Stanley Weyman: 92 books

The old adage says that money changes everything, and according to the woebegone wealthy featured in the stories in Stanley J. Weyman's collection Laid Up in Lavender, that doesn't always mean change for the better. Romantic entanglements, legal woes, business failure, financial strife, and family drama...

Sometimes, a seemingly trivial turn of events can spiral into a huge mess. That's exactly what happens in Stanley J. Weyman's story "The Snowball," in which a casually tossed clod of ice and snow sets off an international incident. Packed with political intrigue from start to finish, fans of fast-paced historical fiction will thoroughly enjoy it.

A compilation of five masterful long short stories: "A Lodging for the Night" by Robert Louis Stevenson, "A Leaf in the Storm" by Ouida, "A Terribly Strange Bed" by Wilkie Collins, "Michael Lorio's Cross" by Hesba Stretton, and "A Perilous Amour" by Stanley J. Weyman.     

A fantastic romance novel set during the 16th century French Wars of Religion, written by the master of the romance novel, Stanley J. Weyman.

Set in the backdrop of Paris The House of the Wolf is an engrossing story about massacre. Weyman narrates about terror and horror residing in France at the time of St. Bartholomews Day at Massacre. The twists and turns of the plot are presented in an amazing manner. Captivating!

M. de Tavannes smiled. Mademoiselle averted her eyes, and shivered; as if the air, even of that close summer night, entering by the door at her elbow, chilled her. And then came a welcome interruption.

(1643) It was about a month after my marriage - and third clerk to the most noble the Bishop of Beauvais, and even admitted on occasions to write in his presence and prepare his minutes, who should marry if I might not? - it was about a month after my marriage, I say, that the thunderbolt, to which I...

THE FAIR AT FÉCAMP. "I am Jehan de Bault, Seigneur of--I know not where, and Lord of seventeen lordships in the County of---I forget the name, of a most noble and puissant family, possessing the High Justice, the Middle, and the Low. In my veins runs the blood of Roland, and of my forefathers were three...

It was late in November, 1456. The snow fell over Paris with rigorous, relentless persistence; sometimes the wind made a sally and scattered it in flying vortices; sometimes there was a lull, and flake after flake descended out of the black night air, silent, circuitous, interminable. To poor people,...

HÉ, SIRE ANE, HÉ! On the boundary line between the two counties of Warwick and Worcester there is a road very famous in those parts, and called the Ridgeway. Father Carey used to say--and no better Latinist could be found for a score of miles round in the times of which I write--that it was made by...

Foreseeing that some who do not love me will be swift to allege that in the preparation of these memoirs I have set down only such things as redound to my credit, and have suppressed the many experiences not so propitious which fall to the lot of the most sagacious while in power, I take this opportunity...