Robin E. Mason's Blog: Robin's Book Shelf, page 145
January 29, 2018
BLOGWORDS – Tuesday 30 January 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE SILENT SONG OF WINTER RELEASE – COVER REVEAL DAY THREE
https://www.singinglibrarianbooks.com/
SPECIAL EDITION – THE SILENT SONG OF WINTER RELEASE – COVER REVEAL DAY THREE
Cover reveal Saturday 3 February.
When all the noise has gone silent, all that is left is her song.
The southern town of Saisons lies at the crossroads between North and South, progressive and genteel antebellum life. Between East and West, between history and heritage, and new frontiers. Downton Abbey meets Gone With the Wind.
It’s 1912, in a world where slavery is dying and women’s rights are rising, and four young women who once shared a bond—and experienced a tragedy—question their own truths.
Pearl had lived under the impossible taskmaster of perfection. Nothing she does or ever did pleased her mother. And nothing she ever did could disappoint her father.
Caught up in the mystery of her friend’s curious—and secretive—return, Pearl wrestles with her own decisions, and flees lest her own secrets are exposed.
#Blogwords, Special Edition, The Silent Song of Winter, Seasons Book 3, Cover Reveal Day Three
BLOGWORDS – Monday 29 January 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
[image error]
SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
“Simone’s willow green eyes were searching, not weeping. She’d heard that name before. But where? When? Memory fragments rattled, whispered. She strained to listen, to piece the jumble together. But the puzzle that was her memory was still missing so many pieces.
And Mercedes Renaldi was one of those pieces.”
Started with 41 [GO BACKS] and got ‘em done Saturday! Spent time typing up my MYRIAD notes and then on to the READ THROUGH! #TheSilentSongofWinter #February2018
marketing for #TheLongShadowsofSummer – a few…
marketing for #TheTiltingLeavesofAutumn – here and there
finishing #TheSilentSongofWinter – DONE…..
start #TheWhisperingWindsofSpring – l’il bit…
AND…
#TheSilentSongofWinter
read through, revisions and edits – next up
beta readers revisions and edits – in their hands
[GO BACKS] – check
format for CreateSpace – soon!
and… ORDER COPIES!!!
Are ya’ll ready for the COVER REVEAL for #TheSilentSongofWinter??? Saturday the 3rd!
#Seasons, #authorlife #ammarketing #amediting #amwriting #amresearching #amjuggling, #myheadisspinning
I love how these stories are overlapping and intertwining, each new one going back to the previous ones, and tying them all together! Can’t wait to get to Simone’s story—The Whispering Winds of Spring! #May2018
“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”
https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/
https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason
“the battle for identity, one story at a time”
#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemJanWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Winds of Spring
January 28, 2018
BLOGWORDS – Monday 29 January 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE SILENT SONG OF WINTER RELEASE – COVER REVEAL DAY TWO
https://www.singinglibrarianbooks.com/
SPECIAL EDITION – THE SILENT SONG OF WINTER RELEASE – COVER REVEAL DAY TWO
Cover reveal Saturday 3 February.
When all the noise has gone silent, all that is left is her song.
The southern town of Saisons lies at the crossroads between North and South, progressive and genteel antebellum life. Between East and West, between history and heritage, and new frontiers. Downton Abbey meets Gone With the Wind.
It’s 1912, in a world where slavery is dying and women’s rights are rising, and four young women who once shared a bond—and experienced a tragedy—question their own truths.
Pearl had lived under the impossible taskmaster of perfection. Nothing she does or ever did pleased her mother. And nothing she ever did could disappoint her father.
Caught up in the mystery of her friend’s curious—and secretive—return, Pearl wrestles with her own decisions, and flees lest her own secrets are exposed.
#Blogwords, Special Edition, The Silent Song of Winter, Seasons Book 3, Cover Reveal Day Two
January 27, 2018
BLOGWORDS – Sunday 28 January 2018 – FRONT PORCH FELLOWSHIP – ALL CREATION WORSHIPS
[image error]
FRONT PORCH FELLOWSHIP – ALL CREATION WORSHIPS
Several years ago I was walking around a small lake. It’s a favorite spot, and I take the walk whenever I visit there.
This particular time I had been listening to a certain praise and worship CD, and one of the songs was playing in my head.
As those words sang in my mind, my eyes looked up at the trees—and I wondered (as all good authors do) “How does a tree worship God.”
I had thought it an idle thought. Until He answered me.
So simple and yet so profound.
And as all good writers also do, my mind took it another step.
Of course I knew the answer, even then.
And with an algebraic turn, or perhaps putting the pieces in a puzzle, that meant that I worship Father by writing.
So today (Saturday) as I was sitting outside, basking in a miracle moment today, and praising Father for this long awaited thing, I glanced at the trees.
And I was reminded of what He told me those years ago—to worship Him, I be what He created me to be.
*note the use of “be” vs “do.”
So, and pardon the license with grammar, but I be writing. I be working—and worshiping Him—as I write.
And that brings me even greater joy.
Wha about you? What has Father created you to be? What do you do to worship Him?
#Blogwords, Front Porch Fellowship, #FPF, Sunday Devotion, All Creation Worships
Save
BLOGWORDS – Saturday 27 January 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
[image error]
SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
[image error]
“Simone’s willow green eyes were searching, not weeping. She’d heard that name before. But where? When? Memory fragments rattled, whispered. She strained to listen, to piece the jumble together. But the puzzle that was her memory was still missing so many pieces.
And Mercedes Renaldi was one of those pieces.”
Started with 41 [GO BACKS] and got ‘em done today! Typing up my notes and then
on to the READ THROUGH! #TheSilentSongofWinter #February2018
I love how these stories are overlapping and intertwining, each new one going back to the previous ones, and tying them all together! Finally, finally get to tell Simone’s story—The Whispering Winds of Spring! #May2018
marketing for #TheLongShadowsofSummer – a few…
marketing for #TheTiltingLeavesofAutumn – here and there
finishing #TheSilentSongofWinter – DONE…..
start #TheWhisperingWindsofSpring – l’il bit…
AND…
#TheSilentSongofWinter
read through, revisions and edits – next up
beta readers revisions and edits – in their hands
[GO BACKS] – check
format for CreateSpace – soon!
and… ORDER COPIES!!!
Are ya’ll ready for the COVER REVEAL for #TheSilentSongofWinter??? next week on the 3rd!
#Seasons, #authorlife #ammarketing #amediting #amwriting #amresearching #amjuggling, #myheadisspinning
“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”
https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/
https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason
“the battle for identity, one story at a time”
#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemJanWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Winds of Spring
January 26, 2018
BLOGWORDS – Saturday 27 January 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE SILENT SONG OF WINTER RELEASE – COVER REVEAL DAY ONE
https://www.singinglibrarianbooks.com/
SPECIAL EDITION – THE SILENT SONG OF WINTER RELEASE – COVER REVEAL DAY ONE
Cover reveal Saturday 3 February.
When all the noise has gone silent, all that is left is her song.
The southern town of Saisons lies at the crossroads between North and South, progressive and genteel antebellum life. Between East and West, between history and heritage, and new frontiers. Downton Abbey meets Gone With the Wind.
It’s 1912, in a world where slavery is dying and women’s rights are rising, and four young women who once shared a bond—and experienced a tragedy—question their own truths.
Pearl had lived under the impossible taskmaster of perfection. Nothing she does or ever did pleased her mother. And nothing she ever did could disappoint her father.
Caught up in the mystery of her friend’s curious—and secretive—return, Pearl wrestles with her own decisions, and flees lest her own secrets are exposed.
#Blogwords, Special Edition, The Silent Song of Winter, Seasons Book 3, Cover Reveal Day One
BLOGWORDS – Friday 26 January 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
[image error]
SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
“Simone’s willow green eyes were searching, not weeping. She’d heard that name before. But where? When? Memory fragments rattled, whispered. She strained to listen, to piece the jumble together. But the puzzle that was her memory was still missing so many pieces.
And Mercedes Renaldi was one of those pieces.”
Started with 41 [GO BACKS], down to the last 3, although technically 2 ‘cause one appears twice, and the other’n is related! Then on to the READ THROUGH! #TheSilentSongofWinter #February2018
I love how these stories are overlapping and intertwining, each new one going back to the previous ones, and tying them all together! Can’t wait to get to Simone’s story—The Whispering Winds of Spring! #May2018
“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”
https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/
https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason
“the battle for identity, one story at a time”
#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemJanWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Winds of Spring
January 25, 2018
BLOGWORDS – Friday 26 January 2018 – FIRST LINE FRIDAY – THE AWAKENING by TAMARA LEIGH
[image error]
FIRST LINE FRIDAY – THE AWAKENING by TAMARA LEIGH
Welcome to First Line Fridays, hosted by Hoarding Books!!!
Tell us your first line in the comments & then head over to Hoarding Books to see who else is participating!
THE BLURB:
FAR BETTER TO LOVE WITHOUT PROFIT…
Even if she must sell herself in marriage to the highest bidder, Lady Laura Middleton is determined to provide her daughter a home and protector. But when Queen Eleanor presents her cousin with four suitors, among them is one who believes Laura betrayed him ten years past. Despite her attempts to discourage his pursuit, he is determined to have her for the dowry needed to save his lands. Should he prevail, how is she to shield her daughter from the enemy who lurks within his walls? And what of her heart? If she reveals the truth of her betrayal, might he love her again?
…THAN LOVE NOT AND REAP BITTERNESS
Beware the Delilah, my son. Beware the Jezebel—advice Baron Lothaire Soames should have heeded as a young man. Now in need of funds, he faces marriage to the woman he lost to scandal. Though he vows to find another way to return prosperity to his lands, his former betrothed proves his only hope and he grudgingly vies to become her worthiest suitor—only to be struck by how little it takes his heart to pick up where it left off. Can he forgive what cannot be forgotten? More, will she forever yearn for the man who fathered her child?
THE FIRST LINE:
Barony of Owen, Spring 1152
“Beware the Delilah, my son. Beware the Jezebel.”
GENRE:
Christian Romance, Historical
MY THOUGHTS:
All of Tamara Leigh’s books are on my long list, nay, deep-as-the ocean TBR list.
#Blogwords, First Line Friday, #FLF, The Awakening, Tamara Leigh, Age of Faith Book 7
BLOGWORDS – Thursday 25 January 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
[image error]
SPECIAL EDITION – REMJANWRIMO
“Simone’s willow green eyes were searching, not weeping. She’d heard that name before. But where? When? Memory fragments rattled, whispered. She strained to listen, to piece the jumble together. But the puzzle that was her memory was still missing so many pieces.
And Mercedes Renaldi was one of those pieces.”
Juggling NEW WORDS in #TheWhisperingWindsofSpring and REVISIONS and [GO BACKS] for #TheSilentSongofWinter getting ready to FORMAT and UPLOAD to CREATE SPACE and ORDER COPIES to have at my RELEASE EVENT and BOOK SIGNING!
I love how these stories are overlapping and intertwining, each new one going back to the previous ones, and tying them all together! Can’t wait to get to Simone’s story—The Whispering Winds of Spring! #May2018
“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”
https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/
https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason
“the battle for identity, one story at a time”
#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemJanWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Winds of Spring
January 23, 2018
BLOGWORDS – Wednesday 24 January 2018 – WREADING WEDNESDAY – FEATURED BOOK EXCERPT – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING
WREADING WEDNESDAY – FEATURED BOOK EXCERPT – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING
Book 3 in my Seasons series, The Silent Song of Winter, releases next month, here is the first chapter of the final book in the series, The Whispering Winds of Sping
* not the final cover
COVER REVEAL Friday 11 May
My world came to an end the day I jumped off the top of Versailles.
I was not yet ten years of age; I couldn’t know what would come next. All I knew was what had happened of late—Mamá had died. And Papá had married that Lissette Fontaine.
Countless times, I had jumped into the black waters of the Edisto River. Countless times I had climbed the bank, only to jump in again.
This time, I did not climb the bank. This time, everything went as black as the water that swirled around me.
My return to Saisons had been just these eight months past. And still there were so many unanswered questions.
For certes, many of my memories had been recovered, small things, sweet remembrances. Ugly things, and horrid details. Lissette’s past, beyond her hysteria; her deceit and criminal acts, her lurid propensities.
She had died in the summer, and her death had upended my life. I had thought her ma mère, though I suspected otherwise. She had been cruel to me, and once I left her home I had thought to sever all connection to her. Until I got the notice, a note written on a scrap of paper, that she was dying.
It didn’t surprise me, nor did it grieve me. Truly, I dreaded seeing her at all, well or otherwise. She died quickly and I set to cleaning her apartment.
That was when I found her letters. Those letters had led me to Saisons, and Mercedes.
I had watched my friends, Mercedes and Pearl and Scarlett, blossom before my eyes these past months. Well, I can’t really say that about Pearl; she had left us in the fall, thinking to never return, thinking to never see us again.
Now, however, we all sat at Versailles, not so unlike how we had as girls.
“You’re looking very well, Pearl.” Mercedes and Simone and Scarlett and I were together once again. Pearl snugged her own new daughter, Bonnie, and Mercedes bounced Simmie on her knee. Simmie had nearly been born out here in the woods, right here at Versailles, just eight months ago. Scarlett and I were with child, my own babe’s arrival imminent.
“She’s right.” Scarlett agreed with Mercedes, and smiled at Pearl.
“It’s because she’s back at Saisons.” It was most logical; she never should have left. “What… ever… did…” With my own babe pressing on all my insides, breathing was an effort and I lowered myself onto the remains of the wall.
“Whatever did Lady Adélaide want with you?” Mercedes finished for me and I silently thanked her.
Pearl told us of her recent encounter with the elder woman; she held no ill will, indeed she sought only justice. She told us of the Colonel’s recent marriage; I had only ever called him Colonel though he never had been one. He had served in the Navy, and now was a detective and was known by several different names.
Scarlett was free from Fontaine, living now as a proper lady. Mercedes had discovered her own heritage, truly a lady of higher station—and wealth—than the rest of us. Not that it carried much weight in Saisons, or in America, and her servants would live free and independent lives, working for her and not owned by her.
Still, I didn’t know why Lissette had taken me, or why she had sought to escape Saisons. Still there was a great mystery and many unanswered questions of what had driven her to flee; Lissette had never known fear; indeed, she had been the one to inflict fear and chaos on all around her.
But something had happened that year, and by some great and cosmic error, I had been caught up in it.
July 1912
I gazed at the scene before me, the busy street, the bank, the post office. There was a lovely park, and it seemed to beckon me. I hesitated, though I couldn’t say why. Apprehension gripped me as surely as my hands gripped the bench beneath me. No, this was not merely apprehension. This was dread, it was sheer terror.
I saw her then, and I was sure she saw me. The face was familiar to me, but it was shrouded in my memory with so many other half and hazy memories. I chanced another glimpse at her then and I was sure a wave of confused recognition lapped over her face, too, like the ocean on the shore. Then it was gone again, washed back out to a sea of years gone by.
I stood to walk, but my feet would not move. Darting my gaze about me, I wondered if anyone would think it odd. But no, only nods of greeting and a smile or two.
I took a breath and crossed the street to stroll through the park. As I passed through the stone arch over the entry, a shiver passed over me and I paused. I again glanced about but no one was there. Only my shadow.
Proceeding down the paved pathway, I took in the early spring azaleas and tulips and daffodils, carefully planted and tended. Tulips and crocuses greeted my every step.
A growing dread also met my every step.
And yet I could not stop. I could not turn back. Everything in me seemed to scream to turn back, to stay away from the park.
But my feet continued to move, of their own volition it seemed.
And then I saw it. Across the square.
The lawn and the tree lined drive leading to the house. For as surely as it was obscured from view, I knew it was there.
And I knew I had been there.
It was a manse, large and sprawling, situated on the far side of the happy springtime park. It was dark and shadowed under its canopy of trees, its windows shuttered like half-closed eyes, peering out at me. It knew me. And I knew this house.
It was ma grand mère’s house. And I had most certainly been here before.
June 1897
I remember waking up.
“There, there, my darling.” It was dark and I couldn’t see the owner of the voice. It was strangely familiar to me, and yet… Her hands caressed my face, and wiped the water from my eyes.
“Mamá?”
“Yes, my darling.” I felt a strange sensation pass through me. “Mamá is here.”
I was wrapped in a scratchy blanket and my head ached terribly.
It was cloudy and I knew it was nighttime because I could see the hazy light of the moon. And the water. I could hear the water. Maybe the dizziness I felt was from the water.
I heard the woman—Mamá—speak again, with a strange man.
“It was too lucky for me, that she fell in that way,” I heard her say. “I figured I’d have to draw her away from that awful church they frequent so often and drag her downriver.”
I always thought no one knew about Versailles—but I didn’t know what Versailles was; was I in France? I couldn’t remember where I was.
The lady, ma mère, spoke again, saying something about my hair not being as black as hers and that didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense that she called me Lara, either, but I didn’t know why; that’s what she kept calling me, surely it must be my name. Then again, none of it made any sense.
I must have fallen asleep again; I woke up lying on the bed in a decrepit cabin.
There was no blanket or pillow even, or sheets. It wasn’t night anymore, and I thought it must be raining. But when I went to look out the window, I could tell it was sunny outside. It was the windows that were cloudy; horrid and filthy, years of grime smeared across them. And I was alone. The lady, Mamá, was nowhere about.
I sat on the bed, no more than a cot, really, and stretched, and my head started pounding again. I touched the spot, there was a great lump.
I looked for the toilet but of course there was none in the place and I was sure it had been a slave shack. But I didn’t recognize anything and I didn’t know why I was here.
The outhouse was falling down every bit as much as the shack, cracks in the wall and a door that didn’t stay closed. I surely had never been in one, shabby or otherwise, but necessity left me no option.
Nothing looked familiar to me. Cotton fields stretched behind the outhouse, a sea of green as far as I could see. There was a narrow road in front of the shack, and more cotton on the other side. I couldn’t tell where the yard ended and the road began; it was all dirt.
I sat on the step and watched and waited. But the lady—Mamá—was nowhere to be seen, and I grew bored and restless. Nothing but gray sandy dirt and cotton fields as far as I could see. Only trees that lined the horizon far in the distance.
The sun grew warmer on my back and sweat clung to my face. The plaits in my hair were frayed but I didn’t know how to reweave them; nor did I know where my brush might be. I saw an image, a silver brush on a polished dressing table. Like a mirage it hovered, just out of reach, and I wondered where it was, and where I was.
A large oak tree hung over a curve in the road, and I came to five other tiny cabins. Though not elegant or even modest, they were neat and well kept. Several children played in the yards between them.
One girl sat off to herself, a book in her hand. It looked like a primer, though the girl looked to be older than me. I could tell she labored with the reading and I wondered if she might be simple. She glanced up and caught me watching her.
I was afraid at first—I’d been around Negro children before, but something tickled at my memory that always I had known them, known who they were. But this girl, this whole place, was unfamiliar to me.
She smiled then, a bright white curve in her ebony face, and I smiled back. Glancing over her shoulder, she came to where I was by the tree.
“I is Clover,” she said.
“Clover? You mean you’re name is Clover?”
She nodded, her wiry pigtails bouncing as she did.
“My name is Lara.”
“I ain’t never seen no white girl a’fore.”
“Really?”
“Ain’t nobody never comes out here much. Only ‘cept Mr. Walden or one of his mens. They’s white enough, all right. But ain’t no chilluns never comes out ’chere.”
I don’t know why I did it but I curtsied.
“Well it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Clover.”
“You is awful fancy, Miz Lara.”
She told me she was learning to read; she had never been allowed to go to the schoolhouse with her brothers and sisters. Clover was the eldest of nine children, and she pointed out each of her siblings to me. She said her parents had been slaves until the war, and now her pappy was a sharecropper and her mammy was a nanny in the big house.
Clover asked if I had brothers and sisters, but I wasn’t sure so I said no. She asked who my mammy was and why was a white girl out in the fields with Negro children.
“I best git.” Clover smiled at me. “I gots to go make biscuits for supper.”
My tummy rumbled as I smiled at her; biscuits sounded wonderful. I didn’t know when I had last eaten—or what I had eaten. I waved and turned to go.
“Is you coming back tomorrah?”
“I’d like that very much.”
I was several paces down the road when she called after me. “I brung you this. Jelly biscuits from breakfast.”
Efforts to be polite warred with the hunger gnawing inside me. I smiled and curtsied again and mumbled ‘thanks’ before I ran back to the cabin to eat my biscuits.
July 1912
Jelly stained the biscuit now as the sounds of the woods and the river swirled around me. Nothing had changed since I’d been gone, though I wondered how I knew that; I didn’t remember being here before.
And yet…
And yet, I knew I had. My mind might not conjure memories of this place, but I felt a… comfort here, like a familiar and warm embrace.
Sitting in this place, this burned out church, stirred images of grand adventures and detective stories. Adventures and stories shared with my friends.
As ghosts, my friends visited…
#Blogwords, Wreading Wednesday, Featured Book Except, The Long Shadows of Summer, Seasons, Chapter One, Seasons, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Winds of Spring
Robin's Book Shelf
- Robin E. Mason's profile
- 81 followers
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/013018.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/0130181.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/the-blurb.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/0130182.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/remjan-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/12/slide8.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/012818-remjan-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/0129182.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/012918.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/0129181.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/02/front-porch-fellowship-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/slide112.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/slide26.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/slide36.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/slide45.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/slide53.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/08/how-can-i-pray-for-you-this-week.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/slide8.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/012618-remjan-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/0127182.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/012718.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/0127181.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/08/slide25.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/012518-remjan-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/12/seasons-series-covers-one-and-two.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2017/10/first-line-friday-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/51oon1pt9ul.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/012418-remjan-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/012418-whispering-winds-wreading-wednesday-banner.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/whispering-winds.jpg){kind=link}
![[image error]](https://robinsnest212.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/seasons-fleuron.gif){kind=link}