In August, I traveled
with my family to Charleston, South Carolina, a favorite place of mine. We, of
course, couldn’t pass on the many ghost tours offered there and chose one that
included walking through parts of the old town after dark. We heard many
interesting and frightening tales, but one in particular stayed with me. And
once I returned home, I did a bit of research to satisfy my morbid (pun
intended) curiosity.
Recognized as the first
female serial killer in the U. S., Lavinia Fisher was born in 1793. Her birthplace, maiden name, or her childhood
remains a mystery. She married John Fisher, and in the 1800's they opened a
hotel aptly named the Six Mile Wayfarer House, as it was six miles outside of
Charleston. Men visiting the area began to disappear. Report after report was
filed with the authorities regarding these missing men, and it was determined
that all of them were last seen at The Six Mile Wayfarer House. An investigation
was begun, but there was no evidence found showing the Fishers were involved.
And with their popularity with the community, the investigation was dropped
Lavinia was a charming dark-haired
beauty, which added to her popularity and her hotel business. It was later
learned that she had used those same attributes to help her husband rob and
kill many male travelers. As more and more travelers went missing, people began
to gossip, and in February, 1819, as group of vigilantes arrived at the Fishers
to stop whatever was happening. The Fishers somehow convinced them of their
innocence and the mob returned to Charleston. But they left one man, David
Ross, behind to keep an eye on the place. The next day, in the early morning
hours, he was attacked and brought before a group of men and Lavinia Fisher,
whom he asked for help. But instead of helping Ross, she choked him, and then
shoved his head through a window. He was able to somehow escape and went to the
authorities.
It was near that same time
that John Peeples was traveling to Charleston from Georgia. Exhausted, he stopped
at The Six Mile House for a room. The beautiful Lavinia warmly greeted him, but
told him there was no room available, but invited him in for tea and a meal.
Enjoying her company, he ignored the strange way her husband glanced at him and
kept talking with Lavinia, answering whatever question she asked. She left the
table and returned with tea and let him know that a room had become available.
Lavinia poured him a cup of tea. John didn't like tea, but didn't wish to
offend his lovely host. When she wasn’t looking, he poured it out. Later he was
showed to his room. After thinking about it, he wondered why she had asked so
many questions. And why her husband had kept looking at him. He became wary of
robbery, after realizing all the information about himself he had provided
them. Thinking it safer, he slept in the chair by the door, instead of the bed.
A loud noise woke him. Looking about the room, he noticed, to his horror, the bed
he should have been sleeping in had fallen into a hole in the floor. Terrified,
John jumped out the window, got on his horse and fled to the authorities in
Charleston.
The hotel was painstakingly
searched and the grounds dug up. It was filled with hidden passages containing,
items that could be traced to dozens of travelers, a tea laced with an herb
that would put someone to sleep for hours, a mechanism that could be triggered
to open the floorboards beneath the bed, and in the basement, as many as a hundred
sets of remains.
John and Lavinia
Fisher, along with two men they'd been working with, were arrested. The Fishers
pleaded not guilty, but were kept in jail until their trial. The two men with
them were released on bail.
At their trial in May,
the Fishers were found guilty of many murders and robberies and were sentenced
to hang. They were housed in the same cell, and fashioned a rope from the jail
linens. After John got out, the rope broke, leaving his wife inside. Refusing
to leave her, he turned himself in. After that, they were more closely guarded.
In
February, 1820, they appealed their conviction, but it was rejected and their
hanging was set for later that month. Reverend Richard
Furman visited the couple to offer his service. It is said that John begged the
priest to save his soul if not his life. But the heartless Lavinia would have
nothing to do with him.
On February 18, 1820, the Fishers were taken
from the Charleston Jail to the gallows behind the building. John prayed
quietly with the minister whom he'd given a letter to be read, stating his
innocence and asking mercy for those in the judicial process who had wronged
him. The letter having been read, he pleaded his case before a crowd of nearly
2,000. Before he was hanged, he asked them to forgive him.
Twenty-seven year-old Lavinia, on the other hand, did not go
quietly. Wearing her wedding dress, she refused to walk to the gallows. Ranting
and raving, she had to be picked up and carried there, where she continued to
scream at the crowd, especially the socialites, blaming them specifically for
her conviction. She yelled into the crowd, "If you have a message you want
to send to hell, give it to me—I'll carry it." Before the executioners
could finish the job, she jumped from the scaffold herself and dangled down
into the crowd. People who attended the hanging said they had never seen such a
wicked stare or chilling sneer as was on Lavinia's face.
It is said her ghost still roams Charleston. Soon after her death, her face was seen floating in front of the window of the jail where she was held. Several people recently visiting the old jail claim to have seen Lavinia wearing her wedding dress. People have been choked and scratched. A tour guide felt a rope being wrapped around her ankle. A man had his sunglasses knocked from his face. Locked doors are found open, and strange, unexplained sounds are heard often. Is it Lavinia bent on tormenting those she thinks did her wrong?
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After her clan's castle falls under siege, the fair-haired
Lady Jillian MacRae finds a way to escape with her four-year-old brother, seeking
help from the handsome Kade MacLachlan, laird and master of Ravenskull Castle. Four
years past their love had been strong—until her father betrothed her to another
man who was later killed. Now, it is Kade she turns to for help in regaining
control of her own castle from the wicked man who has taken over and intends to
marry her. Once she is again face-to-face
with Kade, she realizes the love she thought she'd put aside is alive and
thriving.
Kade is speechless when the beautiful Jillian offers
herself to him in exchange for protecting her young brother and banishing the
intruders from her castle—an offer he is more than willing to accept. He has no
intention of allowing her to slip through his fingers again. And when her life
hangs in the balance, he will not let anything—or anyone—stop him from saving
her, even as his own life dangles by a thread.
Excerpt:
Kade poured himself a second dram of whisky and drained the goblet. He couldn't get Jilly off his mind. She'd walked into Ravenskull two days ago and taken him over, both mind and body. Not only that—she'd taken over his dreams. When she'd shoved the cloak from her head, she’d taken his breath away. Her beauty had hit him like a kick to the gut. She'd always been a pretty lass, but she had blossomed into a young woman of tremendous beauty. Her eyes were the same color as a still loch reflecting the blue sky above. How he ached to run his fingers through her long, blond hair, and bury his face in it. It would smell as sweet as a Highland rose—Kade was certain of it. He'd noticed the intoxicating scent the moment he'd sat down on the settle beside her. And those full lips of hers. They were perfectly made for kissing, and he wanted to be the one to kiss them. Kade stood up from the chair. 'Twas late, but no matter. He had to see her.
Jillian
had just crawled into bed, when someone softly knocked. Perhaps 'twas her
mother come to tell her good-night. She opened the door. Kade.
He
stood in the doorway, the scent of whisky on his breath. "Might I come
in?" he asked, his voice low.
She
hesitated. No man, other than her father, had ever stepped foot inside her bedchamber.
"I
ken 'tis late, Jilly, but I must see you. I promise it won't take long."
The
look in his eyes begged her to allow him entrance. She couldn't refuse. Jillian
stepped aside.
He
hurried into the room, locking the door behind him.
"If
my father finds you in here, there's no telling what he might do."
"Aye."
He nodded, but I had to see you."
Jillian
shivered.
He
moved closer to her, his gaze settling on her lips. "Jilly, you make me
daft. I'm as a thirsty man in need of a drink, and I'm afraid the only thing
that will quench my thirst is a taste of you."
Her
knees trembled and her heart raced.
He
leaned down and gently brushed his lips over hers.
She
closed her eyes, savoring the amazing sensation. Then he covered her mouth with
his, devouring her. He tasted of whisky and smelled of sandalwood.
Slipping
his arms tightly around her, he pulled her closer, softly moaning.
Her
whole body feverish, she clung to Kade's shirt as she returned his kisses. His
muscles felt hard beneath her fists and she yearned to touch him. Jillian let
go of his shirt and ran her hands over his chest, his shoulders, his back. What
was wrong with her? She could barely breathe.
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