The Silver Pen
Welcome to The Silver Pen, the heart of my writing world. Here, every shelf holds something different: Victorian romances, fairy-tale fables, gaslamp mysteries, reflections from the forests of Montana and Yellowstone, as well as environmental articles and quiet spiritual musings and occasional book reviews, and my thoughts on being an author.
Choose your path below, and stay as long as you like. There’s always another tale waiting on the next shelf.
You'll find:
The Teacake Gazette - tales of love, mystery, and magic
Truth & Tradition - historical and factual articles in the Victorian and Edwardian eras
Notes From the Tree Line - essays on belonging, nature, and slowing down
Pagan Wellness - spiritual and magical musings and earth-based wellness
Off the Shelf - book reviews and one-off articles or stories that don’t fit elsewhere
(See below for all of my posts.)
Each post is tagged with its world or theme, from fairies and flower lore to forest walks and tarot cards.
*if you don’t like more erotic stories, avoid the tag/category *spicy*
Beware the Fairy Ring: Portals to the Otherworld or Dangerous Traps?
Fairy rings, those enigmatic circles of mushrooms that appear in forests and meadows, have long captivated human imagination.
Sacred Simplicity: Spiritual Practices for the Weary Soul
Scene From A Maple
She wore a green dress, the color of spring grass, and tiny violet-colored slippers with gold bells on the toes. She looked down at them too, and waved.
"Oh my gosh!" they both squealed, excited to see a real live fairy. She fluttered down and smiled at the two girls.
Book Review: His Family by Ernest Poole
It all begins with an idea.
Alina and The Greatest Show on Earth, Part 3 (of 5)
He held the door open, and we stepped through. The warmth of a potbelly stove was comforting. The shopkeeper nodded politely, and my aunt headed over to the fabric. Dr. Rigby led me to the back corner, where a few wooden shelves stood half-filled with books.
A Pansy for Eleanor, part 6 (of 8)
Eleanor nodded, letting him lead her down the main street, her boots clicking softly against the wooden planks of the walkway. At least it was cleared. The street looked like a muddy, slushy mess. She tried to ignore the curious glances from passersby, newcomers were surely noticed here.