by Danielle Scruton | Aug 8, 2022 | Blog Post, Podcast Episode |
I kicked off my ankle boots and turned on the lights of my parent’s condo. As always, I was welcomed and, frankly, surrounded by their forty-seven plants, including twelve giant ferns. Caring for these things sometimes felt like a full-time job. My mother...
by Danielle Scruton | Jun 20, 2022 | Blog Post, Podcast Episode |
When Lawrence died, it was a mild inconvenience. That may sound cold but I could never lie about this- I did not love him. Our fathers insisted upon us marrying as a fertile tie for their companies and that was that. My daddy owned a furniture store and Lawrence’s...
by Danielle Scruton | May 17, 2022 | Blog Post, Podcast Episode |
Because some things come upon you in such a way that you lose your footing, you lose yourself for a moment—maybe even a year or two. There is nothing so temporary as being sure of what is true. Life will smack you upside the head each and every time you believe you...
by Danielle Scruton | Oct 8, 2021 | Blog Post |
From my novel-in-progress… “Do you have no tea here, love?” called Mrs. Hanks as she looked through the cupboard. Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I am afraid not.” The older woman put her hands on her hips, indignant. “No tea? Why that dastardly man! I daresay...
by Danielle Scruton | Sep 22, 2021 | Blog Post |
November was nobody’s favourite month in Upstate New York, but it was Sam’s. Sure, the leaves left the trees, days became shorter, and the weather turned cold, but that last bit meant something good. Cold weather—namely, November 1st—marked the start of...
by Danielle Scruton | Apr 2, 2021 | Blog Post |
From my WIP… The older woman observed her closely. “Tell me what happened, child. Tell me what happened to have you marry a man you clearly do no love, nor like.” Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in the old, wooden chair. It had seemed like a waste of breath to...
by Danielle Scruton | Oct 31, 2019 | Blog Post |
It was the early days of falling into something they both at once craved and feared. Everyone has heartbreak—divorce though, that’s its own kind of hurt. They lounged quietly, contentedly on his worn grey couch. Her head was in his lap as they watched another...
