Her house was haunted bliss after she opened the doors and invited the apparitions in. She treasured burials at night when faces disappeared only to return as ghostly white. Oh how she loved Puppy howling at the moon and Kitty burying neighbors while Crow sang his lively tune. There was freedom in madness when dancing on sanity's fringe with a bloody edge to place a deadly kiss. ©September 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.
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