Wedding At Wildwood
She hadn't planned on coming back to Wildwood. But now that she was here, Isabel Landry realized she also hadn't planned on the surge of emotions pouring over her like a warm summer rain as she stood looking up at the stark white mansion.
Wildwood.
The house, built sometime before the Civil War, was old and rundown now. Abandoned and gloomy. And so very sad.
But then, most of her memories of growing up on this land made Isabel feel sad and forlorn, too. Staring across the brilliant field of colorful wildflowers in shades of pink, yellow and fuchsia, she clicked her camera, focusing on the old house, deliberately blurring the pink phlox, purple heather, and yellow blackeyed Susans that posed a sharp contrast to the wilted condition of the once grand mansion. Now shuttered and closed, its paint peeling and its porches overgrown with ivy and wisteria, the house with the fat Doric columns and the wide, cool verandas on each floor didn't seem as formidable as it had so long ago.
Isabel had never lived in Wildwood, but oh, how she'd dreamed of living in just such a house one day. Now, she saw that fantasy as silly, fueled by the imaginat ... read full excerpt from: Wedding at Wildwood ebook
