She gasped, took a breath, but there was no air. A touch, a single touch, a gentle touch. A single word, a word for her. Her name. She stared, but the rational world held no answers. A chill, a single chill, unlike any other. An emotion, one long unknown. Desire. ©November 2018, December 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.
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