An Improper Derailment: Chapter 14

Where Mary discovers just how bad the situation really is…
Untitled design
Catch up with Chapter 13…

Start the series from the beginning…

With a delighted giggle Mary spread out her cards. Ace, King, Queen, and a pair of nines, all hearts.

Marshall nodded, that irresistible half-grin across his face.

“Looks like you won again,” he said as he slid a penny across the table to Mary’s side. She had a collection of pennies gathered near her elbow, a testament to her winning streak.

“This game is easy. I don’t know why Grandfather objected so strenuously to it.”

“Maybe he didn’t win with the same ease.” He folded his cards, and reached for the stack of cards.

Mary’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping his motion.

“What did you have? How badly did I beat you?”

“You thoroughly whipped me.” He continued to pull the cards together.

Mary tugged against his wrist, unrelenting in her desire to see how wide of a spread she won by.

One of Marshall’s cards slipped. She snatched it.

A ten of spades. A decent card to have, but it wouldn’t do him any good if the rest were mix-matched suits and low numbers.

Mary grabbed at his cards again.

He yanked his arm away from her, and held his cards high out of her reach.

With and huff and a determined set to her chin Mary stood up and leaned far over the table, struggling to get to the cards in his outstretched hand.

“Why won’t you let me see the cards?” she asked with a frustrated grunt.

“Why do you need to see them so badly?”

Mary sat with a thump. She crossed her arms and pushed her lower lip out in a curled pout.

“A little bird’s gonna come in here and sit on that lip,” he said with a wink.

His wink flustered her. She sucked her lip back into her mouth and anchored it in place with a bite.

“Damn, if you’re gonna look at me with your eyes all big like that.” Marshall sighed heavily and slid the cards, face down across the table.

Mary squirmed in delight, she had won another battle against the intimidating Marshall Hunt. She grabbed at the cards.

The train rocked with more aggressive force than when it had been buffeted by gale winds of the night before. The passenger compartment went silent. Another hard rock, and several passengers gasped in fear.

“Never mind the cards,” Marshall yelled. “Get your coat.”

“What? But…” Mary looked at the cards in her hands. Spades a royal flush. “You let me win,” she said in a small voice.

Her heavy coat hit her in the face. She looked up at Marshall, his Stetson already rammed down onto his head.

“Put your coat on woman, we’ve got to get out of here before this train comes off its rails!”

Find out how they get off the train… in December…

©2020 Lulu M Sylvian

In the Cards by Ariel Dawn ~ A Cursed All Hallows’ Eve Author Spotlight Interview

 

Blurb:

A family curse, a powerful warlock bound by love, and a woman bewitched. Psychic Ember Stone has been dreaming of a blue-eyed, dark-haired man for as long as she can remember. When a man named Derek shows up as her next client, she’s shocked to see he resembles the man in her dreams. Who is Derek, and why does she feel drawn to him? As secrets emerge and answers come to light, Ember’s feelings for Derek intensify. But on Halloween, a centuries-old curse will change everything, requiring a sacrifice neither of them can bear. Follow Ember, Derek, and their strange connection through the ages as they navigate the haunting secrets that will either bring them together or tear them apart.

Excerpt:

“Do you always dress like you’re going to a funeral?” She took a sip of the warm apple wine and gestured to his black slacks.
“Only when I’m trying to be brooding and mysterious.”
Perhaps the brooding part was missing, but Ember couldn’t deny he had the mysterious part down pretty well. He smiled, a perfect white-toothed smile and Ember could feel her insides flush with warmth. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, his presence, or a combination of the two.

Where can readers find In the Cards?

Available exclusively in A Cursed All Hallows’ Eve: Limited Edition Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, and Reverse Harem Halloween Themed Collection

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The veil is thin. Darkness calls. Will you answer?

Halloween curses plague the daring heroes and spunky heroines in this spirited collection of tales. A Cursed All Hallows’ Eve brings you 20+ stories stuffed with everything from dark gods to brooding shifters, delivering hours of decadent, pleasure-filled reading from bestselling and award winning urban fantasy and paranormal romance authors.

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Answer the call, because this Halloween, not all the costumes are disguises.

AUTHOR INTERVIEW

 
Hello and welcome, readers! We have Ariel Dawn here with us today. Ariel Dawn, thanks for visiting us.
How long have you been a writer and how did you come to writing?
I have been writing stories all my life honestly, but this year I started sharing them with the world. I became a published author officially in April, with my short story Faded, which was part of a charity anthology to help fund research for breast cancer. Fated Souls, by The New Romance Café.
 
Tell us about your title featured in: A Cursed All Hallows’ Eve
I wrote In The Cards during the first 8 weeks of quarantine. I read tarot, and have an interest in the paranormal and magic, or manifestation.  As someone who reads cards, I thought it would be fun to play into the idea of that kind of “real magic”.  The idea that some people are linked, through destiny or fate or even reincarnation was something that has always appealed to me, and that’s what In The Cards is about—connection. The magic of love, of soulmates.
How did you come up with the storyline?
I answered a call to participation for A Cursed Halloween because the theme just was perfect for me—curses, and Halloween.  Halloween IS my Christmas.  I knew I wanted the tarot cards to play a factor, and I knew I wanted there to be an air of mystery and spookiness surrounding the cards, and the connection felt between the psychic, and the man she reads for.  I’d often seen writing prompts that list a few things, that are so vastly different and the prompt is to make all of the things that don’t belong, belong.  That’s essentially how I came up with the rest of the story—I thought about all the things I wanted to convey, no matter how “out of place” it might be. Psychics, warlocks, curses, wine, the 1920s, magic, and love. All of it is the fabric that makes up In The Cards.
What inspires you to write?
I love romance, especially paranormal romance. I’m a daydreamer and an incurable hopeless romantic. Honestly, I find inspiration everywhere—photographs, songs, the couple in the coffee shop. I’m always writing a story, even if it does not make it to paper.
Tell us about your other books:
I started with In The Cards, but there will be more stories from that universe. When I was writing In The Cards, there seemed to be one character, Ava Crowley who would not relent in my mind, and so I wrote her story. I’m hoping to release it soon, hopefully before the New Year. I have plans for several books, that take place in the spooky town of Chester.
I’ve also got several projects lined up for the next 2 years, and I intend on spreading my wings and writing fantasy, contemporary and YA as well as paranormal romance. In The Cards is only the beginning!
Where can readers find you? (links to your social media, website, etc.):
About the Author:
I grew up an avid reader and daydreamer. As a creative soul, I enjoy many forms of expression aside from writing. I am a photographer, an artist, a cosplayer, a gamer, a foodie and a self-professed geek. When I’m not at a convention in cosplay, writing love stories, or editing photos; I can often be found reading with a cup of tea, running my Instagram Wrong Turn Romance, entertaining friends and family with great food, and playing video games or board games with my retro gamer husband.

Get more Halloween themed stories like this in 

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An Improper Derailment Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Where Mary lands in Marshall’s lap…

bored-lookingout-train-window

Catch up with Chapter 7

or start from the beginning

Mary’s glorious trip from San Francisco had been an adventure of wonder.

Grandfather had escorted her out himself, and he had spared no expense, renting a private Pullman car, and hiring a traveling companion and a maid.
Mary had spent many pleasant hours in companionable silence reading together with her companion, a widow named Mrs. Vaughn.
Mrs. Vaughn had spent too many years supporting her husband, a forty-niner, who chased his dream of gold. And she had chased her dream of finding a good husband when she had signed on as a mail order bride. Apparently neither Mrs. Vaughn nor her husband found their hearts’ desire.

Now that she was widowed, Mrs. Vaughn was returning to her family in New York. She was pleased to have found a situation that would allow her to travel in good company as far as Chicago, where she was more than certain she wold be able to find another situation as travel companion, or nanny to a family going to New York.

Mary hadn’t been terribly nosey, and Mrs. Vaughn hadn’t shared too much of her life’s story. They would sit and watch the scenery together, with the occasional conversation. Otherwise it was quiet companionship, and the rare moment of hand gripping when the train scaled the side of a mountain and rocked ever so terrifyingly side to side. It was a miracle they did not fall off the tracks.

The private car had afford them privacy, and Mary had a small private bunk with access to her belongings. In the evenings they would dine in the comfort of their car, and once even they made their way up the narrow aisles of the passenger cars to dine in the formal lounge car.

Grandfather had spent the majority of his trip forward in the lounge, conversing with other gentleman.

In no time they had arrived in Chicago, and in glorious splendor Charles and Janey had swept Mary into their realm of influential friends and introduced her to society.

Mrs. Vaughn stayed on for a few days, and as suspected, she found another situation without any problems. Mary gave her a congenial handshake in farewell. The maid, Mary assumed she had been absorbed in to Janey’s household. She hadn’t bothered to pay attention in her excitement.

Grandfather made sure Mary was situated. And she thought he understood that she was interested in accepting a proposal here, and staying here. She especially thought so when he had said, “be sure to find someone to take care of you dear. That big house back home will seem empty without your company.”

He had returned to San Francisco after several weeks, and several business meetings that were none of Mary’s never mind.

This wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

If Grandfather was going to call her home in such an embarrassing fashion, he could have at least made her traveling arrangements to be more comfortable. Well, at least he hadn’t expected her to sit in a public car.
She grew uncomfortable sitting so precisely in her coat and traveling hat.

Marshal Hunt had made himself comfortable enough. He had fallen asleep before the train left the station, and now he slept.

Mary cast about the small space. Maybe she could relax a bit. Nothing as informal as sleeping in this man’s presence, but…

She stood up and shrugged out of her coat. The task involved contortionist skills on her behalf. Mary was not used to dressing, or undressing on her own. She froze, a chill of pure horror grabbed her spine. How was she supposed to sleep tonight? She had no garments to change into? Did that man expect her to actually sleep in his company with no chaperone?

“You had better sit down before you fall over.” His dark voice startled her, and Mary fell back across his legs.

Realization that she was splayed across Marshall Hunt’s lap had Mary scrambling to find her feet.

Large hands wrapped around her waist. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Hold up, you’re all tangled, and you’ll just fall over again.”

With ease and dexterity Mary lacked, Marshall finished removing her coat and laid it out on the seat beside him, over his coat. Mary refused to look at the intimate way their garments rested together.

She started to squirm again, wanting out of this compromising position. His hand snaked around to the front of her midsection and pulled her firm against his chest.

She felt him remove her hatpin, and then her hat followed her coat onto the seat.

“There, that better?” he released his hold of her and helped her to a standing position.

Mary stood distraught in the center of the cabin. She smoothed her hands down her front serval times.

“Mr. Hunt, that was—”

“You’re welcome,” he drawled.

She sat with an indignant huff, and her hand holding her neck. How was she to survive the indelicacies of these traveling arrangements?

“That’s not what I was going to say. Mr. Hunt my reputation is at stake. You must never mention such familiarity with me to anyone.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

Keep reading with Chapter 9!
©2020 Lulu M. Sylvian

An Improper Derailment Chapter 7

Chapter 7
Where the traveling arrangements are not to Mary’s liking…

steam engine

Catch up with Chapter 6!
or start from the beginning here

Steam billowed up from the engine. Light filtered into the loading platform, obscuring everything from sight. The heavy loader beasts grunted, and hissed.

Being in close proximity to the animals made Mary nervous. It was bad enough having to travel through the streets of Chicago behind an ostrich, she now had to brace herself, knowing they were near by.

Born and raised in a city, and as a proper young lady she did have riding lessons. The biggest animal she was used to having to deal with were horses. Even if the riding stable had trained for the larger saurans.

She followed the porter down the row of train cars to her carriage.

A large shadow loomed through the steam. Mary jumped, heart pounding, afraid that the impending dark that approached her was one of the saurans.

“Miss Dryer.” The voice that rolled out of the cloud calmed Mary more than she cared to admit.

The tension in her back relaxed, and if it weren’t for her corsets, her posture would have slumped noticeably.

He tipped his hat to her, and she found her composure. How dare this man be so familiar with her. She did not know him, she did not care for his company. It did not matter than a million men this afternoon had already tipped their hats in her direction in a gentlemanly acknowledgment of her presence. What mattered was that this brute was here to make sure she got home to be married off to the highest bidder.

She shuddered and let out a low growl. Her grandfather had ruined everything. Pythagorus could probably bank roll whomever George Dryer had cornered into marrying her sight unseen.

She tipped the porter after Marshall took her carrying case from the other man.

“Come with me.” His voice was a gravely command.

With a harrumph she followed him up and into the train. The man didn’t even have the decency to allow her to mount the steps first.

She walked with as much dignity as she could muster down the narrow passage. They encountered another group headed in the opposite direction. Mary began backing up, they would have to make their way to the juncture of the two cars before the others could pass.

Marshall didn’t budge. She couldn’t see his face, but the face of the porter facing him told Mary all she needed to know. He was glowering and being intimidating. She would have to speak with him privately about his behavior if he were to be in public with her. She would not tolerate boorish caveman like rudeness. If he wanted to be that way, he could excuse himself and go ride one of those beastly saurans.

With much fussing the other party backed up. Mary nodded and gave them a weak smile along with her sincerest apologies. “I am dreadfully sorry. Trains are so small, but still so much more comfortable than traveling by horse cart.” She scurried to catch up with Marshall once passed her embarrassing ordeal.

“Mr. Hunt.”

He ignored her and continued walking. Which Mary noticed with some satisfaction, was difficult for him and his broad shoulders in the narrow space. He had to twist slightly to the side and lead with his right shoulder.

“Mr. Hunt.”

He turned his head back to cast a quick glance at her. “Marshall will do just fine. I’m not one of your fancy gentlemen.”

“Obviously. That is what I daresay we need to speak about.” She stopped following him and stomped her small foot. He wasn’t paying her any attention at all. It was infuriating.

He finally stopped and slowly turned all the way back to look at her. He said nothing. He slid open the door to a passenger compartment. He tossed her bag in, and then held up his hand indicating she should enter next.

She stomped her foot again, and with another indignant huff she stormed passed him and into the compartment.

She wasn’t able to stomp far. The room, if it could be called that was barely larger than a wardrobe where she stored her dresses.

“Where is my state room? What is this?” She demanded.

There were bench seats facing each other, with racks above their heads.

Marshal shouldered his way into the small space.

Mary was astounded to silence that the man had the audacity to enter her room without permission.

She stumbled over her own tongue as he took his hat off and placed in on the rack, before shrugging out of his coat and sitting down.

How dare he!

“Mr. Hunt!”

He looked up at her, completely unaware of the affront he was causing.

She pointed her finger indicating the door. “You should leave sir.”

“Sit down,” he told her.

She stomped her foot. “Not until you explain what is going on here. And then exit my room.”

“What is going on here is I am settling in to take a nap. We have a long ride ahead of us, and the lounge car, and open-air observation cars will not be open until we are underway and out of the city.” He squinted at her like he did not fully comprehend her, something Mary did not find unexpected.

“My room, you should leave.”

“No Miss, not your room.”

“Then I should leave, where is my stateroom?” She was shocked he would have let her enter his cabin, but he had tossed her bag in here so unceremoniously.

“Sit down Miss Dryer. This is our room. There are no staterooms available on this train, and your grandfather did not send me with enough funds to acquire a private Pullman car for your feminine needs.” he kicked his rather long legs out, and propped his boots on the plush seat across from where he slouched. “I was able to get us a private compartment. Don’t worry, once the conductor has checked our tickets, I will not be spending my time in here. I have already lined up a card game that will keep me occupied for the majority of our days on this rolling cart. You will only have to suffer my company for a few hours this afternoon. And then at meals, which I will take with you. The rest of the time. I trust you will be comfortable enough in here.”

Mary slowly lowered herself to the seat. Resigned that she was stuck with the brute, she allowed herself to sit, but she would not do away with the trappings of her outer coat in the presence of this practical stranger.

She cast about the small space, there was not room for her trunks.

“Where are my trunks? My traveling items?”

He shrugged. “Baggage car I would assume.”

“And they’ll be delivered when?”

Marshall Hunt let out a sharp derisive laugh. “How did you manage to get from San Francisco to Chicago?”

She sat up straight and lifted her nose to him. “Not with a man in my chambers, that’s how!”

 

Keep reading with Chapter 8!
©2019 Lulu M. Sylvian

Happy 1-year Book Birthday Longing

On this day last year Longing was released!

Longing-solo

Shane bumped Justin’s arm with his knee, causing the kid to lose control of his game character.

“Hey, what gives?” Justin complained.

“Let’s go for a ride. C’mon.” Shane nodded his head, indicating they needed to leave. “We need to talk.”

Justin whined, “You’re not gonna talk to me about my dick, are you?”

Shane laughed. “The only dick we’re gonna talk about is your dad. Let’s go.”

Justin shrugged and powered off his game.

Shane drove for about twenty minutes in silence before Justin started talking.

“So I thought you and Mom broke up.”

“We just had an argument, man. It happens.” Shane suppressed a smile. It was good that Justin had started talking. All his informal therapy sessions with Melinda had taught him that much.

“But you didn’t come back. I didn’t think you were gonna.”

“J-man, me and your mom go way back. And I always come back around. Always. You’re my family. You, Stacey, your mom, a little argument isn’t going to drive me away for very long.”

“Then why is Dad divorcing us? We’re his family, and he’s just walking away from us. He’s being mean about it too.”

Justin turned and stared out the window. He shrugged and adjusted in his seat. Shane figured he was wiping at tears. This was all too much for the kid to handle. He didn’t need to hear what Shane thought of the man. He didn’t deserve to be their father. He didn’t deserve their tears.

“Dogstar wasn’t there when we got back. Mom took him to the vet, huh?”

“Yeah, J-man. She got him back home where he belongs.” Shane felt that was about right. He was with them where he belonged.

They pulled into a parking lot in front of a stucco building with a low tile roof. Shane cut the engine off.

“What are we doing here?” Justin looked eagerly from the building to Shane.

“Well, your mom thought that maybe…” Shane shrugged.

“I can get a dog?”

Shane nodded.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Justin ran inside the Humane Society office, leaving Shane to follow him.

The house smelled like garlic and onions when they got home.

“Stacey, get down here!” Justin yelled as soon as they walked in the door.

Lucy came into the living room first. She looked around, and her eyes fell on a carrier case. “I thought you were going to bring home a dog, not a cat.”

“Cats,” Shane corrected.

“You got cats?” Stacey asked as she walked down the stairs.

She went straight to the carrier and peeked inside. She lifted one black-and-white cat out. The animal shivered as she sat and cooed at it, stroking its fur. Justin lifted out a second cat, this one whiter with black markings. The kids sat and held their new charges.

Lucy pulled Shane aside. “What have you done?”

“We got a beautiful little girl,” Shane practically purred. “She looks like an Australian shepherd. It was love at first sight. They let Justin meet a few dogs, but she crawled right in his lap. She’s getting fixed in the morning, and we’ll pick her up after school. The cats were Justin’s idea. He thought Stacey would like the cats.”

Lucy slid into his arms. She felt so right.

“Justin was right, she’s gonna love those cats.”

©2018 Lulu M Sylvian

Read it now
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Dangerous, release a year ago today!

dangerous-tiltFamily goof-off and all-around playboy Dante has been tasked with finding the missing branches of the family tree. It’s a big tree, but luckily he’s a trained investigator. What he finds instead is Geena. Only she doesn’t understand how important she is to him and she’s slipped through his fingers. Now he wants to drop all his responsibilities and track her down.

Geena’s traveling companions are the trifecta of feminine beauty. They are thin, rich, and stylish. Everything she is not. She’s shocked when the hot guy starts hitting on her. What she doesn’t know yet is that Dante isn’t just a guy. And to him, she’s not just another in a long string of women in his loose past.

Dante has seen the mate glow and he knows what it means. He needs to convince Geena that this time he’s serious. At the same time, he needs to keep his new family members in check before they blow the family lore wide open and expose their secret.

Now Available as ebook

AMAZON •  KOBO •  NOOK •  IBOOKS • GOOGLE

An Improper Derailment Chapter 5

living-room-581073_640

Chapter 5… In which Mary would rather travel without a proper companion in Marshal Hunt’s company than be in the same parlor with Pythagorus a moment longer.

Marshall Hunt took over the entire chamber. Mary couldn’t take her eyes from him. He not only physically filled the space, but his presence also sucked the oxygen out of the room. Mary found it difficult to breathe.

Charles and Pythagorus kept taunting him with stupid questions. They were all stupid questions.

Mary worried her hands together.

How could her grandfather have sent such a man to escort her back to San Francisco? Didn’t that old man understand just how inappropriate all of this was?

“Mr. Hunt,” she finally brought herself to ask the one question that she could not fathom.

“How exactly did my grandfather come to have you in his employment?”

He turned and leveled his gaze on her. She sucked in her breath as those blue eyes looked over her. Her entire body thrummed with the power he emitted. And she was to be in his company for a full week.

This was unconscionable, how dare her grandfather not hire a proper escort like a matronly widow?

“Miss, Mr. Dryer hired me while I stood in his parlor. Our fairs are paid for, and we have separate staterooms. My job is to make sure you get from place A to place B. You will be safe.”

“I think we must object to this,” Janey finally contributed something to Mary’s situation. Unfortunately, she wasn’t effectively helping Mary.

“I could go with. Another person to ensure of Miss Mary’s security.”

Mary cut a hard glare across the room at Pythagorus. Marshall Hunt made her nervous, but Pythagorus now turned her stomach. And to think that even before lunch this afternoon she was considering him as a potential suitor.

“That’s a brilliant idea. Charles, you go,” Janey said. “Mr. Hunt, your services won’t be required as my husband will escort my sister back to San Francisco.”

Charles coughed uncomfortably. “Janey dearest, I would have to rearrange my appointments.”

“Janey,” Mary said in a scolding tone.

None of this was appropriate: her grandfather contracting with a rough man such as this one that stood before her, Charles choking on his own breath trying to get out of traveling as a guardian, and Pythagorus twirling his mustaches in the corner like some melodrama villain.

“Mr. Hunt, would you object if I found a respectable traveling companion to accompany me on the journey? I doubt you will find my conversation to be passing of interest.”

The tall man nodded, and his eyes flashed an unreasonable blue. “Miss if that would serve your needs to ensure the safety of your person, by all means, secure yourself a traveling companion. But mind you, she needs to be responsible for her own actions. I am not some babysitter of the weaker sex. I am a transporter, and you are a package I have been paid quite well to ensure the safe delivery of.”

Mary grasped her hand on her throat in shock. The crassness of this man discussing payment in company such as this.

“Mary,” Mr. Peterson artfully slid his hand into her free one, and lifted it to his lips.

His heavily waxed mustache tickled the back of her hand, and she unexpectedly let out a giggle. She flushed, not in delight of his touch, but in shame that she displayed such a lack of control.

“Allow me to be the one to deliver you back to San Francisco, and safely to the bosom of your grandfather. Together we can experience this vast country.”

Her gut instinct was to snatch her hand away. Pythagorus was not interested in experiencing anything but what was under her skirts. There was no way she wanted that man anywhere near her while confined on a train.

Slowly, and with a coy smile, she removed her hand from his.

“While I do appreciate your offer, Mr. Peterson, I will decline. Just as it is inappropriate for a young lady of my status to travel unaccompanied with a complete stranger as my escort, I believe it would be beyond scandalous for my escort to be a friend such as yourself. You have business here to attend to. No, I will secure myself a proper lady’s companion, and trust that Mr. Hunt is only concerned with my well being, as a package he is to deliver.”

Pythagorus began huffing and making objecting sounds.

Marshall Hunt cleared his throat.

Mary felt trapped between a snake and a hard place.

“How soon do we leave?”

©2019 Lulu M. Sylvian

need to catch up? Read Chapter Four here!

Ready for more? Read  Chapter 6!

WIP-It Wednesday

stay up for hours just watching her breathe

I didn’t know how to express the feelings I experienced. Hell, they barely felt like feelings. They felt like exhaustion, commitment, obligation. It was slogging and difficult work.

Anything and everything I had done in my life for the past eight years I revisited with tweezers and magnifying glass scrutiny. How could I have changed the outcome? Why didn’t I have the outcome I thought I wanted. How could I go back and change everything?

I began having dreams where I could time travel and now-me would tell past me to make little changes.

I would wake up because I couldn’t breathe.

My apartment felt confining, constricting. I ran outside just to breathe more than once. I had waking nightmares of dropping Myrna. At those times I would look into the side crib, assure myself that everything was alright, and then stay up for hours just watching Myrna breathe. She was here, she was safe.

I hadn’t forgotten to feed her or change her diapers. I hadn’t left her someplace and then not been able to remember.

I started to look up my foibles so many times. Each time I either couldn’t complete filling out the search field, or I would not click on the links.

When I finally clicked on one of the links I fell down a rabbit hole of patient cure thyself bull. Blogs that looked like they had useful articles denied the existence of postpartum depression, others tried to sell me essential oils to get out of my funk. And too many of them assumed I had a partner who could help me with my burden of guilt.

©2019 Lulu M. Sylvian,currently untitled from the Phantom Stars Trilogy

Merry Christmas

12

Merry Christmas for those that celebrate. Happy Tuesday to the rest of you!

On the first day of Christmas Natalie met Chris. Follow them as they find love during the Twelve Date of Christmas
http://lmsylvian.com/the-twelve-dates-of-christmas-christmas-day/