The other day, I got to meet one of my subscribers! It was a wonderful experience and we really hit it off. And it reminded me that she sent me some fan art pictures! And I never shared them with you! So today, I’m going to share them with you! And as a bonus, you also get an excerpt from A Song of Home! I hope you enjoy!
Hope G. and her brother Noah have just started reading my books this year. Noah loves Legos so he and Hope decided to do a few scenes from my books!
Didn't they do such a good job?! All the attention to detail is just so amazing to me! Straight down to the hope chest and the hair colors! Thank you, Noah and Hope!
And now for a book excerpt!
January 28th, 1864
The Rains Family Estate
“My life is meaningless.”
You’ve got that right, Jennifer Rains thought as her cousin Constance Angelica Tinderman threw herself down onto the sofa. You have no goals in life other than fault finding.
“You can change that,” Jenny replied, eyes remaining on her book of poetry.
“Of course I can,” Constance pouted. “But how? That is the problem. What can I do?”
“Read a book,” Jenny replied, only half interested in aiding her spoiled cousin in bettering herself. She was far more interested in The Midnight Ride.
Constance scowled. “Reading a book is no way to do something with my life.”
“Of course it is.” Irene Rains entered the room with much effort. Jennifer’s sister-in-law was great with child, and all the full skirts in the world couldn’t hide that; her walk was more of a waddle at this point. “Reading takes you places you’d never know about otherwise. Books help men become preachers, doctors, lawyers, even better farmers!” She paused, staring off towards the window. “Books can teach you everything there is to know, pretty much.”
Constance was not impressed. “I am not interested in any of those professions, Irene. I am a lady. How can I make something of myself when the only people allowed to do so are men?”
“You don’t have to be known to make something of yourself,” Irene drawled in her soft Tennessee accent. “Behind every good gentleman, there is a good lady. You can be the rock your husband leans on that pushes him to succeed. His achievements are yours. You can raise children who will shape history!”
“You should be a writer,” Jenny added, waving her book in the air. “Harriet Beecher Stowe is and look at the results.”
Yes, a deepened rift between the North and South, Irene mused. Although married to a Union soldier, she didn’t appreciate Mrs. Stowe’s writings. “I don’t think Constance would want to be that kind of a writer. Maybe…maybe you could compose music. You’re already good at that.”
Jenny glanced at Constance and frowned. This compliment was what Constance wanted. She was good at composition; she had over a dozen magnificent pieces to her credit. All she wanted was for someone else praise her for the genius she knew she possessed. Constance was like that; she needed to be appreciated and petted sometimes…nearly all the time.
The smug smile on her face was not lost on Irene. Frankly, she was sick of being played with to soothe Constance. “You know what? You shouldn’t be a composer. You need something that gratifies you with no applause from others. I know! You should be a teacher. They shape lives and help change the world, but for the most part, they are ignored by the public. That would be better for someone with your rare abilities!”
With that, Irene left the room.
Constance narrowed her eyes. “What was that supposed to mean?”
Jenny, a smile playing at her lips, replied, “That, my dear, was a brave woman.”
 A Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, chronicling (though not accurately) the midnight ride of Paul Revere. Published January, 1861.
 Author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Pink and White Tyranny.
And that's all I have for you today!
Until Next Time,
Christian. American. Southern. Author.
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