Ever she would, ever more reaching out, her heart failing, falling still. Ever she was touched, held close, everwell, the truth inside ever a lie Ever she feared she'd acknowledge the truth, in the ever of forever her love would remain a dream. ©November 2016, May 2021 Christina Anne Hawthorne
Christina Anne Hawthorne
Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.