This was written as folklore for a novel I’m writing. It’s supposed to be a song.
The lady of the brook
Sees the moon—he creeps above,
Dancing on her surface.
O! what could it be but love?
The lady of the brook
Waits each night for his return,
Never knowing that for her
His heart will never yearn.
Hello,
Welcome to my cozy corner of the internet. This blog will be dedicated to all things books and reading, which happen to be my obsessions. Note the faint scent of coffee in the air; coffee is a must for me.
I will be sharing book reviews for reads that I enjoy. I’ll also be posting updates about my life as an indie author. Since I’m exploring the classics, expect the occasional poem or short piece as I experiment.
For centuries, land-bound descendants of Merpeople have been confined to hidden districts. Read The Sea Rose and sequel The Sea King if you wish to read their stories.
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Miss Marjorie Brahms, daughter of a mysterious wizard known by the townsfolk as Bamoy, is having a bizarre autumn. Her father, Johann, had reasons for purchasing an abandoned house situated in the middle of a graveyard in which to raise his family. That did not mean that evil spirits could never find them.
Mariella Hunt 
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