Candace Meredith earned her Bachelor of Science degree in English Creative Writing from Frostburg State University in the spring of 2008. Her works of poetry, photography and fiction have appeared in literary journals Bittersweet, Backbone Mountain Review, Anthology 17, Greensilk Journal, Saltfront and The Broadkill Review. She currently works as a Freelance Editor for an online publishing company and has earned her Master of Science degree in Integrated Marketing and Communications (IMC) from West Virginia University.
Here is an excerpt from Candace’s New Book Winter Solstice
On the second day, her mother Hanna anointed her skin with lavender and chamomile oils to ward off the evil that exists. She first cleansed the oils over candlelight from any impurities that may harm her daughter knowing that the ancient souls reside within her; the dualism of masculine and feminine and good versus evil is signified by the mark upon her wrist. She then blessed the ointments with an enchanted mantra she hummed like a lullaby. The enchantment om-mani-padmi-om pleased the ancients within; Hanna saw the spark of fire from the Phoenix twinkle in her daughter’s eye. She then rubbed a vanishing cream onto her mark to disguise Alysiah’s eternal nature and dressed her in a soft pink gown wrapped in a white satin blanket; she rocked her to sleep humming to her once again as her daughter’s eyes went shut, Hanna could feel the warmth of her body growing stronger, warmer and brighter.
Emanating around them is a soft white light that spirals above, swirling in a clockwise pattern – guests in her house paying them a visit; they can sense and feel the presence of an eternal soul confined in the birth of the child. The white light represents the ever-after as being present in the physical realm. Her mother places a bonnet upon her head and cradles her daughter closely, basking in the warmth of radiant energy – nearing the beginning of the new century when the veil between the two worlds is at its thinnest and when evocation of the souls can take precedence – inviting them in – the protectors of the baby with the ancient soul.
“You are my daughter,” her mother says, gazing into the face of a sleeping baby, “I will call you Aly my dear sweet daughter,” and with that the day turns to night and the turn of the century takes place with the noise of the New Year outside her window in the brick home they share in the quaint downtown district of New Town.
On the first day of the New Year, her mother is startled by a knock on the door as the white omnipresent light recedes from the room her mother feels the sterile vacancy of the absence of radiant energy and opens the front door.
Continued in book . . .
Visit Candace’s Author Page To Order Your Copy Today!
Categories: Featured Writer's