Songs Written in Moonlight III E-Book

Christopher T. Winters

• Herausgeber: Christopher T. Winters
• Kategorie: Ratgeber
• Serie: Songs Written in Moonlight
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 36

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2026

Beschreibung

There are places where the night does more than fallit listens.Songs Written in Moonlight III: The Meadow that Listened to the Stars is a quiet, lyrical fantasy story about return, recognition, and the gentle memories the earth keeps for those who walk it slowly. Set in a moonlit meadow where fallen stars rest softly in the grass and lantern light waits without demand, this book invites readers into a world shaped by stillness and subtle wonder.Written in poetic, atmospheric prose, the story unfolds like a lullaby carried on night air. It follows a traveler drawn into a listening landscapewhere oaks whisper, shadows shimmer with silver, and the sky itself leans close to hear a heartbeat. This is not a story of conflict, but of belonging; not of endings, but of quiet arrival.Perfect for evening reading, moments of calm, or winding down before sleep, this book is designed to soothe and ground. Readers who love dreamlike fantasy, gentle magical realism, and stories that feel like a pause rather than a rush will find comfort in its pages.Songs Written in Moonlight continues as a series of modern bedtime stories for adultssoft, reflective, and written for nights that ask nothing but attention.

Leseprobe

Songs Written in Moonlight II

The Lantern that Waited for Dawn

by Christopher T. Winters

Imprint

Author:Christopher T. WintersThorsten FrenzelFinkenkruger Straße 214612 FalkenseeGermany

E-mail: [email protected]

Responsible for content (German law §§ 5 TMG / 55 RStV):Thorsten FrenzelFinkenkruger Straße 214612 FalkenseeGermany

Copyright Notice

© 2025 Christopher T. WintersAll rights reserved.

No part of this e-book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, scanning, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This applies in particular to: – reproductions – translations – microfilming – digital storage – processing in electronic systems

All characters, places, and events in this book—unless explicitly identified as historical—are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Foreword

There are nights that arrive quietly, carrying nothing but their own stillness. Nights that ask for nothing, demand nothing, and yet linger in a way that gently rearranges the thoughts we have tried so long to keep in order. It is in those unguarded hours—when the world softens into shadow and breath—that stories often find us. Not loudly, not insistently, but in the quiet way a small lantern might glow beside a forgotten path.

This book was born from such a night.

A night when the edges of the world felt a little softer, when the silence carried more comfort than fear, and when a faint glimmer of light seemed enough to guide a weary heart forward. Songs Written in Moonlight II continues that journey: a journey through darkness not to escape it, but to understand the quiet shapes it holds. A journey where courage is not a shout, but a slow inhale. Where hope does not burst into existence, but unfolds, tender and patient, like dawn remembering its way back into the sky.

If you are reading this, I hope the lanterns within these pages offer you what they offered me—a moment of calm, a breath of light, a reminder that even the softest glow can guide us through the deepest night. And that sometimes, the dawn we wait for is already walking toward us, step by gentle step.

May this story accompany you wherever your own quiet paths lead.

— Christopher T. Winters

Chapter 1 – When the Lantern First Stirred in the Quiet Dark

Night had settled gently over the old path, draping its velvet silence across the stones and the roots that had pushed through them over decades. Nothing stirred but the faint hum of the wind, that soft, steady breath of the world when it thinks no one is listening. In that vast, tender stillness, a single lantern hung from the crooked limb of an ancient tree. It had been unlit for longer than memory could hold, and yet something inside it shimmered as if the night itself had whispered a secret into its glass.

For a long time, the lantern remained motionless, suspended in the cool breath of the darkness. Then, almost imperceptibly, it flickered. Not with fire, not with flame—something gentler, like the echo of a forgotten dream. Its light pulsed once, finding its way through the mist that lingered low to the ground. It was the light of something waking, something remembering its purpose.

The air around it shifted. A leaf brushed against its frame. Somewhere in the soft distance, an owl closed its wings and listened. The world, which had been floating in its midnight slumber, paused in a way only night can. As if it sensed that a story was about to begin—a quiet one, delicate as a breath, but powerful enough to shift the course of a wanderer’s heart.

Far down the path, invisible in the shadows, footsteps approached. Slow, steady, unhurried. They were the steps of someone who did not fear the dark but carried a deep, unspoken weariness. With each step, the lantern brightened by the smallest fraction, glowing in a way that felt almost expectant. It had been waiting—perhaps for years, perhaps for longer.