Care for an amuse-bouche of utter romance?
A bite-sized novella (55 pages) of contemporary love?
May I offer you Ravenscar…
On June 23, 2010, Ethan Holloway is left for dead.
Badly injured, the 27-year old Army doctor is the lone survivor of a brutal insurgent attack in the mountains of Afghanistan. Cut off from his base, with no way to tend to his injuries, his wounds quickly threaten to turn mortal.
Hours pass and Ethan’s hope fades with his consciousness.
But Fate is not done with the young doctor.
This is the story of a miracle survival, of a love borne of fortune.
This is the story of two men fated to live one extraordinary life together.
Thank you for your time, your follows and your continued attention these last 4 years of daily blog-ness. You mean more to me than you can possibly know.
Acclaimed author of 17 novels (my dogs and mother adore me), World traveler (I’ve felt the Sahara Desert between my toes… still gobsmacked over the stars in the Sahara) And survivor (of three dirty-fighting gremlins named Anxiety, Panic and OCD)… My name is Chloe Stowe. Hello. If you’ve found your way here, you’ve most likely arrived on the coattails of my blog, The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe. Started in 2012, my daily rantings now number in the thousands. Ranging from humorous to moody, poignant to absurd, these tiny tidbits of thought began as a way to get my name “out there.” It has long since morphed into an effort just to “be there” for anybody out there struggling with words or madness, like me. Quick biographical sketch of me? Nerd turned nut at nineteen. In my sophomore year at Auburn University, I was taken out at the knees by severe panic attacks. Chronic anxiety soon joined the dogpile, followed shortly by OCD tendencies. Oh, it was ugly. I eventually had to quit school and soon quit life, as well. I spent a good chunk of my 20’s not able to leave my room. Twenty years later, it’s still can get ugly in my head. Thanks to meds and doctors, however, I am able to lead a better life, now. I still can’t work outside the house, but I can live and smile and write. So, here I am. Broken, but stubbornly present. I hope my voice proves company to someone lonely out there. Thanks for reading! Chloe Stowe