For the Love of Anny

By Lorena Lovelock

When I was about 13 teen, that my first idea came to me when walking through the old high street, this became miked in with what my gran had told me about grate gran working as a cleaner at the Machen and having to travel there from box village. well this spurred my imagination on. over the years I did suffer a grate loss and have used this emotion and thoughts in the book sometimes writing this book become very difficult as I would start to think about the ones I had lost over the years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524661519

Lorena Lovelock

As a child growing up in the 1980’s, it was a very magical time. I was a very quite child, but this came with somewhat of an advantage, I was very good at listening even dare I admit when i shouldn’t have been i think i know more about my family than anyone else. Anyway most of my, summers were spent outside, with evenings of chatter and telling stories from the past, to spooky story’s and local legends. So you see, this is where my love for story’s began with my little family and i don’t want it to end.

Book preview

AS THE TREES FALL

Walking through the old high street was something, I’d take great pleasure in nearly every Sunday.

You see it would lead up the old cobbled street and round to the church, with the biggest and over powering Manor, house with surrounding grounds, land that are so vast you could lose them in the distance, walk way that rolled on for miles such an inspiration, that would inspire any artist.

My mind would drift to thoughts of times, long be for mine as my shoes tapped on the old cobbled street.

as my mind wondered, I noticed things did not smell so sweet today, there was a sudden commotion, about the street.

there was a clattering sound coming my way, a sudden gush of air whooshed past me like someone tried to push me over.

this quit took my breath away for a moment, it took me a moment or two, to gather myself back together.

things looked misty, not as they should as I glanced round everything became clear even though my heart was pounding and my breathing quickened.

my dress was suddenly long and so very much not 90s nor was anyone else’s, as I glanced about me there were people carrying baskets, pushing wooden trolleys there clothing was something from times long before mine, it was then I could understand what the smell was, as the street was covered in it.

my pace quickened as I suddenly realist, one I had nearly be run over by horse and cart, not to mention, I was not wearing my own clothing this is so not 1990.

what had happened how was I seeing this, quickly I went through the hustle and bustle of the street, round to the church the bells were ringing as I past the grounds of the manor, there was the kissing gates I could see them in the distance, from the pathway of trees leading to the Main gate.

this looked quite strange, but at the same time quit familiar, as the trees were much younger than I was used to, quickly as I dashed past all the tress it was as if they seemed to be getting bigger, the faster I got.

AS THE TRESS FALL

there I was at the gates stopping to catch my breath, glancing up at these gates, always so overpowering in size, as I went through the old kissing gates

the cherry blossom floating as the summer breeze filled the air around me, that’s when I heard it.

hush listen.

My heart was pounding form running it was just starting to slow down but hearing this made it pound even more, as I looked round me but no one was, there any where I could see.

There it was that voice

please just, see my story, tell my story.

That was when, yes a girl, no a young woman in the distance.

Hello. I called out.

That was when it happened, like a gust of air had come out of me and suddenly it was as if I could see myself, looking down at me, but