ANGEL'S FLIGHT ~ Beginning the Round Robin

Angel's Flight now on $.99 sale

 

 

The bluebird quilt, the heart of the story, is inspired by a single piece.

 

***

“Here. Before I forget.” Minerva broke into her thoughts. Slipping a long, fair hand into a pocket, her friend removed a single, neatly pressed rectangle of printed calico.

“Oh! Just look!” The print—destined to be the center of a quilt Angelica and her friends had planned to sew round robin—was a distraction. On an ivory background, a pair of bluebirds flew on either side of a brown nest containing a clutch of eggs. It was a triumph of the most modern method of textile printing, executed by a craftsman who had used a Dutch nature print for his inspiration.

“This is from a Philadelphia shop,” Minerva replied. “Even my William allows it is as handsomely done as any English piece he’s seen.”

“What a wonderful choice for our center! Such a sweet scene— and so many nice colors to work with!”

~~ Juliet Waldron

Angel's Flight ~ $.99 sale at:

 

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and also available at:

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https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-angel039sflight-1048801-158.html

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/260029

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/296857

ANGEL'S FLIGHT/the quilt

~~~~

Quilting had always given Angelica a feeling of strength and purpose. It was as if in the process of using scraps to create a whole cloth she was reborn, renewed. In the midst of this village of the damned, the familiar, beloved activity was like an anchor of purpose, of meaning.



It was all such a muddle. Beyond the immediate danger, there was Jack, his kisses and his passionate, insistent courting. No matter how she examined this development, and from whatever angle, there seemed to be no resolution. He was a Tory; she was a Patriot. To do this, to do that--or, more pointedly--not to do this or not to do that, seemed beyond her ability to reason.



"How is it, she muttered to herself, "that I could get into this mess, but not out?"



Her fingers, with minds of their own restlessly sorted through the heap of scraps and patches. What to do?



As she picked and sorted the pieces a vague shape began to form. A star! Rough, to be sure, but a star nonetheless. Here, a point in velvet, there, a center in the wool of an old cloak.



Ah! There was enough of the velvet to make the other points. Her fingers moved faster, coaxing out stray bits of burgundy velvet, arranging them around the small bottle green wool square.



Yes, she thought. It comes together, a piece at a time...

~~Juliet Waldron

 

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