Posted in Author, Books, Characters, Fireflies, Historical Fiction, Quotes, Writing

Quotes and excerpts from some of my favorite scenes from “Fireflies.”

There are some scenes in my books that flowed seamlessly and others that took much longer to come to me. Either way, there were some that I took a great deal of care with because they touched my heart. Here are just a few excerpts from some of those scenes:

Fagan was for the first time in his life, taken completely by surprise and he was unguarded and unprepared for such a thrill. “Oh Mary Olsen I do love you with all of my heart,” he thought to himself as he glanced over at her dainty profile peeking out from beneath her bonnet. He watched her pout as she spoke and committed to his memory every wave and shade of gold in her hair, as it flowed from beneath the cream colored cloth of her bonnet, downward to her bustle.

“There it is Fagan. Can you hear the water flowing? It’s just beyond those trees,” Mary said as she released his arm and dodged ahead of him a few paces. They’d never travelled alone this far before. She passed through the leaves looking more like that garden fairy than ever. “Come Fagan!” she added as he caught up to her and she reached out and took his hand, just as the foliage opened to a freshwater stream a few yards away. A low thin branch had taken his hat but it was a small sacrifice to make as not to let go Mary Olsen’s hand.

*****************************************

It seemed hours had passed when Teagan awoke, lying face down clutching the bloody dishcloth. She blinked open her eyes and raised her head to find Ennis, sitting next to her, expressionless.

“Ennis, did I die?”

“No Teagan, you lived,” Ennis smiled.

Teagan pushed herself up facing Ennis and the room began to come back into focus. She yet heard the soft singing outside and the aroma of eggs and bacon from breakfast still hung in the air, although now slightly tainted with the scent of iron. Her eyes travelled down over the bloodied apron, still draped over her clothes. The sight of this startled her to her feet and as she stood, she pulled the dishcloth up to her face, still saturated with her blood and she stared in horror at the trail of red droplets leading from the dish basin to the doorway of the kitchen, which had begun to thicken and dry.

***************************************

Dillon stood down, looking up at her from below. His eyebrows rose with shock when Sarah tossed her riding skirt and he caught a brief glimpse of her soft leather chamois breeches.

“Never mind. No harm’s been done. Make sure there’s carrots for him here when I return. He likes carrots after a ride,” Sarah said, trying to keep their conversation simple.

“Yes Ma’am.”

Dillon smiled and turned, then jogged toward the barn.

“Oh and Dillon?!” she shouted, pointing her crop like a sword toward her bedroom window as Rascal walked anxiously in a circle. “I don’t know what you think you saw this mornin’ but that was an accident that won’t be happenin’ again and it’s best if you just forget about it.”

“Why I don’t know what ya’ mean Miss Sarah. The sun was in me eyes. I heard you plain enough though,” Dillon replied throwing Sarah a toothy grin, exposing dimples so deep they’d easily hold a cup of water.

 

 

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Author:

Writer and Artist in no particular order of importance. They hold hands.

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