Ripples of Blaine
Everyone creates a ripple in the pool—a word, a deed, an action. We all make waves.
The Blaines are integrated throughout these books, forming ripples in the still, limpid pools of green.
My Mum, bless her, I miss her terribly, and it is this grief that has largely written this series. She once told me, "Eyes like limpid pools." She was a writer herself when we were children, spinning thousands of bedtime stories. "Well, what do you want me to tell you tonight?" she'd ask. My fondest memory was the tale of the moonbeam and its journey to Father Christmas. Naturally, I tried to walk on moonbeams after that.
When she was ill, or sometimes even when she was well and we slept in separate rooms, she would call me by name, awakening me just to say, "Look at the moon out of my window." We often watched the moon climbing, climbing, through the Eucalyptus—a sentinel in the darkness that is now no more.
Every action, every word, creates a ripple in a pool, making waves if you aren't careful. Throw a pebble in the water, and watch the concentric circles generate.
The Blaine family are far and wide, their history centuries old. Discovering they were Revenants caused a shudder in the author's heart. Later, as the series progresses, you will discover that they have no bite.
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