait until the fat is not only melted but good and hot.  
 Now for the secret ingredient.
 Take your batter from the fridge. Don’t worry if it has separated or lost its froth. Add 1 tablespoon of cold water. Beat well.
 Now for the greatest secret
Add cold pudding mixture to the hot fat. The colder the mixture the better. 

Cooking time depends on the size of Yorkshire Pudding.
The larger pan shown takes just under 15 minutes
The ones in the smaller tin take around ten minutes.
The pudding should be well risen and golden, but not burned brown.

 Serve with gravy, and enjoy.

Feeling the need for meat? Brown some sausages and add to the batter before cooking.
You might see recipes that say fill this with something sweet and serve as a dessert. 
My advice - just don't. This is the perfect savory treat.

Yorkshire folk are great cooks, as proven by Ellie, the heroine in my book
To Mate a Werewolf. 
She cooked her way into Lyke hearts, mostly with her sweet treats and desserts, but her savoury dishes were always great too.   
The scars on Ellie Padget’s cheek are a constant reminder of the times she tried to escape from sexual slavery. Two years ago, Joel—alpha in waiting of the Tundra-Tough pack—led the rescue party that freed her. She’s loved him ever since.

Their relationship finally explodes into steaming sex, but he offers to pay her off. She walks away with her head high and her heart shattered. When she learns of a plot to destroy Joel and his pack, her only option is return to his side and warn him.

Joel has to fight to retain the pack that should be his by right, and no one can leave until the pack has a new alpha. He’s horrified when Ellie turns up on the night he’s to meet the woman he’s agreed to marry but never met. She’s stuck there until he claims his birthright. Finally, he realizes Ellie’s his true mate. Now he has to choose between his arranged marriage, and the one woman he truly loves. Will he choose with his head or his heart?

To Mate a Werewolf is a stand alone story within the Scattered Siblings series.

Buy links
Loose ID                   http://bit.ly/1G8ZVgr

Amazon Uk               http://amzn.to/1VhbFEy

Amazon US               http://amzn.to/1PFiOwQ  

Amazon Australia       http://bit.ly/1R8c37A
Who’d have thought that deep rumbling noise Joel made could be so sexy? When he caged Ellie with his body, her nipples ached, and liquid honey filled her cunt. Her legs trembled, and her pussy throbbed with sensual need. Shyly, she looped her arms around his neck and glanced around the cliff top. Whitby Abbey towered over them, and waves lapped at the harbor below. The town was just coming to life, and no tourists had ventured up there yet. Glad they were alone, she stepped still closer, and let Joel’s body warm her. 

Two years back, when the Elves still imprisoned her, they’d have punished her for seeking even a temporary comfort. Today Joel held her as if she was precious and perfect. His cologne reminded her of fresh mountain streams or hoarfrost shimmering in dawn’s first light. His hair felt soft and silky as she twirled the ends around her fingers. 

Joel growled again. The sound vibrated through her body, sending shock waves of pleasure exploding through her. She’d never felt so alive or so eager as when his lips brushed her ear. Every touch of his hand, even the way his breath tickled as it flowed over her neck, was a new delight for her to savor. 

For someone who’d been abused in terrible ways, her body thrummed with carnal desires. The heat Joel sparked inside her shattered the barriers she’d erected to block out her six months of sexual slavery. Two years of easy acceptance from Joel’s squadron of Lykae soldiers had helped rebuild her confidence. 

She’d loved Joel from the start. He’d led the rescue party that freed her from sexual slavery and held her while the drugs the Elves had tipped down her throat had worn off. After the sex-potions wore off and Ellie was safe, he’d kept his distance. 

Now, he wanted her as much as she wanted him, if the way his cock bulged beneath his pants was anything to go by. They didn’t have a future, but this interlude with Joel—and it could never be more—would finally put her past behind her. 

This one-sided-love thing sucked. She’d dreamed of so much more, but maybe just once she could have meaningless sex with Joel. Afterward she’d still need to move on. 

Other Lykae males had tried to date her, but her stupid heart demanded she save herself for Joel. If only he didn’t have eyes of the same clear blue as the turquoise beads in his hair, maybe she wouldn’t have hurt so badly. Add in his sculpted cheekbones and dirty blond hair that was striped with a dozen different shades of brown, and she was lost.Damn, he’s as handsome as he is…lickable. 

Today she set out to reclaim the life she’d lived before she knew about Elves and Lykae, but moving on hurt. This morning she’d fled the otherworld, but leaving Joel behind had etched cracks in her heart. They ran deeper than the scars Broken Nose had carved in her cheek. 

Not that Joel ever wanted her before today. 

Ellie leaned into him and wrapped one leg around his calf. Her lips parted, and he moved closer, a fraction of an inch at a time, giving her the chance to turn away and refuse him. Not that she would. She’d dreamed of his lips on hers or his hands on her breasts, and today her secret fantasies were coming true. 

Determined not to let the moment pass, she went up on tiptoe and buried her hands in his hair. He moved closer until his lips hovered over hers. 

“Don’t stop,” she begged. 

He took control, dominating her, demanding everything—and she gave it willingly. His lips were firm against hers, possessive and masterful. His kiss sent shivers of excitement down her spine. When his tongue tangled with hers, she ran her soft, military-style trainer up and down his calf. With a soft sigh, she arched her back and thrust her breasts forward in invitation. 

Joel groaned and kissed his way down her neck. She breathed in quick, sharp gasps. Again Ellie curled her fingers in his hair, tugging gently. 

He slid his hands under her T-shirt and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. She moaned as if he’d hotwired her sex drive. Maybe he had, but she wasn’t complaining. He stared into her eyes, patient, giving her chance to deny him. Instead, she nodded slightly, then shuddered with delight as he trailed his fingers around her midriff. And there went her bra. She hadn’t even realized he’d unfastened it, and now it lay at her feet along with the regulation black-and-turquoise T-shirt she didn’t remember shedding. 

She felt vulnerable, making out on the cliff, breasts bared, but these moments with Joel were precious—memories that would sustain her as she rebuilt her life. His warriors’ hands felt rough against her soft skin. She loved the new sensations he woke inside her. Heat rolled through her, simmering and warming her blood. 

With Joel, she’d learn how sex should be. She’d forget the way the Elves had forced her to perform sex acts for their pleasure, and move on. She wanted that more than anything. If only Joel would stop moving in slow motion. He was clearly willing to stop if his touch brought back too many bad memories, and she loved him all the more for it. But…Damn it. He’s killing me with kindness. 

Ellie wanted a fierce loving she’d remember all her life. Instead he gave her a leisurely seduction that drove her crazy. She shivered when he tongued her left nipple. He stroked and caressed the other between his finger and thumb. His touch fired her up, made her blaze with sensual hunger. She’d never needed anyone this way. Even without the Elves’ nymphomaniac potions, her body burned for Joel. 

Here on Whitby cliff top, he carried her into a world of sensation and animalistic pleasure. If she’d been a Lykae, she’d have howled with delight. Her nipples peaked, and the damp heat spread through her cunt. 

Ecstasy, this stolen liaison with Joel Blackheart was pure ecstasy. Addictive too. The taste of his lips and the hard planes of her body as he pressed against her gave her a tantalizing glimpse of things she could never fully possess. 

It didn’t matter that their love all flowed from her to him. She needed him to show her how great sex could be. With Joel, she could replace all her bad memories with something honest and good. When her hand brushed against his cock, it pulsed. For a moment she hesitated, then closed her hand around it. Big. So big. Lykae are definitely better hung than Elves. 

“More,” she whispered. “I need more.” 

Joel looked around, checking their surroundings. 

Doesn’t he want to be seen with me? No one else ventured up to Whitby Abbey at this time of year. It was still early by Lykae military standards, and by their standards, it was almost time for a midmorning snack. I wish he’d snack on me. 

He gathered her in his arms and leaped the high barrier enclosing the abbey grounds. Somehow she managed to scoop up her clothes. She had to leave her kit bag, but there was no one here to rifle through it. Then she relaxed and enjoyed being in the arms of the man she loved. Despite the way she nestled against his chest, he landed with feral grace. Ellie grinned, glad he’d found somewhere private. 

She was going to have sex—not the soul-shaming, force-you kind. This would be sex tinged with respect and kindness, something she’d never experienced before. Deep down she longed for soul-shattering sex, the sort that melded two people into one, but it couldn’t be. Not when he didn’t love her. 

She’d always been able to pretend things were the way she wanted, not the way they were. For now, she’d pretend they were together forever, and accept anything Joel offered. Mated? Me and a Lykae alpha. So not happening but… 

“Dreaming,” her mother had called it between mouthfuls of gin. 

Joel sniffed the air, tilted his head, and listened. Seagulls screeched, and way at the bottom of the cliff, fishermen joked as they landed their catch. Ellie could barely hear them, but she’d lay odds Joel could distinguish every word. Once he decided the area was secure, he laid her on a mossy bank. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as his hungry gaze swept over her. 

Come on, Joel. Fuck me, please. 

She lay, leg bent at the knee, hair mussed, and lips swollen from his kiss. Her nipples beaded as Joel’s tongue made slow, sensual strokes against hers. Everything inside her cried out for him to lick her breasts, or better still, her pussy. 

He stared at her the way a starving gourmet would salivate over his best ever feast. She’d kill to have him look at her that way every day. 

See? Dreaming again. 

Joel rolled each of her nipples in turn between his thumb and forefinger. Nothing had ever felt this good, or left her so desperate for more. She squirmed beneath him, her panties already damp with her desire. 

He lowered his head to her breasts, and between long, leisurely licks that made her thighs quiver, he asked, “Are you sure about this? I’ll stop if you want.” 

“Want you inside me.” She panted and unfastened her waistband. When she lifted her hips, he pulled her Lykae military-issue trousers over her thighs. Somehow her panties came with them. Tricksy, adorable wolf. Her hand shook as she fumbled at the leather thong holding up his pants. 

Joel grinned, pulled off his military shirt, and kicked off his pants. Once they were both naked, he bent closer and took possession of her lips. Their kiss was endless, their passion igniting. 

Sweet sensation consumed her. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation, and her throat dried. Her fingers curled until her nails dug into her palms. Nervous but excited, she relaxed her hand and reached for his cock. It felt hot and hard, and her fingers didn’t quite close around it. 

He growled and thrust into her fist. 

Her feelings consumed her. This ardor was too much, her need too great. She took quick, shallow breaths as she stared at his high cheekbones and kissable lips. When she looked into his eyes, she thought she’d drown. 
Copyright © Kryssie Fortune

Thursday, 24 September 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Karen McCullough

Five Facts About A Question of Fire

1.   The heroine of A Question of Fire is probably my favorite of all the heroines I’ve ever written. She has an off-beat sense of humor that manifests at odd times. A number of readers have commented how much they enjoyed her unusual brand of wit. At one point in the book she’s having lunch with the hero, who is a bit of a health-food nut. See the excerpt below for their dialogue.

2.   The climactic confrontation involves our heroes in a chase through the woods of the Blue Ridge Mountains and then a car chase on the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s an area I’ve traveled many times and writing that scene was about as much fun as it’s possible for a writer to have.

3.   This was the second novel I ever wrote, but it wasn’t my first published novel.  I wrote four more complete novels before I sold my first one, The Night Prowlers, to Avalon Books.

4.   It did eventually sell to a publisher, but only after I’d rewritten it completely three times.

5.   It’s been through several different publishers. After it went out of print, I got back the rights to it. It then went to an e-publisher, who went out of business a few months later. The rights to it were transferred to another small press publisher, who put out both print and ebook versions before themselves going out of business.  I released it myself as an ebook a few years ago, my first venture into e-publishing.


When Cathy Bennett agrees to attend an important party as a favor for her boss, she knows she won't enjoy it. But she doesn't expect to end up holding a dying man in her arms and becoming the recipient of his last message. Bobby Stark has evidence that will prove his younger brother has been framed for arson and murder. He wants that evidence to get to his brother's lawyer, and he tries to tell Cathy where he's hidden it. But he dies before he can give her more than a cryptic piece of the location.

The man who killed Bobby saw him talking to her and assumes she knows where the evidence is hidden. He wants it back and he'll do whatever it takes to get it, including following her and trying to kidnap her.

Cathy enlists the aid of attorney Peter Lowell and Danny Stark, Bobby's prickly, difficult younger brother, as well as a handsome private detective to help her find the evidence before the killers do.


Lowell was quiet while the waitress delivered their plates.  "I suppose I owe you the assistance," he said when the girl had left.  "Since it's my client we're trying to get off the hook."  He picked up his sandwich, which seemed to consist mostly of lettuce and tomato, and took a bite.  He noticed her staring at him.   "What's the matter?"
"What have you got on your sandwich?" she asked.
"Lettuce, tomato, Provolone cheese, mayonnaise, and cucumber.  Why?"
"Cucumber?"  Cathy had to repress a shiver.  "Why aren't you having a real sandwich?  You're not on a diet, are you?"  Lowell was built pretty lean, but he might have to work to stay that way.
"This is a real sandwich," he said.
"There's no meat on it.  This is a real sandwich."  Cathy held up her roast beef.
He looked at it with distaste.  "That's a pile of cholesterol between two pieces of limp styrofoam."
"At least it's edible.  Human food."  She pointed at his lunch.  "That's a salad on two pieces of burnt toast."
"This is good for you."
"But this tastes good."
"This argument is ridiculous," Lowell said, setting his sandwich down.  "Truce.  Eat your lunch and enjoy it, and I'll eat mine.  And enjoy it, too.  Cucumber and all.  Fair enough?"

Buy Links:

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/sv/book/a-question-of-fire/id450431562?l=en&mt=11

 Author Bio:

Karen McCullough’s wide-ranging imagination makes her incapable of sticking to one genre for her storytelling. As a result, she’s the author of more than a dozen published novels and novellas, which span the mystery, fantasy, paranormal, and romantic suspense genres. A former computer programmer who made a career change into being an editor with an international trade publishing company for many years, she now runs her own web design business to support her writing habit. Awards she’s won include an Eppie Award for fantasy; three other Eppie finals; Prism, Dream Realm, Rising Star, Lories, Scarlett Letter, and Vixen Awards, and an Honorable Mention in the Writers of the Future contest. Her short fiction has appeared in several anthologies and numerous small press publications in the fantasy, science fiction, and romance genres. She lives in Greensboro, NC, with her husband of many years.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarenMcCulloughAuthor

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Is this the World's Weirdest place?

I'm in a the land of Raquel Welch, bad tempered camels, steam geysers and wood that spontaneously combusts.
The local farmers on this island once used camels to plow their fields, but now they prefer tractors. Not that there’s much agriculture here. Between 1730 and 1736 the local volcano spewed gas and lava across the land.

A local priest, Father Andrés Lorenzo Curbelo, gave us this haunting description of nature at its cruelest.

 The earth suddenly opened near Timanfaya. An enormous mountain emerged from the ground with flames coming from its summit. It continued burning for 19 days. Some days later, a new abyss developed and an avalanche of lava rushed down over Timanfaya, Rodeo and part of Mancha Blanca. The lava extended over to the northern areas to begin with, running as fast as water, though it soon slowed down and ran like honey.

Fortunately, no lives were lost, but the good father tells us.

 Cattle dropped dead, asphyxiated by the vapors. Huge numbers of dead fish floated about on the sea or were thrown on to the shore. 

Nature destroyed people’s homes, land, crops, and cattle. The soil they’d worked for centuries lay beneath a thick lava crust. Just walking across a lava field is a braving death trap.

Have you worked out where I am yet?

I’m on the Spanish Island of Lanzarote, just 78 miles off the coast of Africa. The whole place is a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, where scientists study the way nature reclaims the land.

You know I write erotic romance, right? It took me a while to work out the thing  between the mascot’s legs was his demon tail.

A visit to the Timanfaya national park is a must. 
Of course, in the UK, entrance to National Parks is free so I turned my nose up at paying the modest entrance charge. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Parking is limited and strictly monitored. It’s on a one in, one out basis. The road went up, up, and then up again. We pulled up and made our way to the Cesar Manrique designed restaurant.

At the highest point of the car park, guides sorted us by nationality then herded us onto coaches. The height gave us a good view of the alien landscape.

Misshapen lava towers twisted around us as the coach ran along a narrow ravine that climbed to the volcano summits. The lava’s thin in parts and brittle. Any unwary human walking here could put their foot through it and plummet into the lava cave below.

I already have plans to set a book here.
Once the coach dropped us back in the car park, things got weirder.
A barbecue grill sits over a hole in the ground. And boy is it hot. So hot that the earth’s natural heat cooks succulent chicken pieces here.

Of course, I had to try some. What can I say?
Best. Lunch. Ever.

 While we ate, strange things were going on outside.
Guides tipped water into hollow cans atop tubes stuck in the ground
Three seconds later, the water evaporated and steam shot out the can in a high-pressure geyser.

Then, on the lower balcony, a guide thrust a piece of tree branch into a hole. No messing around striking flints or rubbing sticks together here.

So what do camels and Raquel Welch have to do with anything?
This landscape was used in the original version of the film 1000000 Years BC.
Raquel strutted through the lava in her fur bikini, but she had to watch where she put her feet.

And the camels?
Before we reached the national park, we went camel trekking. Have you ever ridden a camel?
Talk about bad tempered. The groan and spit, but they’re cloven hooved and sure footed.

  Riding one is like balancing in swaying crow’s nest atop a high mast. No wonder they call them the ship of the desert. Originally they were imported from Africa. Now they're a tourist attraction.

Lanzarote is certainly one of the weirdest places I've ever been. 

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Daryl Devore

Seven planes lift off…seven planes crash…seven stories of struggle, passion and love in the barren Canadian Wilderness, the coast of England, or the steamy heat of a tropical island. Romance hangs in the balance between survival and death.

Crashing Into Love is the brain child anthology of Brenda Dyer and D'Ann Lindun and as one of the 7 authors I'm here today with 5 facts from the anthology.

Fact 1 – from Brace For Impact – by Daryl Devore – The scene where the evacuation chute opens inside the plane is based on an actual event.

Fact 2 – from Crashing Into You by Lisa Kumar – While Lisa has never worked as a social worker like her heroine Ashlee has, she has worked in the mental health field as a crisis worker and as a therapeutic support person.

Fact 3 – from Crash and Burn by Melissa Keir - In her story, she included her real dog as a character. Keira needed a baby to love since she couldn't have a baby due to infertility problems so the dog becomes a fur baby.

Fact 4 – from Crashing Through Time by Jenna Jaxon – The beginning of Jenna's book is based on a true incident when her daughter and she were flying back from Memphis. But the left engine didn't actually catch on fire, it just smelled like it had. Her fact is that plane engines that have sat in a hangar for a while smell like they're catching fire when started.

Fact 5 – from A Splash of Romance by Deb Julienne - In this story, the true fact is that instead of a python, it was an octopus that wrapped around Deb and to quote her ...oh God...I need a shower...still freaked out.


Brace for Impact by Daryl Devoré. What could be simpler than a routine plane trip from Toronto, Canada to Caracas, Venezuela for rookie flight attendant, Lori, and sexy R.C.M.P. officer, Guy Lapierre? But Fate had other intentions.

Crashing into You by Lisa Kumar When Ashlee Trent meets handsome businessman Kaiden West on a plane to Australia, he eases her fears even as he sets her heart ablaze. But after their plane crashes into the ocean and they wash ashore, will the secrets surrounding him send their budding relationship into a nosedive?

Crash and Burn by Melissa Keir Can Rob and Keira's second honeymoon lead to romance, or will it crash and burn? On the verge of a divorce, Rob and Keira Matthews book a second honeymoon at the urging of their counselor. Unable to conceive, they've pushed each other away in an effort to protect their hearts. Will a romantic holiday be the ticket to love or a plane crash in disaster??

Crashing Through Time by Jenna Jaxon The most dangerous thing about time travel is knowledge of the past: does she save him and change history, or let the tragic events play out and lose the love of her life?
More than hearts can be broken when you crash through time

Love Comes Crashing In by Brenda Dyer Best friends find love in each other's arms, but can that love survive reality?

Falling Hard by D'Ann Lindun He craves solitude to forget what a woman did to him. She needs one last chance before her career ends. Can a plane crash in the Canadian Rockies show them what really matters?

A Splash of Romance by Deb Julienne Hannah Parks is a trauma nurse on her way to a symposium at the Sister Kenny Rehabilitation Institute. She just started her bucket list and a plane crash definitely isn't on it. Oliver Lawson's divorce is almost final and he's looking to start over. A tropical island, a gorgeous woman, and romance is one thing, getting there as a result of a crash landing...who knew?

Buy Links

Saturday, 12 September 2015

The MIssing Ninth Legion? You decide

Last week, I wrote about a Yorkshire witch. This week it’s a Yorkshire ghost—or more honestly, a whole Roman legion of them.

I love ancient places, and I live in Leeds, just twenty miles from the historic City of York. The Celts called if Eoforwick—or place of the Yew Trees. When the Romans invaded, they Latinized the name to Eboracum.
Parts of the Roman fortress are visible in York Minster’s crypt. They built the first stone walls around the city. 
.Dere Street and other Roman roads all led to their fortress, and tourists can still visit the soldiers’ bathhouse in the cellar of the Roman Baths pub.

Even when the Romans left Britain, York prospered.
The Vikings conquered then colonised, but they called the town Jorvic. 
In 1066 King Harold fought off another Viking attack at Stamford Bridge just near York. Six days and a 275-mile march later, he lost the Battle of Hasting to William of Normandy—known at the time as William the Bastard. By then the Roman fortress was ruined, and the Normans built York’s magnificent Minster on the site.
This is where it gets spooky. In 1457 the Minster’s treasurer lived in a grand house just yards from the Minister. 
One of the old Roman Roads runs through its cellar. The Treasure’s House belongs to the National Trust now. They keep it in good order, and in 1953 a plumber’s young apprentice was working in the cellar.
The apprentice climbed his ladder and chiseled at the ceiling to get to the pipes. He heard a horn blow, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Soon after, he saw a Roman soldier on horseback come out of the wall, ride down the road, and vanish. He was so stunned he fell off his ladder.

I’d have been out of there, fast.
The apprentice was a damn sight braver than me. Once the horse vanished, a Roman legion marched out of the wall, all in pairs. They carried round shields on their left arm and held long daggers in their right hand. They wore green shirts and red skirts hung with strips of metal, but they had no legs below the knee.
When archaeologists excavated, they found a section of Roman Road beneath cellar. The apprentice realised the ghost legion had walked along it. He spotted the top of leather lacing just where the legs vanished.
Any historians out there? If there are, they’ll know Romans carried huge rectangular shields called scrutum and only laced their sandals to their ankles. Or so everyone once thought.
Archaeologists on Hadrian’s Wall discovered the Romans there fought with round shields and laced their sandals up to their knees.

 Only they discovered them long after the 1950’s. Experts now agree the young apprentice’s description was correct, but again, back in the 1950’s they’d have said his details were wrong.
Coincidence? Or an army of Roman ghosts? The missing Ninth legion perhaps? You decide.
When the apprentice fled the cellar, the Treasurer’s House curator took one look at his face and knew he’d seen the ghosts. 

Later, that apprentice, Harry Martindale, became a respected member of the police force. He never retracted his story though.