Alice V.L.'s Blog, page 2

The Bookstore Series – A Crinkle In Time

~ First Chapter ~

“For one moment in time, for one call of the heart and the mind to the soul, time is nothing. When the soul agrees that there might have been a fault in the stars, the heart, the mind and the soul will come together, and alter one moment in time.” – Adelaine Alandrali

She mustered up all the strength she had left inside of her to turn onto her side, and pull her legs up against her, until her knees touched the warmth of her chin.

She was crippled by fear as she stared apprehensively out in front of her. Her terrified eyes searched for a shadow that had cruelly infested her home and infected her life only a few minutes earlier.

She could hear the echo of his footsteps as though he was trampling holes through her floor, with each angry step he took. She listened closely as she held her breath to what sounded like a zipper being pulled up.

Holly folded her arms around her belly and was at once unnervingly aware of a warmth that had begun to seep through her hands. As she lay desperate to identify the warm wetness that was flowing through her fingers, she suddenly heard the slamming of what she was sure was her front door.

The violent way in which a door had been battered and shut, echoed down the hall, and right into her bedroom where she was laying motionlessly on the floor, submerged in a pool of her own blood.

She fought desperately to keep her eyes open as they grew heftier with each passing moment and with each breath she struggled to take.

As her tears slowly dribbled from her eyes, Holly lay on her bedroom floor, unable to make a sound and powerless to move. As her blood cascaded around her, the stench in the air began to sicken her. Her body contorted violently when she detected the continuous flow of her own blood all around her.

She could not bear the horrific smell that had begun to immensely frighten and terrorize her. The whiff of death wholly plunged her into a kind of stench she had never inhaled or smelled before.

The waves of panic that had begun to overwhelm her, sent a panic-filled shudder down her spine. She was suddenly cold and sleepy. She moved her toes slightly, and was at once aware of a throbbing, burning sensation in her legs that travelled right down to her feet and into the very tips of her toes.

The warmth that had seeped out below her and soaked into her body, had become ice-cold. She was once again gravely aware of how distressingly weighty and sluggish her eyes had become.

The intense discomfort throughout her body became almost too much to endure, when she could not determine precisely where her soreness was coming from. She could not identify a single segment of her body that was not aching.

She wanted to surrender to the pain; to break down and scream out in agony, but even that seemed almost too excruciating to do.

Her breathing had become severely labored, as she distraughtly gasped for air to fill her lungs. With each breath she fought to take, she was sure that her airways were severely restricting her ability to breath, and that her lungs could no longer take in even a single breath of fresh air.

Her legs were cold and shaking irrepressibly. Holly realized in horror that she was completely naked from the waist down. Again, she tried to move, but she could barely move a finger, or lift an arm.

With every bit of strength left inside of her, she turned onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling, still frantic not to surrender to the darkness that was threatening to overpower her. She turned her head and stared at the calendar that she had hung up behind her door only a few weeks earlier.

“February 12th, 2005 …”

She whispered huskily and knew instinctively that it would be the date permanently marked and inscribed on her tombstone.

“How often didn’t I reach this day in all the years I have lived, and I never knew … I never knew …”

She thought sadly as she lay staring at the date. Her eyes moved forward two days when she noticed the enormous red circle she drew around the 14th,

“Valentine’s day …”

She whispered softly before she slowly turned away from the calendar, and allowed her eyes to rest on the ceiling once again.

She felt a sharp twinge come from her belly. When she could no longer control her agony; when the fear began to cripple and wholly engulf her, she finally cried out in grueling pain when she realized that the warmth was nothing more than her own blood that was seeping from her stomach.

She had, only moments before, been gutted with her own kitchen knife, and left for dead by a man she had known for most of her adulthood.

Adam Weston had relentlessly pursued her during her years at college, and when she fell in love with his best friend, Mark Quinn, Adam slowly withdrew from their crowd as a way to punish her.

When he later joined Mark as a firefighter in Hazel Creek, Holly was sure that Adam had finally come to terms with her relationship with Mark and that he had ultimately moved past his utter sensitivity of that, that immensely plagued him; the fact that Holly had rejected his advances.

Adam was assigned to District 61, while Mark was stationed at District 59 shortly after they had completed their training in Queenstown.

When they both were sent to the city to complete the grueling training that would later make firemen out of them, their friendship once again became more like a brotherhood.

Holly was pleased and relieved that they were able to reconnect and place their differences aside. In no way at all, was it her intention to dissolve a friendship that had been around long before Holly showed up.

After Mark and Holly’s wedding in September the previous year, Holly couldn’t help but notice a restlessness about Adam, almost like some sort of turmoil that was brewing inside of him.

She felt incredibly awkward around Adam, and she became intensely suspicious of him when he would show up at their apartment unannounced, especially when Mark was on shift.

He would frequently show up as an uninvited guest, and falsely claim that he was simply there, waiting for Mark to end his shift and meet up with him.

Holly would feel increasingly compromised when he would stand particularly close to her, and when he tried to kiss her once, she insisted that he no longer show up at their apartment while Mark was at work.

Holly in no way at all, ever mentioned her feelings of discomfort around Adam to Mark and she did not have the heart to tell Mark about Adam’s intrusiveness towards her.

Holly and Mark had moved into their apartment shortly before their wedding a few months ago. They had met when Holly began her first year at college in Hazel Creek. She had only months before enrolled in a graphics design course, while Mark was keen to complete a certified paramedic’s course with Adam.

Adam and Mark were close friends, a sort of a brotherhood that Holly could never quite understand; one that dated back to their primary school years.

They had met in grade two and were inseparable almost from day one.

Mark’s mother, Shirley would often tell Holly stories of how the two boys would spell nothing more than utter trouble together.

They were persistently in trouble, but Arnold, Marks’s father would regularly reassure Shirley that they were simply young boys doing what boys did best, cause havoc.

Yet, Shirley couldn’t shake a feeling of uneasiness and anxiety around Adam.

She once told Holly how Mark would appear to be disciplined, well-spoken and well-mannered when Adam wasn’t around, but the moment that Adam would show up, Mark’s attitude would be altered at once.

When Sarah met Adam, she had no desire at all to become romantically involved with him, but they became friends all the same.

Adam seemed rather odd looking to Holly, and from the very beginning, there was something that unnerved her about him.

He had a way of peering over his glasses at Holly, which would leave her feeling as though he could see right into her soul and below the depths of her skin.

She would often catch a glimpse of his eyes trailing over body, and she would at once fold her arms around her, desperate to shield her body from his piercing glare.

The way he would look at her would leave her feeling as though he was undressing her with his yes and with his mind.

One more occasions than one, Holly would walk away from him feeling naked, violated and disgusted. Adam made no excuses for his behavior, and when Holly once asked him why he would stare so piercingly at her, he simply laughed it off.

“I don’t even realize I’m staring, Holly. Are you sure I do?”

“Yes Adam, and it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like it.”

She would snap at him before she would walk away and avoid him at every corner and turn for the next couple of days.

His sandy blonde hair seemed unruly and unwashed most of the time, but his darker than midnight eyes sent tremors down her spine each time she would look into them.

Holly could not help but often think that no-one, but his mother could consider Adam worthy of love and care.

Adam was self-centered, egotistical and dark. There was a darkness about him that would frighten Holly immensely.

She would catch glimpses of his facial expressions as they drove past an accident scene, and by the unnerving smile on his face, Holly knew that Adam’s behavior was not normal. It was almost as though he was relishing in the horror, and that his eyes were feasting on the sight of blood.

Often, she would hear him tell Mark about an animal that he found in the middle of the road after it was struck by a car.

The way in which he described the brutality of the accident and the subsequent injuries, left Holly reeling.

She by no means at all, found him attractive in any way. He had filled out rather early on, but his cheek bones gave him a skeletal look.

It was clear to Holly that his muscled look was as a result of hours in the gym, and endless skiing holidays throughout the years.

He was by no means at all a good-looking man, but his physical appearance made him attractive to the opposite sex, or so it seemed to Holly. He took great pride in his body, and again, Holly couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to overcompensate for his lack of manly beauty.

When Holly met Mark, she was at once bowled over by his warm and energetic nature. She was instantly mesmerized by his forest green eyes.

When she looked into them for the very first time, she was reminded of ripples in a pond. It would tell her of a forest quenched after it rains, and it would reflect the ocean’s temperament during a storm.

His eyes were almost as though there was a promise that spring was about to push its way through piles and piles of snow after an especially cold winter. She fell hopelessly in love with his dark, not quite black hair.

She adored the way the fragments of color seemed as though it had bled out like ink hemorrhaging from a pen and replaced by tones of grey almost as though they were apologizing to him. Mark was the kind of man that stopped her in her tracks.

The way in which his weak smile and nonchalant gaze caught her attention, reinforced the fact that Mark had no idea how strikingly attractive he was. What appealed to her the most was how modest he was and how his blush was a dead give-away to his bashful nature.

He was as handsome as they come, but it could in no way at all, compare with his beautiful nature.

He would speak slowly and softly. Holly can barely remember a single day that Mark raised his voice at her.

She often told him that he could just as well be the honey pot that attracted the bees. Strangers would warm up to him instantly, while old friends would stand protectively beside him.

He couldn’t hurt a fly, and not once did Holly ever see him lose his temper or act on impulse or frustration.

He was everything Adam was not and again, Holly could not quite uncover the secret to their rock-solid, and loyal friendship. It almost did not seem natural to Holly.

She was certain that she often caught glimpses of agitation from Mark following a frustrating conversation with Adam. There were times when Holly could swear that Mark felt the need to force tolerance for Adam.

Holly Mackenzie was born in Hazel Creek and raised by her devoted mother after her father passed away only a few months after she was born.

Danielle Mackenzie once told her the story of how Holly had inherited her father’s appearance, from her pearly blonde hair right through to her hazel eyes. Her emotions were as his, not easily hidden on her innocent face.

When she felt pain, just like Arthur Mackenzie, Holly’s was evident in the crease of her brow and the down-curve on her full lips.

Danielle often told Holly how she thought her face was cut out right from the pages of a magazine and shown to God before she was born.

She was a beautiful girl who stopped growing before her sixteenth birthday. Holly was by no means at all, beautiful in the way that beauty was measured.

Her skin was not perfect, her hair often too curly and there was nothing piercing about her eyes. She was shorter that the average woman, yet, it was in her ordinariness that she was extraordinary.

Holly grew up as a simple girl. She was always the one to help those around her, and she was utterly grateful for all she had, and all Danielle was able to give her.

But, Holly had a smile that could catch anyone off-guard, and when she laughed, it was almost as though the entire world would come to an abrupt end and laugh her laugh with her. Mark once told her that to be around her made him feel as though he was someone important. Regardless of the season, she would project endless summer rays to warm him and rejuvenate his spirit

Holly and Danielle would regularly visit Arthur’s grave and religiously place flowers at his tomb stone. It was during one of those visits that Danielle Mackenzie told Holly how her father, Arthur was killed on a bright, sunny, Sunday morning.

Their morning began just like a hundred Sunday mornings before that. Yet, Danielle told Holly how something felt different that day; something felt no quite right but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

The sunrise was tainted by a pinkish glow, unlike any other Sunday before. When she stood staring out of her bedroom window, she was sure that the clouds were tinted and that the colors had spread across the sky announcing an unexpected event, as if by a celestial hand.

But, other than any morning before, the air was almost too clear, the morning shadows too distinct and the water in their pond glittered like she had never seen before.

Arthur was an avid cyclist who took immense pride in his appearance, his fitness and his health.

He was habitually complemented on his physique, and Arthur would contribute his energy and well-being to that of years of cycling.

He would cycle each morning before work, but on Sundays, he would sleep in for an extra hour, before he set out and cycled through Hazel Creek and out on hiking trails for most of the morning.

When Arthur failed to return home around lunch time, Danielle grew worried and could not shake the feeling that Arthur had possibly met some terrible fate. In all the years they had been married, Arthur had never diverted from his course or altered his trail.

He had never arrived home late on any given day and when Danielle waited a half an hour longer, she quickly bundled Holly into her car seat, before she set out on the trail he would religiously follow.

It couldn’t have been more than a mile from their home, when Daniella spotted his bicycle peek out from a ditch slightly off the road. She grew overwhelmingly anxious when she pulled up at the scene and was horrified to find Arthur trapped in a ditch, unconscious and bleeding from a wound on his head.

She was almost hysterical when she tensely flagged down a motorist who dialed for an ambulance as Danielle frantically tried to revive him.

It was too late. The coroner estimated his time of death as almost an hour before their arrival, and assured Danielle that she had done all that she possibly could, but that there was nothing that could be done for him.

There was evidence that he was involved in a hit and run accident, but they were never able to identify the vehicle responsible.

Daniella was shattered by Arthur’s sudden and untimely death, and even though he had left them financially well taken care of, she struggled enormously to raise Holly without him.

Danielle adored Holly and devoted herself to the little girl who would grow up without a farther.

She had no desire to bring another man into the home she once shared with Arthur and she ended up living out the rest of her days fiercely protective of and dedicated to Holly.

As she focused on raising Holly, there just never seemed to be room for anyone else in Danielle’s life.

Holly was a short few months away from graduating from college, when she walked into her mother’s bedroom early one morning.

She found it odd and uncharacteristic of Danielle to sleep in and when she had not yet made their morning coffee, she went to check in on her mother.

Holly was horrified and in a state of shock to discover Danielle’s lifeless body. She was devastated that Danielle had passed away in her sleep during the night, with no prior indication of poor health or any other evidence to indicate that Danielle’s life was about to come to an abrupt end.

Holly was equally distressed to learn of the autopsy results, wherein her cause of death was confirmed to have been nothing more than a failing heart. It made no sense to her, and when Holly reflected on the days leading up to her mother’s death, there was again, no warning, nothing at all to indicate that Danielle was unwell or that she would simply go to sleep, and never wake up again.

Holly was convinced that her mother had lived out her days, pining for Arthur, and by the time Holly reached the age of twenty-two, she was sure that Danielle had died of a broken heart.

When Holly inherited the home Arthur once bought Danielle, she was too shaken and too emotionally spent to live a day longer in her childhood home without her mother.

The home her father had proudly presented Danielle and brought Holly home too. Overcome by sadness of having lost both her parents, Holly did not hesitate to place their house on the market.

Before the first thirty days were over, Claire Swanson had sold the house on behalf of Holly to a young couple about to start their very own family.

Holly used the proceeds of the sale to convert a loft in the apartment Mark had bought only weeks earlier, into a studio where she could work from home.

Adam had hinted on numerous occasions that Holly and Mark take him on as a roommate, but Holly would in no way at all, entertain the idea.

Adam’s anger and resentment towards Holly mounted with each passing day, and when Mark wasn’t around, he would glare at her with what seemed like pure hatred to Holly.

She was convinced that she could see the invisible daggers that his eyes were shooting at her, each time Adam would stare.

Get Your Copy Here (paperback)

Pre-Order Your eBook Here

 

The Bookstore Series – Passage Of Time

~ First Chapter ~

She cast down her eyes and bowed her head just as her legs became shaky underneath her. Sarah was convinced that the ground beneath her feet were cruelly giving way below her before she fell to her knees and collapsed onto the ground.

She was thoroughly vanquished by the grief that had begun as subtle waves, before it created a continuous ripple and began drowning her. She was wholly defeated and effectively beleaguered by the unanticipated devastation she had come home to, only a few short hours ago.

She unabashedly allowed her tears to gush from her eyes before she wrapped her arms around her stomach and made no apology for falling apart in such a public place. She was overwhelmed and frazzled by the severe pain she was exposed to; a torment that struck into the inner core of her soul.

As she gasped for the breaths that were beginning to evade her, she was sure that her heart was being mercilessly ripped out from inside of her, and when the pain turned physical, she was certain that her lungs were being ruthlessly crushed by two strong, invisible and malicious hands.

 

Her breathing had become an automated fight for survival, as she clung to each breath she managed to inhale, when her entire body began to shudder violently.

“Danny!”

She shouted out through the last of the gasping breaths she was only just able to muster up.

The tears had begun to inexorably flood her face, and when she looked up one more time, she knew that what she had seen written in stone only a moment ago, was something she had never expected to see. It was something she could never have anticipated coming home to someday.

The name that was so coldly written in stone was a name she could in no way at all, accept as his name and ultimately, his destiny.

It could not have been what fate had in store for her; it could not be so cruel and heartless.

As she waged an inner battle with her heart and her soul, she closed her eyes and cursed the universe for plunging her into a limitless well that was spilling over with severe misery and acute agony.

She was flung into a kind of despair, she had never known before; one she could not predict or see coming as she reflected on her childhood.

 

The affirmation that was staring back at her, of what she could hardly abide to be true, was imprinted in a boulder right in front of the eyes. A confirmation that had not quite yet reached her soul, but that was callously blinding her eyes by the tempest that had begun to surge inside of them.

As she desperately scrutinized the gravestone in absolute incredulity and downright horror, she damned to hell all that was revealed to her only a few short breaths ago.

She condemned the haunting words that were engraved on that tomb stone into a kind of hell that she had only just been introduced to, and unwillingly became acquainted with; one that had heartlessly paralyzed and wholly shattered her heart into a million fragmented shards.

It was a kind of anguish she had never known before, or could barely imagine she could feel, and walk away from, leaving her heart intact.

It had pitilessly spilled over from her heart, and into the very center of the innermost core of her. It had crept up on her like a dormant parasite, and physically debilitated her when she least expected it. It consumed her from the inside out, until she could no longer identify or distinguish between any part of her body that had escaped the severe, brutal and immobilizing torture.

 

She rubbed ferociously at the tears that were continuously blinding her, as she frantically tried to unclutter her face that had begun to disappear and hide behind her wild and unruly hair.

She took in a deep breath, desperate to swallow back on a callous, yet narrowing lump in her throat, as she slowly read the words that were to be eternally engraved on the tomb stone in front of her.

She read it out softly repeatedly, as she frantically pleaded with her eyes to deceive her, if only just once. Just once, she wanted to let out a sigh of relief that what she had seen was all one enormous mistake and breathe without restraint.

Just once, she wanted to close her eyes as she shut off the murky puddles of salty tears that were spilling from her eyes, and onto her face.

Just once, she wanted to laugh out loud, and lightheartedly criticize her eyes for misleading her.

But, each time she read his name out loud, she was harshly reminded of his leaving.

The date was there, right in front of her, and it was viciously taunting her.

 

 

The permanent imprints before her, verified the fact that Daniel Kingsley had left their world, and exchanged it for another, only a few short months ago.

Two dates were imprinted on that very stone; one to indicate a beginning of a man she would love for the remainder of her life, and another to bring her to her knees, and rip a part of her away with him.

She was not prepared to walk into Hazel Creek’s only cemetery and find him lying in the ground beneath her.

Her heart was not yet ready to understand, and it was in no way at all, equipped to let him go.

It was an end date that showed to her, a moment in time that simply stopped a once beating heart.

A heart she had clung to and yearned for, for almost all her life.

A heart she was so sure, would continue to beat for her, as it waited for her to come home.

A date that signified a day where his world had ended, and her love simply ceased to exist, almost as though he never was.

A heart that did not need her permission to die, and certainly did not ask for her approval.

 

 

His heart, Daniel’s heart had died, and left hers behind, battered and bruised, and to carry on beating without him.

If not for the date impressed on the exact same stone that reminded her that his heart had in fact, begun beating for the very first time almost a lifetime ago, she could swear that that same stone was horrifically taunting her, and cruelly cleaving at the splintered pieces of her already shattered heart.

 

“Daniel Kingsley 18/5/1966 – 21/3/2000”

 

She was too late. Sarah Swanson had returned home almost eleven months too late. She was a lifetime apart and a universe removed from the only man that once made sense to her own thumping heart.

She lay her head down on his grave and pulled her knees up to her chin, before she gently rocked herself back and forth. She cried out in anguish when the pain became almost too much to endure.

“Danny … don’t leave me here without you …”

She closed her eyes and could clearly see the haunting vision of his eyes, looking back at her.

 

She had safely kept the image of him burnt in her mind and scorched in her heart from the moment she had left him behind.

She folded her arms around her legs and sobbed fiercely as she lay on the final resting place of the man she had loved for entire life.

The man she had promised to return to once she had found her own worth. Once she had found a reason to justify his love for her; a validation she so desperately sought. She had made a decision to someday, come home to him, deserving of his love.

The man she had pleaded with to wait for her, while she built a diamond-studded ladder to the stars and stepped on everyone.

The man she had adored with every single beat of her now aching heart.

The man that she thought was larger than her, larger than any functioning human being; larger than life.

The man she was so sure would never leave her. The man she never once considered, could die.

“Give him back to me …”

She pleaded desperately, as she lay sobbing on the ground that had coldly separated her from him.

 

Get your copy of The Bookstore – Passage of Time

Passage Of Time (eBook)

Passage Of Time – Paperback

The Gold Shelf – Words Matter Publishing

The Grand Opening of The Words Matter Publishing Gold Shelf at Ten Pin Antique Mall in Carlyle, Illinois on 19th May 2018.

Our beautiful CEO of Words Matter Publishing, Tammy Koelling!

The Gold Shelf

The stunning Deb Obermeier (left) and Kathy Mitrano (right)

~ Remembering My Sister ~

“Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other.” – Carol Saline

There is no better gift in this world, than a sister. From the moment she is born, your best friend has just made an appearance into your world. She will become a part of your life, and all that you will someday, become. Sisters are little extensions of you; they are the friends you know will never leave.

Today, six years ago, my sister passed away suddenly. We were not related by blood, rather by marriage. She came into my life a few months before my eighteenth birthday, and from our very first meeting, I felt as though my soul had been looking for hers almost all my life.

I can honestly say that when she died, I was shocked, overwhelmed and crushed. It was too sudden. There was nothing to indicate to me, or to anyone else that she was about to leave us, and this world behind. There was no goodbye. There was nothing; nothing at all. I remember going through the next few days as though I was surrounded by a foggy mist. I never thought she could die. I never thought that anything could take her away from us. I was angry, I was heartbroken and I just couldn’t understand. As I tried to make sense of it all, I became angrier and I became bitter.

It was not right. Not her. She can’t die. She was not the dying type. She was so big in my world, how could she have died? She was never supposed to die. She was my sister, my best friend. She was a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister and a best friend. She had no right to die. She had no business to leave us, just like that and without any warning.

And finally, when the reality slowly set in, I became sad. I began to focus on all that I had lost. I became sadder. I had lost the only person I could share my deepest, darkest secrets and thoughts with. I had lost the one person who understood me completely; the one person I never needed to explain myself to. I had lost a connection; one I could never have with either of my genetically related sisters. I would go through days where I could barely get out of bed, and then I would go through days where I would berate her for leaving us. As I was trying to make sense of all the unexpected emotions that were raging inside of me, I began thinking that perhaps, if we could figure out why, then maybe she could come back. I was sure that, that was all we needed to do.

It never happened that way. In the end, she was gone and she would stay gone.

When enough time had passed, I began to remember the times we spent together. The chaos we would create together. The memories we made together. The joy of having one another during the years we were given with each other.

I began to focus on all that I had gained, instead of all I had lost.

I had family. She took me in, and made me her sister. She loved me. I was important to her, and I mattered.

She taught me that family is who you choose and that DNA will never dictate who you are, or who you become.

I learnt that love comes from somewhere deep inside of you, and that being related by blood, is no guarantee of love.

I gained many years of complete and utter joy, because of her. I gained a best friend who was ready to take on the world with me.

I gained a warrior, a protector and a defender.

I won’t lose that. Just because she has stepped out, and into another world, does not take that away from me. I have the memories of a beautiful friendship and a wonderful, beautiful sister who came into my life at a time I needed it more than anything or anyone in this universe. And … when days are grim and look bleak … I think of her, and I wonder what she would do, or what she would say. Her presence remains and often scolds me, still.

She taught me how short life is. And not because everyone says it’s short; IT IS SHORT. Life is not a guarantee, it is simply a journey. It can change in the blink of an eye. We cannot cheat death, and we cannot alter our destiny.

We must learn to love those who serve us well, and let go of those who don’t.

I will miss her, each day of my life, but my sister, she will always be.

Life … is only one door. We can walk out at any time, and into our next. We don’t know when our last day is, but more importantly, we don’t know when our loved ones’ last day would be. Treasure them and cherish each moment.

From the moment we are born, our countdown to our next world begins.

You are here now. This is your world now. Live it. Love. And love some more.

 

Mother, How Are You Today?

Mothers are disguised queens, who wear invisible crowns on their tired heads. Sometimes, they sparkle with diamonds, gold and glitter. Other times, they carry thorns.

She is the keeper, protector and defender of your heart; she is the mender of your broken one.

She sees something that is worth believing in, long before you do.

She is not the one that has never struggled. She’s the one that has never given up, despite her exhaustive struggles.

She has had to learn about strengths she never knew she had, as she fought fears she never knew she could.

She fails often, she cries in silence, and she prays endlessly. Despite all the challenges she faces each day, she still comes home to love you, for no reason at all.

She lives an entire life you know nothing of, and she fights demons you never will know she’s had.

She watches you sleep, and she prays to do better for you, the next day.

She has lived through your tantrums, your milestones and your fears.

She has lost sleep, she has comforted you during nightmares, and she leaves you that last piece of cake, every single time.

She is mentally and physically exhausted, yet, you are never a burden.

She watches you grow, she watches you change and she watches as you become the very best version of yourself, after she has painfully sat through your very worst.

She hears you make plans, and she sees you dream.

She guides even when you are certain you don’t need it, and she teaches you when you think you aren’t listening.

Then she stands back, and watches you leave.

From a distance, she keeps an eye on you as you follow your dreams, and discover your wonderful.

She sees you fall in love, she lets you go on your wedding day, and she watches as you become a mother or a father for the very first time.

She thinks of you each day, and she continues to pray for you with each breath.

You may no longer need her, but her heart still needs yours so.

 

So today, on Mother’s Day, raise your glass to her, and perhaps, raise your standards a little. She is the only one who will be standing, when everything else falls apart. She will be right behind you, beside you or in front of you, wherever you need her to be, and when everyone else leaves.

She is your mother … the only person who will love you for the rest of her life, for no reason at all.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there in the world!

Today, I raise my glass to you, as I try to raise my standards for you!

 

 

She Turned The Lights Off … One By One

She wrote him a note on a day much like any other day before that. She nervously slipped it in underneath the door of the boy who had lived next door to her for almost all of her life. With her trembling hands, she wrote him that she’d grow up soon, and she asked him to wait for her, until she does. She said that she was a little shy, but that she was sure he was the boy she would love for the rest of her life. She told him that she was saving her heart just for him, and she signed the letter with love, from the girl next door.

He smiled when he read her note, and after he read it one more time, he slowly made his way over to the house next door. Her tears rolled callously down her cheeks when he told her that he was leaving their little home town, and that he just couldn’t wait for her to grow up. He reminded her that she was only sixteen, he twenty two, and he assured her that she would forget him soon. As he turned to leave, he told her to leave a light on for him, perhaps he would have one more last chance someday, maybe when she had grown up and perhaps, if his heart brought him home to her.

It was on the day he left that she turned the front porch light on. She wrote him a letter and told him that she was turning the back-light on too, she would hate for him to get lost, if he ever wanted to return to her. As the years slowly passed by, every light in her house was turned on, one by one. She was afraid that he might get lost while looking for her, and she wrote him to tell him that her backyard was as bright as the crack of dawn, and the front of her house looked as though it had runway lights. She told him that it looked like noon in the dead of night just for him, if ever he decided he was tired of being gone from her. She signed her letters with love, from the girl next door.

As he lay in bed on a cold, winter’s night, he re-read her letters and with a pounding heart, he understood for the first time, how her words and promises were haunting his memory of her. He wondered if her porch light was still burning as he climbed out of bed and packed his bags to catch the first flight out and back to the house next door.

But, in the days before he would return, one by one, she began turning the lights off. First, when she met another for their first date, she turned off a bright light she had kept burning, inside of her house. When her new love stayed over for the first time, she turned off another bright light. When she said yes to her new forever, she smiled sadly as she turned off the light in the backyard. When he placed a ring on her finger, she turned off one more light and when he carried her over the threshold, she finally turned off the last of her burning lights, the light on the porch that would show him his way back to her.

He hurriedly ran all the way to the house next door, and as he stood in front of her house, he was just in time to notice her turning off the last of the lights she had sworn to keep burning for him. He wanted one more last chance as he frantically knocked on her front door. His tears rolled indignantly from his eyes when he heard that her name was not like it was before. She told him that his one more last chance had ended that very day, and that he had been gone for too long, she just couldn’t wait for him. She told him that he had been gone for ten years, but just as he once swore to her, she promised him that he would forget her soon. She told him that she had pledged herself to another, and that she had turned the lights off, one by one.

 

What He Should Have Told Her

He told her that their thoughts were trapped, and forever lost in their once childhood dreams. He said that the years in between had stolen their promises, and distorted the way his heart once sought hers out. He just couldn’t wait anymore; he had stopped dreaming of her a few years back. He said that he had found someone new, and he hoarsely whispered that she was more like him. His heart had simply forgotten hers, and it was not her fault. He said that perhaps too much time had passed, and too much distance had turned them into strangers to one another. He reminded her of their foolish promises on a playground that no longer appealed to him, and that he could barely remember what they once swore to each other. He told her that they were merely the dreams of two innocent, foolish, starry-eyed, unwise and stupid children whose journeys had taken them away from one another, as was always an inevitable part of the Universe’s divine plan. He asked her not to call him again, and he begged her to forget their so-called love, and carry on as though he never was, and they never were. He said that she should see the world and chase her dreams, without him. She should go in search of a love that would have to love her more than she could ever love him. He wanted her to settle in the little white house on the hill she had dreamed of as a child, where she would sit by a window, and dream of naming her babies. He told her to forget him, just as he had forgotten her a long time ago.

But, what he should have told her was, that the breaths he was taking in this world was fast running out, and that his new breaths would soon begin in a whole other world. One he didn’t quite understand, and one he feared almost as much as losing her. He should have said that he could not bear to have her see him like this, and that he had never wanted to utter unkind words to her, or break his promise, or her heart. Even if he had whispered it, he should have told her that his days were being counted, while hers would carry on long after he had left. He never told her of his long fight, or how hard and bravely he fought just to be right there for her when she finally returned home to him. What he should have told her was that he had waited for her, and how ironically it had turned out that he had waited for her for his entire life.

He never meant to say goodbye with what seemed to be with no feeling at all; he never meant to betray the promises he clearly could remember, and once swore to her. He just could not give her a better reason for living his lie. He didn’t want to tell her about how he was painfully living their memories of so long ago, while he waited for the day his eyes would close one last time. He never wanted her to know what he already knew; that his fight was for nothing and that he was tired. He was exhausted, and he was in pain. Even though he was never any good at playing it tough, it was their beautiful moments that he found his courage in. What he should have told her was that while he was living in his own little world; one she would never know of, she would forever be the one that his heart would recognize. What he should have told her was that she should listen more closely and hear what he isn’t saying, as he tells her how he no longer loves her, and that he perhaps never did. That when the rain begins to fall, it was her he would stop to remember for a moment longer than he should. He should have told her how he wears his pain like a heavy coat around him, and that it is her face he sees, her smile he finds, and her eyes he searches for in everyone else.

What he should have told her was that he was about to die too young, and that death was about to steal all the remaining pages from their chapter, in a book that began almost thirty years ago. What he should have told her was that their story was really only about to begin, and that he would love her from the other side of the stars, especially when he hears her laughing in the rain, or as she has her arms around another, or while she cradles her child in her arms. What he should have told her was that even though she pledged her heart to him a long time ago, she would be all right without him, because he would watch her, hold her, love her and miss her, from the other side.

BOOK RELEASES: Molly And The Weeping Prince

I am so excited to announce the release of Molly, today 12th March 2018! I would like to take this opportunity to thank Tammy Koelling and her Team from Words Matter Publishing for this beautiful book, and all the hard work that they have put into bringing Molly to me and to you.

You can get your eBook or Paperback right here : Molly

Synopsis:

Seventeen-year-old Molly was relentless when she pleaded and begged her father to let her stay behind in the village she grew up in, after James Starkey was tasked with the grim decision of moving his family away from the only home they had ever know, and out to the city.

Molly was terrified of leaving Ryan behind. She could barely shake the overwhelming and tormenting fear that things between them, were about to change forever.

After their first holiday together months later, Molly was devastated to return to her parents, bringing horrendous and shocking tragedy with her.

James was crushed by Ryan and Molly’s carelessness, and in a moment of anger, he demanded that she never see Ryan again. Molly’s hopelessness and rage turned to instant hatred for the father she once adored.

James was beleaguered by feelings of guilt as he watched his daughter pine for the boy she had left behind; the boy he had forced her to say goodbye to, and in the process, he made her question all that she had ever believed in. Would he ever forgive himself for the haunting choices he made on her behalf?

When Molly finally made the journey back to the town she once adored, she was shocked to discover that the man he had become, was nothing like the boy she had once left behind. Even though her heart longed for him, he had become a stranger to her. She was horrified by his unanticipated anger and surprising hatred towards her when he learnt of Molly’s disturbing betrayal.

Will Molly and Ryan’s one night together make way for a whole new world of distressing aftermaths? Will Ryan ultimately forgive her, and can he stop her from making the same mistake again? Will Molly finally find peace in all that once destroyed her, and can she ever forgive James for turning his back on her when she needed him the most?

I am just as excited to announce the launch of The Weeping Prince on Friday, 9th March 2018! It has been such an exciting weekend of releases for me! For the release of The Weeping Prince, I would like to thank Christopher Austin and his team at Titan InKorp for another beautiful book, and an amazing release day!

You can get your copy right here : The Weeping Prince

Synopsis:

Scarlett Rose was seventeen, and the only daughter of Joe Horak, the well-known and well-respected Pastor of Carmel, and his wife Lily.

From the moment Scarlett Rose met Blade Bannister, she was no longer the quiet, disciplined young girl that was raised under Pastor Joe’s strict, and often unrealistic rules.

She rebelled against her father and she rebelled against her Church. She fearlessly questioned him and his religion. Blade Bannister was everything her father hated.

Scarlett Rose fell for the boy from the wrong side of the tracks whose broken and shattered family had been at war with the Horaks for centuries.

Join Scarlett Rose as she discovers the truth about her Weeping Prince, and the mortal sin Pastor Joe was frantic to hide.

 

 

The Prayer In The Red Balloon

She held onto the string that carefully secured and tied the red balloon she had slipped a note into only moments before she had filled it with kisses of air and hugs of love. A gentle breeze had begun to blow when she looked up into the overcast, cloudy sky. She waited for the sun to set just a little more, and she waited for a gust of wind to sweep in just as the sun was about to say goodnight. Her timing had to be flawless. Her prayer in the red balloon was important.

As the wind began howling around her, she smiled up at the balloon before she released it into the almost dark skies. She prayed that it would reach Heaven safely as it begun its journey of a thousand tears. She watched it go higher and higher, until she could no longer see her red balloon, and the heart it was carrying. She closed her eyes, and asked God to keep a lookout for a delivery, for the man she was sending a prayer and a million hugs to.

In her note, she asked God to tell him that she could never have known that their last night would be their last walk in the rain. She said that if only she had known, she’d keep him out in the storm for a few hours more, while she held his hand tighter as though it was a life line to his heart. She said that if only she had known she would never hear his voice again, she’d listen more attentively to each word he had ever said to her. She told Him that lately, on the loneliest of nights, she hears him, and she keeps his voice and his words alive in her mind.

She asked God to tell him that he was her greatest treasure and that she now sees how he so passionately loved her. As a tear fell onto her prayer, she told God that she never thought he would leave. She never thought he would swap their world for Heaven, but that she was sure he’d always be there, with her, and until the end of time. She asked God to tell him how sorry she was that she had turned her head for just a moment, before he quietly and unexpectedly, slipped away into the next world.

She said that if only she had known that it would be her last night by his side, she would plead and beg to stop the morning light and rather, linger in the darkness with him forever. She would give up on the sun, the birds and the beauty of her days, to live with him in one long night until she could leave with him. She said that all she wanted was to see was his smile and pay closer attention to how he used to look into her eyes. She missed him in the mornings, and by the time the stars were out at night, the ache in her heart would debilitate and cripple her.

Before signing off her prayer, she told Gold how she prays He will give her love the red balloon, but that He be careful when He opens it. She said she tried to fit in all the hugs and all the kisses she had missed in the days that followed his leaving, and those she would miss in the days that were to come. She said that she was not yet ready to say goodbye, and that there were still so many things she wished she had told him. She said that it was hard to hold back the tears, when she thought of the precious years she had spent in bliss with him. The same tears that would silence her when she thought of the years to come that she would spend without him.

She wrote that there was nothing in the world she wouldn’t give, just to see his face and hold his hand, even only one more time. She asked God if they could spend just one more day together, even though it was against the rules. She said that her life would just never be the same, and she needed just a little more time. She told God that she needed to catch her breath, and lift the weight from her heart, even for just a moment. She said that if He could just look into her heart, and see how broken it was, He might consider giving her five more minutes with him. She promised Him that she would tell nobody, and that no-one would see. Just this once. Just for her. Just to survive. Just to feel something other than excruciating soul and heartbreak. She told Him that her soul was in so much pain, and that breathing hurt with each breath she took. She said that she was struggling to pick up the pieces, and she asked God to show her, and teach her how to live out the rest of her life, without him, because she didn’t want to.

She wondered for a moment whether he was ready to leave, and whether he was ready to let her go. She wondered if he had perhaps, negotiated with God as she had. She wondered for just a moment, if the stars hadn’t perhaps, made a mistake. She wanted to ask God to check his paperwork, perhaps an Angel had gotten the address, and the name wrong. Perhaps it was as simple as their clock that was set wrong, and perhaps, their timing was just totally off. She wanted to know the name of the Angel that so carelessly and mercilessly destroyed her heart, and she wanted to ask God to check, because it just could not be. It had to be a mistake. It had to be the wrong soul. It had to be the wrong time. Was the Angel perhaps there for the previous tenant? There was no prior warning, no indication and nothing to say that an Angel was on his way to their home. There was not enough time. She needed more time. She needed him to have more time. Her heart needed more of him. Her soul needed his. For more. For longer. She wanted to whisper in God’s ear that if it was a mistake, she would never tell anyone if He would just bring her love back to her. She wouldn’t tell a soul, and she would never say a word. As though it had never happened, she would simply live out the rest of her days quietly with him.

Instead, she asked God again to carefully open the red balloon, and hand her shattered heart over to her love, because she knows His Angels follow His plans flawlessly.

For Her Broken Heart

She could hardly pin-point how they got to where they were. There were no angry words, and there were no moments of uncomfortable or awkward silences. There were no mysterious late nights, and there was no tell-tale lipstick on his collar or hidden love letters in his pockets. Yet, there they were, carrying boxes down the hall and out to his truck, while carefully loading them one by one. There was nothing much to say about anything. There was nothing at all to understand where it all went wrong and how it all began. Like old friends, they said a final goodbye to each other, and as he drove away, she loitered for just a moment longer as she watched his tail lights disappear into the night.

She reluctantly walked back inside, and rushed into their bedroom. She stared at the big, lonely bed and she gazed into his now empty closet. She took his pillow and held it against her. She stood still, as she smelled him into her soul, afraid that not too far from that very moment, she might forget the odor of his skin. She placed his pillow back on their bed, before she walked out and laid down on her couch instead. As she had done on so many nights before, she prayed for him and she prayed for her. She prayed for their “them.” She was not quite sure how her life would go on without him, and she feared her meetings with her mornings. She couldn’t even be sure that she’d survive the stormy, untaught nights without him. She laid quietly as she listened to the cars that continued to mow down the streets. She hears the friendly, habitual chatter of her neighbors. In the distance, children are squealing and dogs are barking, just as they always do. “It was true,” she whispered through the tears that had begun to roll carelessly from her eyes, “The world did not stop for my broken heart.”

She glanced over at the clock against the wall, and was disappointed that it had continued to tick. She could not quite figure out how it had not lost even a second, and how perfectly set it had remained. If it had told her that it was ten minutes earlier, or five minutes later, she would know that the grand-master of time had felt it too, and that it had been affected by her broken heart just as much. She felt betrayed by her clock, and she felt annoyance for the world who was supposed to become immobile for just for a moment, and commiserate with her broken heart. She listened to a song that was softly playing on a radio in the background. She wondered how it couldn’t sense her immense soreness. She wanted to take it into her hands and hurl it against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces. How dare it continue playing sweet love songs, and mislead one more heart as it makes empty promises of love. As she tried to put her scattered thoughts in place, she cried herself to sleep.

She awoke before dawn with red and distended eyes. She was sure that she was hung-over from the effects of her broken heart. With all the strength she could gather, she turned off the radio and stumbled over to her coffee pot. She poured herself a quick cup, and as she stood staring blankly out in front of her, she realized once more, that a cup of coffee alone, was one of the many firsts she would have to face  in her world, without him. She thought about how much smaller her laundry basket would be, and how dinner for one would be nothing more than a frozen meal, without him.

For, her broken heart had turned into just another number, in a world polluted with lost loves. For her broken heart, the world did not stop, and the universe refused to apologize. For her broken heart, people will not speak kinder words or tread gentler around her. For her broken heart, the trees will not keep their leaves in autumn, and the flowers will not continue to blossom in winter. For her broken heart, the earth would not move slightly off his axis, and the stars would not conjure up a new plan for her life, and bring her lost love back to her. Just for the survival of her broken heart, he won’t be coming home, and he won’t be putting all her crushed pieces back together.