On the eve of the night, invading the forest in her gown, a piano's echo calling, a single light beckoning, the dream that had become reality telling her she'd taken her longing too far. Candelabra flames wreathing immortal, she passed transient in shadow, a sonata whispering, an apparition leading, her new reality wrapped in fantasy letting her know there was no reason to ever leave. ©February 2022 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.
Join 2,741 other followers