The Lush Hush, – #poetry of the #naturalworld

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Still

Calm

Sweet Hush

Lilting

Singing

Soft and Lush

Whispers

Singing

True and Clear

Memory

Reaching

When

We Hear

The Still

Calm

Sweet Hush

Whispering

Reminding

Delicate and Lush

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~Morgan ~

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Beautiful original photography found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank you ~

Reassurances Come- #poetry of #spirituality and #mindfulness

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Reassurance

Reassurances Come
When I am not even Thinking,
Keeping me Focused
When My Heart is sinking.

Whispers Come softly
While I am still Sleeping,
Straightening my tread
On the Course I am Keeping.

Smiles Rain down
From the Heaven’s Above,
Reminding me Always
Of Unconditional Love.

Joy in the Journey,
The Lesson I’m Learning,
Walking Beside me, You
Keep me from Turning.

Yet, when I do Stray
From the Path Leading Home,
And when Doubts fill my mind,
Reassurances Come.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found on Google Image Search

Karina Bartow- An #Author who Challenges her #Challenges!

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I would love for you to meeet Karina Bartow who grew up and still lives in Northern Ohio.  Though born with Cerebral Palsy, she’s never allowed her disability to define her.  Rather, she’s used her experiences to breathe life into characters who have physical limitations, but like her, are determined not to let them stand in the way of the life they want.  Her debut novel, Husband in Hiding, came out in 2015 and was well-received by readers.  Her second, Forgetting My Way Back to You, was released in October 2018 by Vinspire Publishing and has been praised by reviewers.  She may only be able to type with one hand, but she writes with her whole heart and I hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her books as much as I did when she recently contacted me.

HI Karina 🙂  Thank you for taking a few moments to share your story with BnV 🙂  Lets dive right in, shall we?  Do you have a preferred POV that you write from and why?  When I started writing, I tried first person perspective, but I found it confining with so many elements to a plot. Now, I only write in third person so that I can show a broader scheme rather than one corner.

Do your characters dictate what or how your write in any way?   For sure! Even though I have a general idea of their personalities from the beginning, they take their own turns I don’t always expect. I just go with it!

LOL, I tend to let my characters tell their own story too! What type of book do you like to read and does this differ from the genre that you prefer to write?   I’ve always enjoyed love stories, so that’s what I started writing. After a few years, though, I was drawn to mysteries, and that’s my preferred genre in which to write. When given a choice of what to read, I still stick with love stories. Call me sappy!

Tell us a little more about your book?    At one point or another, everybody finds themselves wanting a second chance, whether it be missing the mark on an investment, failing to live up to a certain goal, or letting a true love slip away. It’s very seldom, however, that one receives the proverbial do-over.

Charlee Stoll and Hunter Jett become the modern-day exception. After a decade-long estrangement, the high school sweethearts reconnect when Hunter, fresh off a career in arena football, returns to his hometown. Their reunion catches both of them by surprise, and they quickly recapture the love they once shared. When Hunter begins to rethink his choices, though, tragedy strikes. During a heated confrontation, Charlee’s thrown off a horse and sent into a week-long coma.

When she awakens with no clue who he is, he seizes the chance to right his wrongs, but it proves more challenging than he expects. On top of romancing her, he must overcome her father’s displeasure, another ex-boyfriend vying for her love, and her own mission to regain her memory.  Through charm and deception, can he win back her love…before she discovers the truth?

Sounds Fantastic !  You can find Karina’s book here 

Thanks so much Karina for sharing your time and talent with BnV!  I wish you many Blessings and Success 🙂

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~Morgan~

 

One Fate- #Love #Poetry of #Soulmates

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SoulMate

Plighted before the worlds began,
Before I became Woman,
Before You became Man.
Sharing One Breath, Accord Incarnate;
Breathing Together,
Our Inseparable Fate.

Created as One, by birth Divided,
Always Seeking the Other,
Our Destiny Guided.
Living without You, OH Loneliest state;
Reunification
Our Unalterable Fate.

Changeless as the Eternal Sea
I, Longing for You;
You, Longing for me.
Wordless Perfection, Sweetest Soul Mate,
Each breath bringing Closer
Our Inexorable Fate.

~Morgan~

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Beautiful Artwork courtesy of : http://www.lightascension.com

Angel of Mercy #Preview of a #FantasyCharacter

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As a result of the recent poll I took on WP, as well as Facebook, I was finally able to dress my main character from Angel of Mercy.

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The uniform Lévesque had given him was that of a regimental officer made of black leather that did not immediately impress, particularly when folded up lying upon a blood-stained table.  The black leather pants were snug, trimmed with gold embroidery and dressed by a triplet of golden buttons embossed with the Eminent Protectorate’s seal on either side of this trim just below the hip.  The snug-fitting coat was also embroidered with golden trim, set off smartly by a double row of similar golden buttons that ran along the outside length of the coat and collar. Individual straps of black leather closed the coat by crossing the front of it from one button to the other, while epaulettes, which also bore the EP seal and looping golden fringes, were set off by two golden cords ornamentally draping the neckline.

Black leather boots with lacings and a wide leather belt completed the ensemble and after putting everything on, he walked with a purposeful stride to the small dais upon which Jshunamir was displayed.  Taking up his own baldric of soft gray leather, the only thing that remained from what he had been wearing on the day he encountered Lévesque, he cinched it loosely round his hips and picked up his sword.  Unstained and untarnished, though it had not been cleaned, it glittered as beautifully as it did on the day it was forged; it’s inlaid runes glimmering with a silvery light all their own. Sheathing it, he turned back toward the table, noticing Lourdes at last who stood watching him with an unguarded stare.

Smiling subtly, he met her gaze, the deep lavender of his eyes searching hers, but she closed her and looked down at the bundle she carried, clearly unable to express herself.  Crossing the floor with an unhurried stride, he looked down at himself and then back to her with an openly curious expression.

“Does it suit me? I think it’s a bit,” he paused, seeking the correct word, but she finished his sentence for him, her tone openly approving.

“Magnificent.”

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Tzadkiel is the Archangel of Mercy, sent to earth in the 4th era after the first of the Four Horsemen have ridden. He is looking for one human among those who remain who still understands Mercy.  He’s been looking for nearly 100 years, but he’s finally found her…a young servant named Lourdes.

Just a taste of the work in progress….

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Artwork by aenaluck

Under Construction- #poetry for #DailyMeditations

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construction

You may see me, day to day;
Laughing, Joking, hard at work
And Play.

You may see me, night after night;
Sitting, reading, a single candle
My Light.

You may watch me, week after week;
Managing to get by, while The Truth
I seek.

You may Ignore me, year after year;
Never knowing my Beauty because of
Your Fear.

Yet, if you look closely, it’s a simple deduction;
I live this Abundantly,
Under Construction.

~Morgan~

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Photography by me 😊

Input Requested – #MainCharacter Polll

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I’m looking for a bit of fun input. My main character in Angel of Mercy needs to wear a military uniform during a portion of the story. It’s 400 years in the future and I’m going for a goth military look.  Oh, and just for clarity, in the story his wings are not visible.

I’ve narrowed it down to these. Which one do you like best?

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Thanks !

~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Artwork by aenaluck

The Request – #ShortStories for #Meditation and #Devotions

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Loving Hands

There was a small village, smack in the middle of nowhere. While the rest of the world updated their Facebook pages, Tweeted, LinkedIn, texted, posted, and multi-tasked at a pace even Data from the Enterprise would find impressive, this tiny island of inhabitation, cohabitation and harmony went on in blissful serenity. Isolated from the modern economy by miles of wilderness and separated from the modern culture of Want, Avarice, Greed, and Self-Promotion, this community set its standards for excellence by different measures.

Led by a Chief who was the most honorable of men, who was just and merciful, caring and compassionate, yet strict in his moral code, the people of the village lived in a collective accord with each other and with nature. They shared their wealth, as well as their poverty, equally; they worked together for the prosperity of all and, when needs arose outside their sphere of influence they would make appeals to their Chief to provide for them.

One day a young man, who was recently married and whose wife was with child, came to the Chief with a request of pressing urgency. Sitting down at the fire with this young man, the Chief listened carefully to his concerns without interruption, his kindly expression filled with understanding and patience. The young man, however, was fretful, distracted, impatient and tense, and repeatedly rose from his place at the fire to pace around the room or go to the door and stare anxiously outward, his emotions ruling his thoughts and logic.

It was not a simple request he was making. What he needed was not something to be found within the limits of the village and the price of collecting it was costly. Nevertheless, the Chief listened, understood, and assured the young man he would work diligently on acquiring the item, regardless of how long it took. He asked the young man to wait until he sent word to him that he had what it was he asked for and could come back to get it. Agitated and unappeased, the young man went away.

The following week the young man returned. His countenance was shaken; his nerves were frazzled. He asked the Chief all over again for the item, repeating much of what he had already said, never giving the Chief a moment to assure him that the process of acquisition was already taking place and it would not be long until it would be shipped to the village. Overwrought by worry, the young man begged insistently, growing angry when the Chief tried to explain the simple fact that, although the man’s request had been heard, it was still being worked on; the young man would have to wait just a bit longer.

Another week passed and no message came from the Chief to tell the young man the item had arrived. Thoroughly vexed, the young man decided to set out on his own for the towns, miles away through savage wilderness, with little money in his pocket. He did not know how he would attain the item he needed, but he carried with him a blade that would protect him from harm as well as convince those who sold the item of his urgent need. He left his home, his wife, his unborn child, his village and his chief.

The very next day word came to his hut that the Chief requested him to come to his tent at the center of the village. The item of his desire had finally arrived; the Chief had worked tirelessly, night and day, to raise funds so it could be purchased, packaged carefully, shipped and he now stood with the delicate, beautiful treasure in his hands, awaiting the young man’s arrival so he could give it to him and they could celebrate together.

The young man, however, did not come. He was lost in the wilderness, miles away, and did not know that the answer to his prayers was waiting for him and that all he had to do was come and receive it.

 

 

~Morgan~

Beautiful artwork courtesy of: http://www.themothersprayer.com

Love’s All Encompassing Splendor- #LovePoetry of #Passion and #Romance

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When Daylight fades on the sill of the world,
And the Sweet Kiss of Moonlight seeks my face,
It is Then I feel Your presence closest to my heart
And know the Joy of Your lightest Touch.

When the Spangled Night is caressed by stars,
And Tranquil zephyrs Intoxicate my Senses,
It is Then I feel the Warm Touch of Your lips
And Shiver in the heat of Your Love’s Devotion.

When the night lark Sings to the Glistening Dawn,
And Venus in her orbit Traces the Ebon Night,
It is Then I Know Your Heart was made for mine,
And Weep in Love’s All Encompassing Splendor

~Morgan~
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The Meaning of Life- #Thoughts on the #HumanCondition, #Life and #Writing

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I need some BnV!

Excuse me??

Yes, you heard me, I need some BnV. I don’t honestly think I can live without it. (Book and Volume that is.) (Yes, that’s what BnV stand for)

I must confess since I began writing this blog, (which, if I continue confessing I wasn’t entirely sure about starting off with,) I have found myself wanting to write more and more and more and more, found I have far greater inspiration than I’ve had in years, and found an unparalleled sense of accomplishment in “seeing” (so to speak) that others find my particular form of creativity (or madness, whichever you feel is more relevant) enjoyable, interesting, amusing or, at the very least, frighteningly intriguing. (Perhaps you’ve had a similar experience with your blog?) Well, let’s face it, BnV does have a certain indescribable quality about it that makes you scoff, shake your head, and yet, come back for more. (yeah, it has that affect on me too!)

But to come back to my original point, although I’ve been writing this blog since 2013 (I know, kinda insane, huh?) I have rediscovered in the past 30 days (or so- I wasn’t counting, exactly) such pleasure in writing again that it’s hard to put into words….which is a bit of a conundrum given that writing is, after all, the crux of the issue here.(here being WordPress..or whatever blogging platform you choose to use) I’ve often wondered how writers can lock themselves away from the rest of the world, eat little, talk less, and simply immerse themselves in their craft, letting the world go on without them, little caring, little worrying (maybe), but I no longer wonder about that. Now it is me (or, to be grammatically correct, should that be I?) who finds herself wishing she could do the aforementioned: forget the world, the job, the tedious responsibilities of life (though not the cat!), lock herself away from all resort (rather like Ophelia) (sorry, Yes I still insert Shakespeare into almost any conversation, but don’t let me deviate into Shakespeare… just yet!) and write until I come up gasping for breath.

Without BnV, where would I be? I admit that sounds a bit dodgy, perhaps risqué. My apologies for the double entendre (I think)(it’s just so catchy, really), but in all honesty, I sometimes feel that compelled, THAT enticed….to write, that is, and to hope that whatever it is I am saying will either make someone out there in the byzantine blue smile, chuckle, or have one of those OH! moments. (or, at the very least, that said hypothetical person doesn’t run off screaming like Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone.)

Admittedly, I knew this before, but just as many things in life, losing sight of what we love is so easy to do.  So easy, in fact, that, now I’ve rediscovered this passion, its rather an epiphanic realization (that my writing means more to me than most anything else), but there it is in its undeniable, inexorable splendor. Sure, I’ve heard it said since I was a child that finding your passion and pursuing it is the only way to truly be happy working through the salt mines of life, but I’ve also heard it said, over and over, again and again, as I am sure many of you may have, that I should get my head out of the clouds and concentrate on the serious matter of getting ahead in the world. Making it big, securing the future, having a reliable, steady 9-5’er that will pay the bills, put food on the table, yadda, yadda, yadda.  So who can blame me that it took this long to have the aforesaid epiphanic insight? (yes, I just like “saying” that word!) Well, the only person who can blame me is me really, since I’ve known since I was 10 years old that writing was what I loved to do best.

Ok, so you’re probably wondering about now what my point is? Well, as I said in my very first post,(go ahead and re-read it, I’ll wait for you) I’m far more likely to natter on endlessly about nothing in particular than anything specifically, so in reality I don’t truly need a point right now; however, you are in luck because I do, actually, have one. No drum roll please. No tympanic reverie necessary. No triumphal horns pealing in proclamation; no, my simple and unadulterated point is just this: (ok, I agree, I adulterated it quite a bit in the last few paragraphs, but let’s not be mean spirited…) that I think Curly from the movie City Slickers put it best:

One thing

Curly (Jack Palance): Do you know what the secret of life is? [holds up one finger]
Curly: This.
Mitch(Billy Crystal): Your finger?
Curly: One thing. Just one thing. You stick to that and the rest don’t mean sh***.(Well, this is a PG-13 blog after all)
Mitch: But, what is the “one thing?”
Curly: [smiles] That’s what you have to find out.

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Rediscovery of what you’ve forgotten you remember is a journey with a happy ending as soon as you begin.

~Morgan~

#FREE #Book #Epic #YA #Fantasy #DarkFey The Reviled

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FREE for a very limited time

Ayla has an exceptional combination of magical gifts: empathic telepathy, discernment, and the gift of healing.

Gairynzvl was abducted by The Reviled at the age of seven, and suffered cruel neglect, abuse and deprivation – a process designed to turn childfey from the Light.

Now, fifteen years later, he is a Dark One who lingers in the shadows, trying to communicate with Ayla.

Through her extraordinary gifts and against all odds, Ayla listens to him when no others will, and touches his pain.

Find Dark Fey on Amazon

Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase

Discover more about Dark Fey

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~Morgan~

Playing in the Rain- a #Sci-Fi, #Post-Apocalyptic, #Suspense #Page-Turner

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Sandra J. Jackson is an award-winning Canadian author living in rural Ontario with her family. Her published novels include Promised Soul and Playing in the Rain – Book 1 of the Escape Series. The second book of the series is awaiting publication while Sandra works on editing the final book. She holds a professional membership with the Canadian Author Association and is a member of Writer’s Ink.

Playing in the Rain

When the effects of a hypnosis inducing drug fade, April slowly begins a conscious awakening. Memories of her past are unclear and she has no recollection of her identity or her whereabouts.

As the days slip by, April realizes there is more to life than existing when she is introduced to an occupant who does just that—her sister. The more she learns about her environment the more she wants to escape.

Will April remember her past, her sister? Will she have the courage to leave?  And if she does, where will she go?

Experience through April’s eyes her struggle to remember and her determination to escape in this sci-fi, post-apocalyptic, suspense story.

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Hi Sandra!  Its  great having you stop by for a quick chat.  Tell us about you.  What do you love most about Writing?

What I love most is that no matter what ideas I might have my characters are the ones who direct the story. They surprise me every time.

I love when they do that!  I like to tell their story, using 2nd person.  Do you have a preferred POV that you write from and why?

Both of my books are written in first person (though Promised Soul does have a couple of chapters written in third). I like the way first person draws readers into a story and makes them feel like they are a part of it.

First person is something I haven’t tried yet.  Maybe one day.  Makes me wonder, does it drive how your write….and Do your characters dictate what or how your write in any way?

Absolutely! I have a quote that I use on my business cards and a few other things. “Only my characters truly know what’s happening—I just hold the pen.”

I wrote that quote because this is how it is for me.

Oh thats so true…I never know where they will lead me. Im often just holding on for the ride!  Playing in the Rain sounds like a marvelous, page-turner!  Where can we find it?

Find it on Amazon

Discover More of Sandra’s Writing

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Thank you so much for visiting BnV, Sandra.  I am so happy to share your story…and your story!

Blessings and Success 🙂

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~Morgan~