If you are one of my two regular readers, or if you came here via a link regarding the Jane Austen Made Me Do It anthology, you no doubt already know that, as the grand prize winner, my story, “The Love Letter” was included in this amazing book.  This came about as the result of a contest that I entered in early 2011.   And after all the time of anticipation, release day has come.

At the beginning of September, it was publicly announced that I had won the contest.  It was an indescribable feeling of joy and enthusiasm to know that thousands of readers will read “The Love Letter” and, hopefully, enjoy it.

Around this time, I lost a person very dear to me.  My big brother passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly.  When I learned of the news, it felt like being hit with a 2 x 4.  I dropped everything and went out of state to be with my family.  Hence the reason I have been silent on this blog and elsewhere.  I’m still struggling to find words.  And yes, that means in my fiction-writing as well.

September has passed.  But my family’s grief—and that of his many friends—will only fade slowly.  He is missed.  Dearly.  But we think of him every day.  And will continue to do so.

In an anthology, there is no opportunity for a contributor to post a dedication.  So I make my dedication here:

I dedicate my story to my brother.  In loving memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Below, I included a touching song written and performed by Tori Amos that she wrote when her older brother died in a car accident.  Ironically, the cathedral she mentions at the end of the song, La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, I once visited many years ago with my brother.

The lyrics to “Toast” by Tori Amos

I thought it was Easter time
The way the light rose
Rose that morning
Lately you’ve been on my mind
You showed me the rope
Ropes to climb
Over mountains
And to pull myself
Out of a landslide
Of a landslide

I thought it was harvest time
You always loved the smell of the wood burning
She with her honey hair
Dalhousie Castle
She would meet you there
In the winter
Butter yellow
The flames you stirred
Yes, you could stir

I raise a glass
Make a toast
A toast in your honor
I hear you laugh
And beg me not to dance
On your right standing by
Is Mr. Bojangles
With a toast he’s telling me it’s time
To raise a glass
Make a toast
A toast in your honor
I hear you laugh and beg me not to dance
On your right standing is
Mr. Bojangles
With a toast he’s telling me it’s time
To let you go
Let you go

I thought I’d see you again
You said you might do
Maybe in a carving
In a cathedral
Somewhere in Barcelona

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