The Summer of Annah
A Midsummer’s Wish
Seasons of Annah Series, Book One
Tinthia
Clemant
Genre: Contemporary Women’s Fiction
* Publisher: River Lady Press
Date of Publication: June 10, 2016
* ISBN: 978-0997437119 * ASIN: B01DDRLARS
Number of pages: 328 * Word Count:
102,000 * Cover Artist: Covers by Karen
Book Description:
“The true love I desire shall come
to me. I am the lock he is the key. As mine to him, his soul shall speak to me.
This I seek, so mote it be.”
When 55-year-old earth-witch,
Annah-Belle Henderson, cast a spell for love she never envisioned her wish
would be granted in the young nephew of her longtime friend. With a face that
rivals the Norse god Thor, and a body to match, the charismatic Eric Ashworth
draws Annah into a dizzying current of emotions. Should she accept the chance
for love with a man twenty years younger or reject her feelings?
As a past darkness threatens to
destroy her, Annah makes a decision that begins a journey fraught with
judgement, betrayal, and perhaps death.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/wSTe12lUUBo
Amazon
Excerpt: Prologue
Excerpt: Prologue
The
orange head of the match ignited with a flash. Slender fingers held it under
the dried kindling. Within seconds, the splintered wood was ablaze, licking up
the sides of an oak log, triggering the release of rose-scented oil. Except for
the glow cast by the blaze, darkness shrouded the night. Brown eyes peered out
from beneath long black bangs. Dressed in white with a pale shawl wrapped
around her shoulders, Annah resembled a specter—one who had traveled from
outside the realm of the living to watch the dance of the flames. She held a
single red rose—an offering for Aphrodite, the Goddess of love.
When
the fire reached its fevered peak, she dropped the rose into the inferno and
murmured, “Aphrodite, accept my gift as I cast my wish on this Midsummer’s
Eve.” The rose stem coiled, and the petals withered under the heat of the
hungry flames.
Annah
slid her hand into the pocket of her pants and removed a piece of green paper,
two cones of sandalwood incense, and five apple seeds. On the paper, in scarlet
ink, were written the words to a love spell. “The true love I desire shall come
to me. I am the lock he is the key. As mine to him, his soul shall speak to me.
This I seek, so mote it be.”
To
reinforce the spell two additional recitations were required. During the second
reading, she allowed the paper to float onto the engulfed log. The incense
cones and seeds followed as she recited the spell a final time. When Annah
ended with ‘so mote it be’ a breeze swept through the fire pit and the flames
extended scorching fingers toward the heavens. Her canine companion released a
soft whimper. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay, Lexy.”
Annah
stared into the blaze. “Druids believe it’s possible to see the faces of loves
and enemies in an enchanted fire. I wonder.” At first she saw just the ravenous
flames but soon an image took shape. A smile emerged. Loving eyes peered back
at her as one of the incense cones exploded, sending hot sparks into the
perfumed air. The smile turned into a sneer as the wail of a lone coyote
pierced the night, bristling her fifty-pound Australian Shepherd’s composure. A
series of responding growls emanated from Lexy, but they did little to assuage
the sense of unease that passed through Annah. She backed away from the
chimenea and sat on the nearby stone bench. “Probably best to leave the fire
reading to the Druids.”
Next
to the bench rested a small wicker basket. Its contents, in addition to the
bottle of rose oil, included a thermos, teacup, and her cell phone. Annah
dropped the box of matches into the basket and withdrew her phone. With a swipe
of the screen, she found the song she wanted to play. While the voice of Etta
James accompanied her Annah opened the thermos and poured amber-colored liquid,
still steamy and hot, into the cup. Before taking a sip, she raised it high,
toasted the Goddess, and then bid the ashes that ascended into the starlit sky
success as they delivered her wish. The current returned and spiraled within
the fire. It carried the scented heat toward her, enveloping her in its warm embrace.
It
was past one when Annah switched off the bedside lamp and lay in the darkened
bedroom. Behind her bed, an open window granted access to the night air. A
quiet breeze breathed life into the backyard’s wind chimes. Entering the room,
it carried a subtle hint of sandalwood on its gentle waves. Circling Annah, it
stroked her cheeks, softly caressing her lips. Entering that hazy place between
dreams and reality, her mind gave shape to her last thought of the day. This
will be my summer, a summer for true love.
Tinthia
Clemant was born in Medford, Massachusetts, over sixty years ago. In other
words, she's old! As a child, she lived happily in a loving home with her three
siblings and mother and father. She always wrote. From the time she first
picked up a pencil, or perhaps it was a crayon, she wrote. Love stories. Happy
stories. Stories about love with happy endings. Her first book was
self-published. (At the tender age of seven, she stapled the pages together and
presented it to her mother on Mother's Day.)
As
contemporary women's fiction's newest author, Tinthia fell in love with love
stories and true love when she first learned about true love's first kiss. That
did it for her! Unfortunately, she has yet to find that special kiss. Throwing
her arms up in defeat, she decided to write about it and live vicariously
through her characters.
Tinthia
lives on the banks of the Concord River and spends her time teaching science at
a local community college, gardening, painting, feeding her multitude of
Mallards (follow her natural history blog at: concordriverlady.com), reading,
and, of course, writing contemporary women's fiction about romance,
relationships, and true love. She also enjoys Chunky Monkey and American Dream
Cone and other enticing flavors produced by Ben and Jerry.
Website: http://www.tinthiaclemant.com/
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/tinthiaclemant
Twitter: https://twitter.com/riverladypress
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