Would you believe a man and his ghost? Ron Shaw does, and what a story his Mary has shared with him!
I slept like the dead, he begins their tale – motionless and pinned down. It felt great, but as soon as sleep enveloped me, the dream began. No one could’ve prepared me for what was to come next.
Dusty rooms, indentured servitude, even a bat in the attic, all conspire as they draw Mary towards the inevitable.
Internationally recognized author and host of The Ron Shaw Show on ArtistFirst Radio Network, Ron has done it again, weaving fear, joy, and even love into a story you won’t soon forget.
You won’t want to miss this one!
Targeted Age Group:: adult, young adult
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
Mary, a Victorian ghost was the inspiration and voice of this book. Her life’s story had to be told, and this book is the beginning of Mary, as she lived.
Travel back with us to Victorian England and know what events occurred in her life.
Unfortunately, she had to die.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
All of the characters except me, my family, and our pets were presented to the author through Mary. She reveals her history to me in her own fashion.
More than likely, to everyone except me, this will seem overly simplistic and even trite, but with that said, some basic understandings of life come naturally with age.
The years melt away so quickly.
From the moment of our conception to the day we see the world that so beautifully exists outside our mother’s womb, we begin this life in darkness. As we grow, life unfolds before our eyes, and we become more and more aware of the fact that with each breath taken we’re basically dying.
Time rolls by.
Days fade into months, and months blitz into years. Before you know it, decades seem like minutes, passing too quickly on an eight day clock.
I’ve come to realize and actually appreciate a simple analogy. Life itself is a river.
Mine is a raging one. Yours may be different. I hope you’ve been better equipped to drift through life like a gentle, cool, fall breeze, but I honestly doubt it.
This has not been possible for me. With sixty-two years adrift, I’ve had about as much control of my flow as a dead leaf blown onto the rapid waters below. Make that a feather rather than a leaf.
I love rivers.
Life will take its course and me along for the ride. Soon, I will be deposited, where the rapids toss me. This is no longer dreaded, because it’s inevitable.
Life, if anything, is complicated.
The drudgery of the next day started early for me. I can vividly recall the moment dread first entered my life.
I was four years old, and we lived in the Ashby Street Government Housing Project in southwest Atlanta. The utter weight of my life crashed into me – a tidal wave. From that day forward, it has been fifty-eight years of toil, each year a little worse than the previous.
Don’t get me wrong here, they’ve all been great, despite the plethora of predicaments tendered or, should I say, rendered.
As a youngster, I quickly learned a higher being controls these things, and that was and remains perfectly fine by me. Faith will get you through life. This is what the years have taught me, and eventually, I listened.
Realizing that I, too, will fall like that dead leaf or feather has not come easily. It’s with me now, though, and the peace that has ensued is both palpable and pleasant.
For the moment, the river has slowed to a steady crawl. Maybe, the landing will be a gentle one.
Only God knows for sure.
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