October Daffodil
By: Richard Malloy
Released February 15, 2017
Soul Mate Publishing
Every autumn after the first frost, hundreds of resplendent daffodils bloom behind the old gristmill. Teens Dick Ladson and Callie Ewing will always remember the moonlit haven where they loved, hoped, and dreamt.
In October 1960, they defy Callie’s controlling mother, vowing to share a life together. “Let’s lie in the mill flowers ’til it’s time for you to go,” Callie whispers, her words garbled with sobs. They exchange poignant goodbyes, hoping his enlistment in the Army will provide the means for their marriage. As they face an uncertain future, will the strength of their love survive?
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In October 1960, they defy Callie’s controlling mother, vowing to share a life together. “Let’s lie in the mill flowers ’til it’s time for you to go,” Callie whispers, her words garbled with sobs. They exchange poignant goodbyes, hoping his enlistment in the Army will provide the means for their marriage. As they face an uncertain future, will the strength of their love survive?
Link to Follow Tour: http://tastybooktours.com/tours-master/2017/3/13/october-daffodil-richard-malloy
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34318825-october-daffodil
Buy Links:
AMAZON
Dick’s thoughts returned to the present. The geese continued chanting, and the watermill continued trickling, echoing peaceful rings throughout the village. Pleasant October breezes caused colorful maple leaves to flutter to the ground.
It had been the most exciting day of his life. He looked forward to going to the cabin the following morning, but for now he couldn’t stop thinking about Callie. He stared at her house a few yards away, hoping to catch a glimpse of her passing by a window, but she never came into view.
When he went to his room, he doodled around with a few lines of verse while visualizing her hurried glance through the boughs of the butterfly bush.
Was she an angel in disguise
That she may flaunt such azure eyes
A single glimpse of her hauntingly
Etched deeply in my reverie
He knew beyond doubt that he’d found the mysterious girl he longed to meet. But, what will tomorrow bring? Will she feel the same? Will we walk along the river? Will she be my steady girl, or am I just a passing craze? Will I remain mesmerized by her, or will I suddenly wake from a wonderful dream? I’ve got to be with her, touch her, kiss her.
Meanwhile, Mally Wrinn sat on her porch swing at the end of the street and wrote the first lines of a new love story.
‘The majestic hummingbird winged in slow-motion above the handsome stranger, as if conducting a melodic overture in the prelude of a classic love saga.
His cerulean eyes savored a glimpse of an enchanting face amidst the amethyst butterfly blossoms before she vanished mysteriously into the gathering of spectators marveling at the great flock of Canadian geese alighting around the magnificent watermill.
He snubbed the flock the crowd admired and sought the one he most desired. Damsel to damsel, his eyes frisked them over like bees fox-trotting from clover to clover. ‘She’s there!’’
It had been the most exciting day of his life. He looked forward to going to the cabin the following morning, but for now he couldn’t stop thinking about Callie. He stared at her house a few yards away, hoping to catch a glimpse of her passing by a window, but she never came into view.
When he went to his room, he doodled around with a few lines of verse while visualizing her hurried glance through the boughs of the butterfly bush.
Was she an angel in disguise
That she may flaunt such azure eyes
A single glimpse of her hauntingly
Etched deeply in my reverie
He knew beyond doubt that he’d found the mysterious girl he longed to meet. But, what will tomorrow bring? Will she feel the same? Will we walk along the river? Will she be my steady girl, or am I just a passing craze? Will I remain mesmerized by her, or will I suddenly wake from a wonderful dream? I’ve got to be with her, touch her, kiss her.
Meanwhile, Mally Wrinn sat on her porch swing at the end of the street and wrote the first lines of a new love story.
‘The majestic hummingbird winged in slow-motion above the handsome stranger, as if conducting a melodic overture in the prelude of a classic love saga.
His cerulean eyes savored a glimpse of an enchanting face amidst the amethyst butterfly blossoms before she vanished mysteriously into the gathering of spectators marveling at the great flock of Canadian geese alighting around the magnificent watermill.
He snubbed the flock the crowd admired and sought the one he most desired. Damsel to damsel, his eyes frisked them over like bees fox-trotting from clover to clover. ‘She’s there!’’
A late-bloomer in the world of writing, author Richard Malloy never dotted a fictional ‘i’ before the age of fifty. As a youngster, he bounced around southern Indiana like a chaotic Ping-pong ball, always landing on the poor side of the tracks everywhere from the now ghost hamlet of Ewing to the Indiana Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Children’s Home near Knightstown and many spots in between. At seventeen, he struck out on his own and enlisted in the U.S. Army.
Following his military service, he worked in construction, eventually becoming a factory supervisor while raising his family. Reaching middle age, his lifelong dream of trying to learn the art of writing finally came to light.
Learning that the future of the company he worked for was in question after all his struggles to keep it afloat, he stared out the office window into the gloomy, rainy weather and muttered, ‘Sometimes on a rainy day, I’d just like to chuck it all’ . . . and that was the start of his first poem, Rainy Day.
After the publication of his poem, The Spiraling, Richard began writing his first novel, October Daffodil, and he plans to write many more stories.
Author Links:
FACEBOOK | GOODREADS
Following his military service, he worked in construction, eventually becoming a factory supervisor while raising his family. Reaching middle age, his lifelong dream of trying to learn the art of writing finally came to light.
Learning that the future of the company he worked for was in question after all his struggles to keep it afloat, he stared out the office window into the gloomy, rainy weather and muttered, ‘Sometimes on a rainy day, I’d just like to chuck it all’ . . . and that was the start of his first poem, Rainy Day.
After the publication of his poem, The Spiraling, Richard began writing his first novel, October Daffodil, and he plans to write many more stories.
Author Links:
FACEBOOK | GOODREADS
