BUY THIS FULL NOVEL ON KINDLE OR PC WWW.AMAZON.COM CAROUSEL DREAMER BY SHIRLEY B NICHOLS This novel has 332 pages and 23 chapters. Carroltonville, Louisiana, 1888 It was a year ago he saw her first, and struggle as he might, even then determined one day to reach out and touch the elusive glow that blushed those rosy cheeks on her childlike face. How his arms so ached to hold her against his throbbing maleness consuming his strong young body. Instead, he allowed his mind to wallow in the aroma of the clean spring breeze scent surrounding her, once again etching its loveliness ever deeper into his love starved, virginal mind. Even the openness of the park and the brightness of the sunlight couldn't keep him from slipping into the long imagined trips of love and excitement of endless discoveries while her beautiful young body was softly folded in his arms just like when he drifted off at night to dream. Alex Bancroft couldn't remember wanting something so badly he would gladly grovel at her feet, petite feet that hastened her steps carrying her away each week when she left the park and disappeared from his life. Her hair was baby-fine ribbons of sunbeams the color of spun gold, and it swirled about her when breezes blew off the river. He saw her first time in this park, on the bench she now sat. She was lovely and young and seemingly happy. Alex leaned against the old oak tree. Alex jammed his hands in his pockets, yet deeper. They couldn't go much deeper, unless, 'I shove them clear though the bottoms!' All of his young life had been spent subservient to elderly parents, seeing to their needs. And now he was filled with dreams of this elusive girl. He was tempted. What could it hurt? Would he frighten her away? Would she disappear in some dark alley covered with the dense fog floating over cobblestone streets after a summer shower? Alex struggled with his feelings about wanting to touch her and make his presence known. But he didn't. That day he wandered along the river and he entered the park driven by a need to fill the void in his life with something he couldn't quite put his finger on. So deep in thought he had forgotten the world was watching, and they were screaming at him, 'Blooming idiot!' He glanced around hoping his idiocy wasn't showing. He did feel like a blooming idiot. For a year of Sundays he had rushed to the park about to burst like the first rosebud of the season only to rupture into bloom, then leave at dusk feeling wilted and scorched. He had come to the park every week and to watch and even agonized. BUY THIS ON KINDLE AT WWW.AMAZON.COM DOWNLOAD TO YOUR PC sbravearteatel.net Return To Main Page copyright, Aug.21, 2009-2040 S.Barbara/Nichols All rights reserved and No permission granted for copy. may not be copied. .
WWW.AMAZON.COM
DOWNLOAD TO YOUR PC
sbravearteatel.net
Return To Main Page
copyright, Aug.21, 2009-2040 S.Barbara/Nichols