While the Daffodils Danced

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Echelon Press, 2005 - Fiction - 324 pages
2 Reviews
An unexpected pregnancy should have been the worst thing she had to face. Discovering the father was married and unwilling to claim their child, Cara offers her precious baby up for adoption. This ultimate sacrifice forces her to leave the hospital with a grieving heart, carrying nothing but an overnight bag. An artist, haunted by the images of the unknown, Cara finds it impossible to heal. Seeking solace in a field of daffodils, she creates landscapes rich with color and beauty, painting over the grief that discolors her world. In the shadow of her angst, she finds a kindred spirit and forges an unbreakable friendship that sustains her through a broken heart and the betrayal of those she once held dear. As life slips by, Cara wonders if she?ll ever find peace or the ability to forgive herself the past. Will spring deliver on its promise of rebirth and renewal, or is it just coincidence that Cara's beloved daffodils are symbols of hope?

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Review: While the Daffodils Danced

User Review  - kim - Goodreads

I wavered between a 3 and a 4 for this book. I would have given 3-1/2 if possible, but settled on a 3, because the book is a little slow and boring for about the first 1/3 of the book. If you make it ... Read full review

Review: While the Daffodils Danced

User Review  - Karen Syed - Goodreads

Publisher's Note: When I met this author at a writers conference we got along very well. She is a warm, almost delicate type, with a lot of spunk! I took her submission to read and then things got ... Read full review

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Contents

Section 1
1
Section 2
11
Section 3
16
Copyright

37 other sections not shown

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About the author (2005)

At thirty-five I began this new journey. After tucking the children into bed, I'd write into the early morning hours. Fatigue elbowed gourmet meals aside. The words, "Would you like a lemon-basil marinade on your chicken?" soon turned to, "What would you like on your hotdog?" Scrapbook pictures piled up along with the laundry. Hairstyles and cosmetics became optional. I pecked at the keyboard night after night and soon had my first fifty pages in hand. They felt like the start of something real. This new world beckoned and, surprisingly, writing came naturally. I looked at life through a writer's eyes and listened with a writer's ears. I pulled out threads from all of life's experiences and wove them into a rich tapestry. In those late hours, my words opened windows and I flew into a long denied horizon.

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