Delia Colvin Fans & Book Lovers Club discussion
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Jessica wrote: "Every one has a writer in them. The love to read brings forth the love and creativity to write. This is what Delia was talking about fan fiction. I wrote this beginning as a Drabble challenge and a..."
AWESOME Jessica! Very intriguing!
AWESOME Jessica! Very intriguing!
It's actually a bit difficult for to write this. I have to connect with the character to get the ball rolling and this guy is depressed. It's going to be a future project that I'm going to collaborate with my husband. He's either going to be military or law enforcement. Since hubby is both he's going to help me out. Right now I'm doing a PNR. I got over 8k words at the moment.
Holy cow I am totally drawn in! Any time you feel like adding Jessica, I think we are all intrigued.
Thank u Sherry. I'm sure you and hubby will like it. Your pic shows that he is a a Marine or Army?
Wonderful! Tell him I'm glad for him serving our country! My husband also was in the Army. He's discharged so I don't have to worry about deployment anymore. But he did operation Iraqi freedom and operation enduring freedom in 2004






No tittle yet.
It was a beautiful night as James sat in the backyard overlooking the lake. The full moon illuminated the black waters. Fog rolled in over the land bringing with it an eerie feel that perfectly matched his mood. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. What he saw made him gasp. It was the ghost of his wife frolicking in the meadow wearing her favorite satin blue dress with the matching ribbon in her hair. The scene reminded him of good times.
She noticed him watching her and blew a kiss before turning into mist once again.
Slumped on the lawn chair James pondered the recent events. Was he going crazy? Because ghosts can’t be real. So many emotions are swarming in his head that only alcohol can dissipate. The strongest was his sorrow and guilt. It’s been a year; anyone else would have persevered past this stage of mourning. Standing up he dragged his feet back inside the house grabbing a bottle of jack on the way to the couch. The whisky helped numb his body and mind. Subconsciously he reached for the smith and Wesson resting in the side table drawer. Soon it will end.
James was still for what seemed like an eternity. Bent over, elbows resting on his knees. A whisky bottle in one hand and gun in the other. Thought only on his beautiful Maria and his selfishness that lead to her tragic demise. He would give anything in the world to be able to trade his life for hers. It’s too late for that now. She is six feet under and he’s just there, wasting air. With determination he raised the gun to his temple and pulled the hammer back with an ominous click. He murmured to himself, “Please forgive me”.