Dreamscape on a knife edge slashing the past, her tranquility on fire, dense smoke haunting each night. Abusive memories on a blind path of sharp betrayal, replaying each night when she turned out the light. Each morning's cure was to give love, gather love, her lips to a thorn hurting less when her heart held roses. ©September 2017, October 2021 Christina Anne Hawthorne
The essence of Ontyre captured in images.
The Yoga Burn Challenge
Helping writers become bestselling authors
Time-travel & dark romance stories with a guaranteed happy ending.
Changing the world with just a Paper and a Pen
Female/Feminine authored | identified | fronted | dominant
Motivate | Inspire | Uplift
A tunecatcher's blog
Writing Advice and Inspirational Places
Lydia Rae Bush Poetry
A place for me to create short stories, characters and more
I'm not insane, I'm a writer.
Christina Anne Hawthorne 