What Were The Chances Sylvia Rose Turner would ever find happiness. In a world where the social elite rule, what chance does a small town country girl have of succeeding, much less find love and happiness. In a small town, a resilient young girl named Sylvia Rose Turner faces challenging circumstances. She has no time to dream of white weddings, debutante balls or fairy godmothers. Instead, she must face unrelenting struggles as she quickly learns the harshness of fate. Yet, even in the face of adversity, Sylvia Rose discovers unwavering self-belief can conquer almost any obstacle life hurls…mehr
What Were The Chances Sylvia Rose Turner would ever find happiness. In a world where the social elite rule, what chance does a small town country girl have of succeeding, much less find love and happiness. In a small town, a resilient young girl named Sylvia Rose Turner faces challenging circumstances. She has no time to dream of white weddings, debutante balls or fairy godmothers. Instead, she must face unrelenting struggles as she quickly learns the harshness of fate. Yet, even in the face of adversity, Sylvia Rose discovers unwavering self-belief can conquer almost any obstacle life hurls her way. From a tender age, Sylvia Rose becomes intimately acquainted with the concept of sacrifice, often choosing not to eat so that her siblings may. She never loses sight of her roots, clinging to the Southern values and traditions she learns during her formative years. These qualities, among many others, contribute to the bedrock of her eventual success. Sylvia Rose's journey through life has been arduous and, without help, would not have fared as well. She has never forgotten the debt of gratitude she owes to another, someone she has not seen in decades and once loved enough to let go. She knows a broken heart was merely a partial payment for that debt. Years pass, and Sylvia Rose now lives a comfortable life among the social elite in Cincinnati, Ohio. In her large house she sits in her cherished armchair, in the room she loves most-the parlor. Suddenly, a knock echoes on her door. Reaching for her ivory-handled cane, she rises slowly, her heart pounding as she ponders, "Has the time finally come to pay the piper?"
Born to a single Sicilian mother in Germany, my family moved to America when I was eleven years old.The first of many states I will come to live in is Georgia. This is when I am introduced to the "southern" dialect. Taught British English, I learned quickly that I did not speak "American." These impressionable years are when my love of writing is born. I am grateful to have experienced the colorful and homespun stories and phrases shared by the older women who sat shelling butter beans on front porches while whimsically retelling epic tales told to them by their grammies. I admired the tobacco-spitting grandpas who sat in their rocking chairs whittling as they spoke lovingly, tenderly and respectfully of the wife they had lost five years prior.The comforting smells, sights, and sounds you can only experience in the country give credence to the safe and secure feeling of living amongst the hardworking people who always find time to thank God for the bounty they enjoy daily. This is a world I never dreamed existed, yet here it is for me to bask in and learn lessons no book can teach, no television will ever replicate, nor google search, explain.I cannot imagine the man I would be today had I not been given the privilege and honor of growing up among such values lovingly taught and displayed by neighbors and friends.I feel the desire and need to write for all these reasons and many more. I believe, much like the stories told on the creaky old wooden porches, mine too are meant to be shared and enjoyed; the price of admission? A heartfelt smile. If by the end of the story, my readers have shared the beautiful experiences life has so fortunately bestowed upon me, then I have done my job.
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