Stolen Moments

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A matronly wife slowly eases her legs over the edge of the pillow top mattress. She silently touches the floor with her naked feet. Slowly she leaves the comfort of her bed and the security of her husband?s arms. It?s very early, the birth of a new dawn not yet conceived. The lady sneaks away into the early morning hours, she is to meet her lover for a few stolen moments.

Lightly she strokes. Holding all dreams of the future in her hands, she touches, and closes her eyes. She is lost in the night. Swept away on a path to the unknown. Where will this coupling lead? Where will it end, another land, south to the sea or north to the hills? Will she float upon a cresting wave or sit upon the highest mountain? Will she drown in the depths or soar with the eagles? Whose lives will be touched by this union? Will the world be better for the knowing?

The wife opens her eyes and stares at the pages. Again she strokes the sheet as if it were a favorite pet or a cherished lover. She brings the paper down to her lap and lets her mind stray. Away from her comfortable home, far from her resting husband. She drifts away on a rendezvous with fate. To what end no one knows, not even herself?

The above is kind of like the way my life is. No, there isn?t a secret beau. But I do ?court? with the idea of running away with my pad and pencil. As a writer, I am always trying to find moments to pen down my thoughts. And sometimes I do feel as if I am cheating. I may be in the same room with my husband, listening to stories about his golf game or watching television, my body may be there, but more often than not my mind is far away. It is building a scene for my next story, or creating a new character.

I am passionate about my writing. I take it very seriously. I want every word to have meaning. I long for people to be touched by what the voices in my head have to say. I?d like to think there is purpose to what I am doing. I want you, as readers to know my heart through what I write. I want you to feel the pain of my characters hurt and the joy of their pleasure.

I am now head over hills in love with my present obsession, ?The River Keeper.?? It really is as if I am being drawn away by its essence. The allure of it taking me from the present world and sitting me right smack dab in the middle of the year 1940, and the great ice dam break on the New River in Alleghany County. I long to hide away inside myself with the main character, Callie Mae McCauley, a little girl who lost everything that day in early March. What will happen as the words of her life gather on my pages?

The setting of my novels become my home and the characters my family. The people in them get up with me every morning, stay close by me as the day progresses and then they lie down with me every night. As this fourth novel is sprouting I feel it might just be my best work yet. As with the flood of 1940, when the rain pelted down on that dreaded day I too am swept off my feet. Washed away from the present, drifting along on a wave of dreams, searching for a few stolen moments with Callie Mae, Granny Jane and Chloe.

Shush. Don?t tell anyone about my latest love affair. It?s our secret. Okay?

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