I have never been accused of witchcraft,
though I might have been if I’d been unlucky enough to be born in medieval
times when anyone deemed “different” was suspect. I’ve never been forced to
dress as a leper to run from a witch hunter
or stumbled into a mystical forest
like Dragonswood where fey folk and dragons dwell the way Tess does in my novel.
But all stories are in some way about survival, about who we are,
where we come from, where we truly belong. And, like Tess, I’ve hungered to
find my place, longed for true family, lost more than I’d ever hoped to, and
made heart-rending sacrifices to help those I love.
Like Tess I’ve tried to
find happiness, to craft a good life from what clay I’ve been given. Tess is
braver than I am. Journeying with her, I can only hope some of her bravery has
rubbed off.
Posts
