It’s a remembrance blend – Memory House

April 8, 2016 #fridayfiction 0

Memory House

Memory House

Series: Memory House Collection, Book 1
Publisher: Bent Pine Publishing
ISBN: 9780996080361
IS IT POSSIBLE FOR A MEMORY TO OUTLIVE ITS OWNER?

Overview

Available on Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, GooglePlay – CLICK HERE

IS IT POSSIBLE FOR A MEMORY TO OUTLIVE ITS OWNER?

Ophelia Browne knows the answer is yes. She knows because she’s been granted the unique gift of finding and caring for forgotten memories. But now she’s nearing ninety, and Browne women seldom live beyond such an age.

Before time runs out Ophelia must find her successor…someone who can carry forth the gift and keep the memories from fading. When broken-hearted Annie Cross shows up on the doorstep of The Memory House Bed and Breakfast, Ophelia knows she is the one.

As the two women sip dandelion tea and share stories, Annie begins to uncover new memories. Ugly ones. Ones buried deep enough to hide the scars. Excitement turns to fear when a thread of violence begins to unravel and Ophelia knows they have gone too far.

Literary Awards for Memory House –

FAPA President’s Book Award

Praise for Memory House –

“A magical book of memories, treasures and stories from a Masterful Southern Storyteller…” Judith D. Collins, top 1000 Reviewer

“Magical realism that will enchant…” Heidi, Rainy Day Ramblings

“Wonderful, heartwarming story of love and life…” Sherry Fundin, Reviewer

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Email: betteleecrosby@gmail.com

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Other Books in "Memory House Collection":

It’s a remembrance blend – Memory House

Ophelia can see the weary look on the girl’s face. “No need to apologize. I’ve got no other guests tonight, so there’s plenty of room.”

Annie smiles, introduces herself and then follows the woman into the center hall. As they walk toward the back rooms, Annie catches the scent of something sweet— roses maybe or gardenias. It would be two, possibly three months before such flowers would bloom in Philadelphia, but she’d traveled south so conceivably…

“Is that roses I smell?” she asks.

Ophelia gives a soft chuckle. “No, that’s my potpourri.” She points a gnarled finger toward the glass bowl sitting atop a tiny three-legged table.

“Oh.” Annie nods. “Made from dried roses?”

Ophelia shakes her head. “No roses. It’s mostly passion flower and vanilla.”

Annie takes a deep breath. “Funny, I don’t smell vanilla at all.”

“You wouldn’t unless vanilla was your favorite fragrance. It’s a remembrance blend. It reminds you of something that’s brought happiness.”

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