<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Colleen Kelley | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/ckelley116</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Colleen Kelley</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1775401433</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Chapter Three</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Samara awoke slowly the next morning. The sky was blue and bright outside her window, and the seemingly never-ending snowstorm had indeed stopped at last. Betty flurried around the chamber, humming softly to herself. Having relit the fire that went out during t..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/203962/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>On the Vine</title>
			<description>i am brokenlike a naked melonseeping liquiddrink me</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/203734/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Someday</title>
			<description>someday you'll miss this &amp;ndash;falling asleep beneaththe warmth ofmeon you</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/203732/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Chapter Two</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Lord Haughton had forgotten to tell Mrs. Howell that there would be two extra men at the high board for the evening meal. Luckily Josephine, with her usual sensible foresight, had informed the cook, and the menu was delicious &amp;ndash; a side of rare beef, a larg..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/203729/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Chapter One</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;The rainstorms that had been plaguing the county for the last few weeks had given way to snow, and Samara Haughton was going mad. It snowed through the day and overnight, for a solid week, until it nearly blocked the entrance to the castle and she could not even step out to get fresh air. On..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/203727/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Prologue</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The old man lay silently in his bed, the air whistling in and out of his chest like wind through the branches of the giant oak tree outside his chamber window. Every now and then a fit of coughing racked him, causing his frail shoulders to..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/203725/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Samara</title>
			<description>Cade Badgley is the earl of Easton, having unexpectedly inherited the title from his father. Samara Haughton is the wild daughter of the earl of Bolingbroke, Cade's closest neighbor, a broken-hearted man who has neglected to see to Samara's future. When C</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/203724/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Fizz</title>
			<description>Once you had so much lovefor me you said it wasspilling over like a shook upbeer bottleBut instead of drinking it upyou put the cap back on</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/180553/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Shattered</title>
			<description>the time is passing so slow todayI thought I was used to you being goneuntil I woke up again and you weren't thereand I feel empty againwhen I thought I was coming back to lifeit's getting harder to breathe around hereI talked to you todayabout everything and nothingand never said ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/180533/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Baking</title>
			<description>Like an egg on theside of a mixing bowl, youcracked me -my insides spilling out,leaving me shatteredand gaping&amp;nbsp;</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/180531/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>21</title>
			<description>Suburban streets flash throughthe car windows, giving theimpression that there might besomewhere to stop and stretchour legs, bare between thehem of our skirts and thetop of our boots. Ourbodies, new at this, cravealcohol the way a babycraves its mother's breast -..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ckelley116/180530/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>