“She didn't look up, her gaze focused entirely on the paper before her as she drew what looked like a wing. He picked up one of the papers from the floor, and on it was a butterfly, the colors a… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share Image
“The hill between the manor and forest displayed layers of Lady Croft's prized gardens. Paved pathways wove through a formal Italian garden, rose garden, water garden, lily pond, and a tulip garden built around Roman ruins. Maggie stood beside a statue of the goddess Hemera and a row of yew bushes that had been neatly pruned into a wall to… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share
“That's what she wanted more than anything. To be free of her anger. Wounds.” — Melanie Dobson Copy Share Image
“When she was a child, she'd often wondered about the old manor. Some said the place was haunted, but she thought it mysterious. Sometimes when she was a girl, she would wander through the wrought-iron gate along Ladenbrooke's stone wall. The fragrance from flowers on the other side captivated her along with the beauty of the gardens. The butterflies reminded… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share
“He unzipped the nylon case, and inside was a discolored frame that smelled like smoke. A thin layer of soot covered the painting under the glass- a picture of an old manor house. Gothic Victorian. Wisteria climbed the wall near the entrance, the pale-lavender blossoms clinging to the gray stone. The artist had brushed flowers below the windows as well,… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share
“With all the flourishes and flowers, these pictures seemed to be created by a young woman anyway. At least one who was young at heart. Heather turned the page again to a pink butterfly named Rosa Belle, and she smiled as she read the description. Rosa Belle was a very proper butterfly, invited often to take tea with the queen… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share
“With a quick thank-you, I focused my attention on the pastry he brought. The flavors melted in my mouth- warm chocolate and melted butter… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share Image
“With my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I retrieved the tray of food, placed it on the coffee table, and breathed in the aromas of dark espresso and apple butter. Piled onto the tray was a basket of warm croissants, prosciutto sliced so thin it looked like pink tissue paper, slices of honeydew melon, and little white tubs with… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share
“She returned to the floor, and a tray appeared beside her with a sandwich, glass of milk, and some cubes of cantaloupe. She didn't know who brought it in, but she picked up a piece of the cantaloupe and examined it. The color matched some of the roses in the lady's garden, exactly what she needed for the flowers she'd… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share
“Christopher Westcott slowly drank his pint of ale at the Bird and Baby, as locals liked to call the Eagle and Child, and basked… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share Image
“The title on the front of the sketchbook was written in bold cursive: 'Libby's Book of Butterflies.' One of the edges was folded, and… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share Image
“In seconds, the room flooded with wide-eyed girls wanting to meet the artist of the butterfly stories. Stories about healing and redemption. Love and… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share Image
“Ella woke again as they entered the picturesque village of Bibury. A stone bridge arched over the placid River Coln, and Ella craned her… — Melanie Dobson Copy Share Image
