Monday, March 20, 2023

Candle on the Water


I'll be your candle on the water,
My love for you will always burn.
I know you're lost and drifting
But the clouds are lifting.
Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn.
I'll be your candle on the water,
'Till every wave is warm and bright.
My soul is there beside you,
Let this candle guide you.
Soon you'll see a golden stream of light.
A cold and friendless tide has found you,
Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down.
I'll paint a ray of hope around you.
Circling in the air,
Lighted by a prayer.
I'll be your candle on the water,
This flame inside of me will grow.
Keep holding on, you'll make it.
Here's my hand, so take it.
Look for me, reaching out to show,
As sure as rivers flow,
I'll never let you go.
I'll never let you go.
I'll never let you go...

Never stop praying for those you love. Be the light in someone's life. 😊💕

Monday, March 13, 2023

Random Tidbit #3

Hello, Kindreds!!

This is beautiful. Just... absolutely beyond gorgeous. 

And also has some moments of comedic value 😆

I've listened to this song probably a hundred times... I just can't get enough of it!! Emi, I have a feeling you'll love this one 😁 If you haven't already heard it, that is.

Till Next Time!


Friday, March 10, 2023

The Horrors of Mole

 Hey, people!

Seon here. Just posting this for the benefit of a friend who finds this weird little creature detestable. I, for one, think he's hysterical. And yes, I am mostly just spamming the blog. It's fun 😁

In my defense, this is historical fiction, of a sort. It's set during WWI!

See ya!


Monday, March 6, 2023

Snippets 😁

 Quotes from my upcoming book... with spoilers removed. Well, the major ones, at least.

And it makes it all so much cooler if you listen to the right music when you're reading... I've discovered that it certainly helps while writing... 😁

His first thought was sudden relief that he was alive,

his second, fear for whatever lay ahead of him.


They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die,

and Ronnie had seen that plenty of times before.

But this time, it was different. He saw only the

faces of those whose lives depended on him.


Man, she was pretty.

The kind of woman any man would be glad to die for. 


It must have only been a moment he stood there but it felt like a lifetime.

He gripped his rifle so tightly his knuckles were white

and his fingertips bleeding. He lifted one hand, pressing it against

his left shirt pocket to feel his Bible.

“God…” he gasped out the words… “If I die…” he wanted to say more,

but he knew God understood.


If you love this man, then let yourself love him. Maybe… you’ll find that

there’s a new place in your heart now.

A place for Mac Scott, eh?


"We could use men like you. Calm. Quick-thinking.

Putting the lives of your men before yours.

Fearless in the face of death.” He paused. “You do not answer me?” 

The lieutenant pushed his chair back to rise, narrowing his eyes. 

"You Americans are all so defiant," he hissed, his voice becoming suddenly angry,

his tone deadly.

"Do you not realize I could end your life in mere moments?"


"Stay with me." He pleaded, his voice so faint it was barely there. Slowly he reached out to her with a grimy, bloody hand. She took his hand, wincing as he squeezed hers with more strength than she expected a dying man to have. With her other hand, she smoothed the damp hair back from his forehead.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want" she murmured. "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake." 

He had been breathing hard, gasping for air. His breathing was slower now… shallow and rasping. He closed his eyes, squeezing her hand again, but weaker this time.

"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Thy rod and staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table for me in the presence of mine enemies, Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.


He set his jaw in grim determination, not faltering even when he felt a bullet tear through his right arm and another through his shoulder. Strange how he felt no fear of death… no regret at making it this far through the war only to be cut down now.

Sorry... those are all terribly depressing quotes. I promise the whole book isn't like that!! It's just that listening to the above posted song had a strange effect on me. The book is only about 50-60% sad, I guess... 🤔 Also note that these quotes are not necessarily related to each other, nor are they all on the same character. I'm dealing with several characters here. 

Till Next Time,


AGHHHHH!!!! The suspense... it's too much...

Thursday, March 2, 2023

In Which I Welcome My Ninth and Tenth Followers

I am all in ecstasies and raptures!!! Finally... after nearly a year... I have gotten a new follower!! I hereby extend my heartiest and most cordial of welcomes to this new kindred spirit, Samantha B. So glad to have you join us 😁 This isn't exactly the most enlightening of blogs, but we do have fun. 😊

And this reminds me that I never officially welcomed one of my greatest kindred spirits (although we are often at odds) the oddest mish-mash of Spider-Man fangirleyness and proper period drama appreciation, my co-blogger Seonaid!! That makes Seonaid the ninth and Samantha the Official Tenth follower. 

(In case you wonder why I say tenth when there are clearly eleven followers, it's because I've subscribed to my own blog. Shhhh... don't tell anyone 😆)

Anyway. About Seonaid, you can find her on the page tagged at the top of the blog "The Official Spider-Man Page".

And to officially welcome you both, I send the traditional "virtual welcome gift", the period drama memes.

For Samantha: 

And for Seonaid:

Till Next Time!


Saturday, February 25, 2023

Important Announcement

 I'm literally so excited, I can't see straight. As in I'm practically light-headed. 

I think I might've gone a bit overboard. I am nowhere near ready to publish... the book is only half-done. 


Kindreds, I am thrilled to announce that 

The Duty That Lies Before Us

is currently in publication on the blog!!

I'll only be posting chapter by chapter and progress will be slow. 

But you can begin reading today!!!

If you're interested 😏


Without further ado, I present to you,

(See?? I'm a poet and you didn't even know it.)

My Masterpiece.

Begin reading HERE

Tuesday, February 21, 2023

A Tribute to All Things Anne-ish

 Anne has as many shades as a rainbow and every shade is the prettiest while it lasts.

For Hamlette's Soliloquy's "We Love L. M. Montgomery Week"

Kindest Greetings of Welcome, Dear Kindred Spirits!

This week, we are celebrating the greatest author of all time, L. M. Montgomery. I am eternally grateful to her for giving us a certain red-headed, be-freckled heroine called Anne not to mention Green Gables and all connected thereunto. And so this week, I celebrate one of the most beloved characters in literature and personally, my favorite of all, created by our own beloved Montgomery. While Montgomery created countless beautiful, delightful character, Anne towers above all the rest. Immortally. And so, in honor of L. M. Montgomery, I offer this tribute, in honor of Anne Shirley. That's Anne spelt with an "E". 

I think the reason we love Anne is because she's so much like every one of us. She's like the secret, beautiful inside of us that we're afraid to show. And she inspires us, because she is not afraid to show it. Her imagination, the joy and beauty she finds in life, all the simple little pleasures she enjoys, all those living-in-the-moment experiences... Anne has taught me so much about just... living life. 

"Dear old world," she murmured. "You are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you."

I can't remember the moment I met Anne and all those who make up her world. They've just always been a part of my world. And I can't imagine being without them. I'm glad I don't know a time when I wasn't kindred spirits with all those of that magical place Avonlea... comfortable, homey Marilla; shy, sweet Matthew; gossipy and good-hearted Rachel Lynde; friendly and loyal Diana; and of course, Gilbert. Who is perfect in every way. 

I mean it when I say that the very words "Avonlea, Prince Edward Island" hold magic. And all who truly love Anne and her story... true kindred spirits... understand what I mean. It's a beautiful world of lacey dresses and puffed sleeves, of tea parties and one-room schoolhouses, of old-timey kitchens and plum puffs, of truly chivalrous suitors and vintage wedding dresses, of apple blossoms and Lakes of Shining Waters, of red, red roads and the spray of the ocean crashing up against the shoreline. Avonlea is our home away from home. And it's lovely to know at any time we can open up a book and be there again. 

"It's lovely to be going home and know it's home!"

One of the best things about Anne is that she, unlike many literary heroines, is not immune to mistakes. Mind the time she died her hair?? And of course, there was the liniment cake, the mouse drowned in the plum pudding, jumping on Great Aunt Josephine, falling of the ridgepole of Moody Spurgeon's kitchen roof.... not to forget the famous slate scene and accidentally getting poor Diana drunk! Or, of course, Dolly the cow and the mad chase through the muddy potato field... we all have our favorite Anne incidents! Just as long as we always remember...

"Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it."

The Anne story wouldn't be even half of what it is without our beloved Gilbert. A more perfect man is scarcely to be imagined than the curly-haired, hazel-eyed, roguish schoolboy who we first saw pulling our heroine's hair and calling her "Carrots".

He loved Anne from the beginning, in spite of all her faults and her obvious disdain of him. They were soulmates, and that was that. It's hard to believe that it took her so many years to realize it. Just think of all the times he showed his love in so many little ways. The friendly rivalry all through school... his encouragement at the White Sands concert... the way he gave up the Avonlea school for her so she could stay at Green Gables... 

But in the end, true love conquered all and resulted in the most beautiful of relationships I've ever seen. I fully believe that Anne and Gilbert are one of the few in literature who really found the true meaning of love. 

“Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”

Through Anne and Gilbert, L. M. Montgomery showed us what true love looks like.

The kind of love that will sacrifice for you

The kind of love that allows for good-natured bantering... because who wants a melancholy hero??

The kind of love that will pick you up out of the mud... literally

The kind of love that will give you advice, even when it makes you mad... and ultimately inspire you to do great things

The kind of love that you can just be yourself with!

"There will never be anyone for me but you."

 Who can help but love Marilla? The prickly, stiff old spinster that showed herself to have the kindest and most loving of hearts after all. When she took a lonely and love-starved little girl into her heart and home, they both changed and the most beautiful kind of friendship came out of it... the friendship of kindred spirits. Marilla was there with Anne every step of the way... supporting her, encouraging her, loving her. 

"It's never been easy for me to say the things from my heart, but you're like my own flesh and blood."

And then, of course, there is Matthew. A man of few words, who says so little and at the same time, says so much. He never makes an impact on the world... few people notice that he is alive in it. But he means everything to Anne. He is her rock... her quiet, steady source of love and encouragement. He is so proud of her and the knowledge that he is gives Anne wings. 

"I never wanted a boy. I only wanted you from the first day. Don't ever change. I love my little girl. I'm so proud of my little girl."

"I can't help wishing that she'd stayed a little girl."
"Mrs. Spencer made a lucky mistake, I guess."
"It wasn't luck; it was Providence. He knew we needed her."

Diana... the perfect friend. What would the Anne stories be without Diana? She was the friend Anne always wanted... the bosom friend, the first kindred spirit. The ever-supportive, faithful companion, close as a sister. Even if she did drink three tumblerfuls of red currant wine, send "Averil's Atonement" to the Rollings Reliable Baking Powder Company and marry roly-poly Fred Wright. 

"True friends are always together in spirit."

We must never forget Rachel Lynde. For she, like Katharine (with a K) Brooke, is really a kindred spirit under all her prickles. She may be "fat and ugly and a sour old gossip", but never let it be said that she didn't stick up staunchly for Anne when she needed it. A dear, soft old heart after all. And let us never forget her timeless little bits of wisdom, like...

"You're never safe from surprises till you're dead!"

I could go on for pages. Maybe even fill a book. Just think, for instance, of that wonderful ability of Montgomery to make us laugh! Countless times while reading Anne books, I've had to lay it aside while I laugh myself to tears.

"Life is worth living as long as there's a laugh in it."

But as surely as she can make us laugh, she can make us cry. And that is the mark of a truly great author. One who can make you laugh and cry... Sometimes at the same time.

"But really. One can't stay sad very long in such an interesting world, can one?"

And while I'm afraid I do not have the time to adequately discuss each one, I can't help but mention all the other kindred spirits in Anne's world.

Miss Stacey, who inspired me to become a teacher.

I believe the best teacher serves as a guide.

Aunt Josephine, yet another beautiful kindred spirit, under a grim and crochety exterior.

I like people who make me like them. Saves me so much trouble forcing myself to like them!

Katherine Brooke, who became a dear friend after months of self-deceiving rivalry.

Rebecca Dew, the epitome of capability and common sense.

Miss Cornelia, who always has and always will hate men.

Captain Jim, one of the kindest and most good-hearted souls the world has ever known.

And dozens of others... Philippa, Little Elizabeth, Aunt Kate and Aunt Chatty, Ruby Gillis, Jane Andrews, Priscilla, Davy and Dora... And so on and so forth.

And we can never forget Jem, Nan, Di, Walter, Shirley, and Rilla, Anne and Gilbert's precious and yet mischievous children.

Anne was never afraid to follow her dreams, despite what stood in the way. And she faced all the normal, human problems of life, same as we all do. She grew up. She worked her way through college. She made friends. She won hearts. She fell in love... she got married... she had children. She laughed and cried and worked and prayed. She experienced all the little joys and trials and sorrows and struggles and beauties of life. And through it all, she never really changed. She was always the same Anne that we know and love. As she said herself, "I'm not a bit changed--not really. I'm only just pruned down and branched out. The real ME--back here--is just the same.”

"I'll always be your Anne. Anne of Green Gables."

Oh, the pages I could fill with all things Anne-ish! Of the characters who are as real to me as life itself... Of the places I've lived in, in spirit, but never seen... Of all the beauty of days gone by... Of all the dreams Anne inspired me to dream!

But alas! I must end here for now. Methinks I must begin a series on all things Anne-ish (don't you just love that phrase??) Let me conclude for now by saying a sincere and hearty thank you to the woman who created the world of Anne. I never met you, Montgomery, but your books shaped my life. The immortal stories therein continue to inspire and motivate me... To dream, to work, to love. 

And now I must say,
Till Next Time, dear Kindreds!!


“I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”

Tuesday, February 14, 2023

Happy Valentine's Day!

 Hello, Kindreds!! Just posting an old Anne fanfic in honor of the day. Hoping you all had a lovely Valentine's Day!!

Best Wishes From Your Old Chum

    All was uproar at the little green-shuttered house on the corner of Spofford Avenue. Mishaps and arduous decisions on every corner. Phil was surprisingly rather languid just then… hours before she had been near to tearing her hair out over deciding whether she should wear her pink muslin or garnet taffeta. But alas! For Reverend Jo had sent word that he couldn't come to the dance that evening… and sent a cluster of pink rosebuds along with his regrets… fresh and dainty and sweet. In silent agony, Phil had put on the pink muslin, without knowing she had, and took great pains over pinning the rosebuds to her sash.

    Priscilla had sadly found a rent in her skirt and was rushing wildly about in search for an elusive needle. Stella had lost her best petticoat and was trying and failing to come to terms with wearing a flannel petticoat beneath her silken splendor.

    In fact, out of the foursome, Anne alone remained rather calm and collected… and the girls silently envied her. She hadn't lost her best petticoat… she hadn't torn her dress… and her beau would be arriving soon to escort her to the dance. But fate had something in store for Anne Shirley, soon to be B.A., that, had they known, would cause the other girls to be relieved they weren't in her shoes.

    The snow was drifting slowly down… not a mad blizzard nor a paltry flurrying… but just a gentle fall of feathery-light flakes. The sun was setting in purply-pink glory, sending flaming rays across the February sky and the frozen landscape was dusted with the snow.

    "Like fairy sugar…" Anne said dreamily, then stopped and made a wry face at herself in the mirror. "fairy sugar"… what sort of romantic simile was that? No, indeed, there must be a better word for it. "Stardust," she murmured, trying out its effect as she feasted her eyes upon the frosted glory of the snowy landscape. "Tiny fairy beads dropped from a golden thread. Silver dust. No, there I go again. Not in the slightest." She glanced again at the generous bouquet of white orchids lying on her dresser and tried yet another. "Maiden nature arraying herself in robes of purest white… as a bride adorned for her husband." and smiled with satisfaction. A fitting simile for the day… the most romantic day of the year… the day in which hearts were hung on air and messages of love given freely. The fourteenth day of February. Then, in startling contrast to her lovely thoughts came a rather mischievous one that spoiled the effect

    "It's snowing some today and Marilla says the old woman in the sky is shaking her feather beds. Is the old woman in the sky God's wife, Anne? I want to know." At first Anne was annoyed… as every dreamer is when their dreams are interrupted… but then she thought better of it and laughed most unromantically over Davy's poor little letter.

    The clock was chiming out in the hall… such a cheerful, companionable clock it was! "Clocks have personality, you know," she had said once. "Some tick along in such a friendly way as if they were eager to make every moment of time a happy one. Others drone along monotonously and make life a dull and miserable thing. And others act as if they were frightened… as if they couldn't bear to see another bit of time slip away into oblivion." This particular clock, however, was signifying that it was nearly time to leave and Roy would soon be arriving to escort her to the dance.

    Once again she surveyed herself, noting with pleasure the effect of the creamy silk slip with the rosebud-embroidered overdress of chiffon falling in graceful folds to the floor. With great deliberation, she chose the handsomest orchid from Roy's bouquet and held it against her hair. Phil paused as she came down the hall, leaning against the doorway with a discontented sigh as she watched Anne with her orchids and moaned about Jo's absence that evening. Anne didn't join her in her moaning… she had seen already what Phil longed to see in Jo's eyes and knew very well that he was madly in love with her coquettish little friend. She told Phil as much and Phil did seem to grow more cheerful. And then she let drop the little whim of fate that was bound to come sooner or later that evening…

    "By the way, Gilbert Blythe is going about constantly with Christine Stuart. Did you know?"

    Anne suddenly found that she could not quite seem to fasten her necklace. Darned old thing… what could possibly be wrong with it? But as she fumbled with the ill-fated little gold chain, she replied to Phil rather carelessly. She didn't know this Christine Stuart… but what on earth did that matter to her? Phil didn't seem concerned in the slightest… she had been furious when Anne had refused Gilbert. But she seemed to have dropped this view now.

    "Roy Gardner was foreordained for you," she concluded. "I can see that now. You were right after all." And then Phil disappeared down the hall, leaving Anne alone with her conscience. Anne did not like to be left alone with her conscience. And what was worse… somehow the beautiful evening seemed tarnished… spoiled. And not even yet begun. And so she was short with Phil and positively raged at poor, unsuspecting Rusty who retreated in bewilderment.

    Roy was waiting when Anne went downstairs… as handsome and inscrutable as ever. And simply full of romantic and poetical compliments… the kind of poetry that Anne had previously insisted "would win any girl's heart". So why did she feel so cross? And she felt as though she could barely find a thing to say, all along that walk to Redmond. It should have been glorious, that walk through the shining moonlight… for the moon had just risen… and the icy white snow was glittering like a thousand diamonds in the pale yellow glow. With her prince of dreams at her side… what more could she possibly ask? She didn't know. But something… something was lacking.

    Gilbert was the very first person she saw… spotting him immediately from far across the wide reception room, over the heads of dozens of others. And the girl with him… the girl who was Christine Stuart… the very queen of her dreams. Ivory-white skin and rich masses of shining, raven-black hair. The bluest of eyes that shone like sapphires and a stately, classical figure. Anne felt somehow more miserable than ever… acutely aware of her flaming red hair and large grey eyes. But the memory of her nose came to her rescue, as it often did, and she lifted her head to smile brilliantly at Roy. He really was terribly handsome with those melting dark eyes of his and that mysteriously dreamy smile.

    The orchestra was beginning to play… slow, soft music… the kind that seemed made of moonbeams and starlight. The rustle of silken skirts swished delicately over the marble floor and dainty heels clicked gracefully.

    Dance with me?" Roy murmured in that deep, velvety voice that Anne particularly loved and held out his hand. She took it, smiling up at him, though painfully aware that she wasn't blushing as she knew she ought to be, neither was her heart exactly skipping a beat. But that, as she well knew, was a physiological impossibility and not to be hoped for. She would settle without it. And then she put her hand in his and they were whirling across the floor.

    But in spite of being "madly in love" with Roy, as she had confessed and all others had declared her to be, Anne found no regret in flitting from partner to partner as they came to ask her for a dance. But Roy always reclaimed her, and quickly too. Then, in the middle of a splendid waltz, Gilbert swept past with Christine on his arm and Anne suddenly felt ill. The room was stuffy and close and her head ached. Roy was concerned, seeing her face grow pale, and insisted she rest. She did so, although it didn't seem to improve her condition. Nor did the constant attention from Roy improve it either. She noticed, from the corner of her eye, Gilbert bowing to Christine as the dance ended, and then backing away as a tall, blonde senior strode up to be introduced. She suddenly seemed rather interested in the solitary figure across the reception room. He wasn't… he couldn't be… but he was… he was coming this way. Anne suddenly felt her headache subsiding and the room didn't seem quite so stuffy. Gilbert was standing before her with the comfortable, companionable smile of old days and the old roguish spark in his hazel eyes.

    "Care to dance with an old friend, Anne?" he offered his arm with an eloquent gesture and Anne rose to take it… forgetful of Roy who stood by her now-vacant chair, glass of punch in hand and slightly annoyed expression on his handsome features.

    "Rather crowded tonight, isn't it?" Gilbert grinned as he swept Anne away. "Not like the little weekend dances in Avonlea… too many people out here. Fellow can't get a breath of fresh air."

    "Of course, this is not dear old P.E.I.," Anne laughed. "And so we must not expect in vain our lovely, invigorating island breezes."

    "I have an idea," Gilbert leaned closer, the hazel eyes twinkling maddeningly. "Let's sneak out to that moonlit garden I see out yonder," nodding toward the French doors at the end of the hall, "And have a session of 'do-you-remembers'. It's been far too long since we sat down and had a good chat."

    Anne agreed, with a sudden wistful little pain shooting through her. She had forgotten how terribly she missed her chummy conversations with Gilbert. He suddenly seemed dearer a friend than ever before. Roy was wonderfully romantic but when it got down to a friendly chat… he fell rather flat. Besides, they didn't exactly share any 'do-you-remembers'.

    The night was even more glorious than it had been before… the great golden moon swimming in a sea of stars. The garden was dead and buried beneath a blanket of snow… but no less beautiful for its mystical adornment of pure white. And what a relief it was after the oppressive heat of the reception room to feel the gentle chilling breezes of the February wind!

    Anne and Gilbert wasted no time in sentimental reflections on the landscape for both knew that subjects of any remotely-sentimental nature was dangerous ground. And so they plunged into the talk of the old days with hearty good-will, recalling amidst peals of laughter the rivals and successes, the accidents and mishaps, the glories and the sorrows, the joy and fun, of the dear old days when they had been but children and concerned with nothing much beyond their own little world of Avonlea and P.E.I.

    "Do you remember," Gilbert said suddenly, "That day we first met? When I called you carrots and… before I knew what was happening… you had cracked your slate clean across my head!"

    "How could I ever forget?" Anne smothered a most unladylike shriek of laughter. "What a little beast I was in those days! When a word against this horrid red hair of mine made mortal enemies for me. But really, it was too awful. Carrots! What worse shade could there be?"

    "I love carrots," Gilbert grinned mischievously and Anne made no comment. Indeed, any comment on her part would most likely direct the conversation where it had no business going.

    "And then… the day that Mr. Phillips punished me by making me sit with you," Anne added. What a humiliation that day had been! Resulting in her decision to never return to school although, of course, she had… once her temper had cooled off.

    "I remember that day," Gilbert smiled reminiscently. "And I tried to make peace over the carrots scene by giving you that pink candy heart… and you crushed it to powder."

    "Or the time I nearly drowned playing the Lily Maid and you came along to rescue me… and I behaved abominably to you. I am still ashamed of what I said that day."

    "But not a bit of it matters anymore… our friendship has erased all the old rivalry, hasn't it Anne?" Anne felt almost as if she could detect a note of longing… of pleading… in Gilbert's voice and she stiffened. "Kindred spirits can never hold grudges against each other."

    "No," Anne conceded. "I've quite forgiven you all that… and I hope you've forgiven me."

    Gilbert was silent a long moment… looking down at her in the moonlight. She swallowed hard, wishing in vain that she could find something… anything to say. But what? He reached out suddenly and took her hand in his. Something suddenly shot through her… something indefinable. And she felt her heart skip the traditional beat. Why must it do that now? Really, there must be something wrong with her. But he simply pressed her hand in friendly comradeship and dropped it again and then… the thrill was gone. But he was reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a little paper parcel.

    "I… have something for you," he said slowly, placing the little box in her hand. "Consider it a token of our friendship." With a slow smile that seemed almost sad, he made an excuse and returned inside.

    Anne lingered a moment in the frosty moonlight to open the little parcel. As she lifted the lid of the box, she felt something suspiciously like a lump in her throat and raised a trembling hand to her heart. Inside lay a little, thread-like gold chain with a tiny pink enamel heart dangling from it. A little pink heart… just like the one she had crushed on that fateful day so many years ago. And a card with Gilbert's familiar scrawl, "With best wishes from your old chum, Gilbert."

    Almost unconsciously, Anne gave a sigh of regret. Regret for old days long past and dead. Her heart suddenly seemed very empty and the days ahead gray and bleak.

    Many years have come and gone since that long ago dance on the fourteenth of February at Redmond College. But that night has not been forgotten. Nor have the years been successful in fading the laughter of old days. Rather, the years have enriched and beautified that laughter… turning a beautiful friendship into an ultimately more beautiful love. Old pains and regrets have healed.

    There is a large, friendly house in Glen St. Mary on P.E.I. surrounded by ample gardens, covered now in snow, as they always are in February. The same glittering, pure-white snow that fell on Redmond years before. And this house is full of love and laughter. Candles flickering in the windows and a roaring fire in the living room fireplace, over which two little green china dogs keep a faithful and everlasting watch. In the center of the room sits an old doctor with iron-grey hair and hazel eyes still twinkling with merriment and as young and boyish as ever. At his side is his wife, his Anne-girl, with threads of silver in her carrot-colored hair and laughter-lines around her grey eyes. Around her neck hangs a golden chain with a tiny pink heart hanging from it. At their feet, all around, sit a throng of rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed little ones, some with their grandmother's fiery red hair, others with their grandfather's roguish hazel eyes. Ah, yes, time has been kind to them. And love is a beautiful thing.

Sunday, February 12, 2023

Character Designs

Hello, Kindreds! I had an interesting week. Got a new job, twice the annual salary I had before and got a little more extravagant with my book budget. I found a very interesting website called Fivver which has all kinds of artists on it available for commissions. I originally started out to find a cover designer for the book, but then I got sidetracked and found a character concept designer. 

Sorry, that was a boring paragraph 😆 Suffice it to say that I decided to try out the character design and see what I got out of it. So I gave the designer the ultimate test... a description for Ronnie. I only ordered the five picture package but he apparently had so much fun with it that I got back a whopping 37. And it's the most amazing thing ever 😁 I feel like I hit the jackpot!! I must say that I can hardly believe that 37 different faces could come out of one description though. I mean... I've like got all my characters covered here. But... one out of those 37 was really, truly Ronnie.

I can't help adding this... somehow listening to this music and seeing these pictures... well... it's epic. It's a putting-me-in-the-writing-mood kind of a thing...

This one looks like Ken.

I did specify that the character was early twenties and this guy looks late thirties, early forties. But he'd make a good officer!!

Would make a good Josh...

Would also make a good Josh.

Extremely vibrant eyes 😳

This is also Josh 😆

This one is... almost Ronnie

And this is the winner. This is actually exactly as I pictured Ronnie. 🥰


Till Next Time!!