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An Historic Adventure
In a Town Full of Gunslingers, Never Underestimate the Women with Nothing to Lose.
A thrilling adventure of Women in the Wild West: Sex, Guns and Revenge.
Soiled Doves: A Story of Grit & Grace
History has always been written about important men, historical fiction has the freedom to explore the lives of everyone else. It is our link to the past, and recognition that we did not arrive here without the love, toil and heartbreak of those who came before.
The Book That Starts with a Whisper
…and Ends with a Gunshot
An evocative journey into the heart of the Wild West.
Lily’s transformation from a grieving widow to a resilient brothel worker is captivating. The book masterfully explores themes of survival, friendship, and redemption. A must-read for anyone who loves rich historical fiction with complex, strong female characters.
★★★★★
anonamous
This novel pulls you in! A fantastic read.
Soiled Doves is a fantastic and well written novel! This book just sucks you right in and is hard to set down. What a great story of resilience. Highly recommend!
★★★★★
KLC
Entertains as well as enlightens
“Soiled Doves” is a feat of storytelling, combining romance, adventure, and a profound, riveting examination of the human soul. It’s a novel that entertains as well as enlightens, leaving readers satisfied and wanting more. If you’re looking for a book that’s both thoughtfully sexual and intriguing, look no further. This is a narrative that will be with you long after the last page is flipped.
★★★★★
Jack
This isn’t a love story. It’s a reckoning
What fellow writers say…
Tombstone, Arizona was the last act of the Amiercan Frontier, when the Earps and the Clantons shot it out near the OK Corral. But there was a third interested party: the Soiled Doves, the whores who knew everything that went on and how to profit from it. Following the moral fall of Lily O’Grady, Anne Shelley’s novel of the battle of the sexes is a stunning look at women in the west.
★★★★★
Richard Mueller
Chapter one: Lily
Lily felt the sunlight cutting open the sky. The dawn light made everything in the tent monochromatic. Patrick lay beside her on the bed roll. Sweat was already forming on his pale face and trickling down his neck. He rolled towards her, his leg touched hers and she jerked her leg away automatically.
She wondered why she had withdrawn from him, why her body had recoiled from him without her even thinking about it. She loved him, why should she feel repulsed by him, it had never been that way before. When they were young she would have never withdrawn from him. As she lay in the grey dawn she thought of home. It would be cooling now, the leaves starting to turn. Two years ago Patrick would have taken her for a walk in the park and talked. He would have spoken of his dreams, of striking it rich and setting them up in a virgin territory with a little house and a garden of flowers. Back then he would have stared intently into her eyes. Smiling just a little his fingers would brush back the loose hair that fell against her face. His fingers would move down her jawline and across her lips
