NOVELS MY BOOK: @alandchi

Good evening my fellow steemians I hope you guys are doing great

So I came up with this:
Am a lover of novel.

INTRODUCTION
Each book I write will be explained in details to make it fun, I'll add pictures for a clearer view and fun to my book so has interest anyone reading. So I start each day by droping 1 chapter for fun and you drop a review comment on How great that chapter was for even more fun.

BOOK TITLE:

THE IMPOSTER BRIDE, ISABELLE.

THERE ERE ONLY INCHES APARTS
without warning Gabriel swept her into his arms and passed her close into his arms and pressed her close to him, something her face with kisses that burned like fire in the cold of the night.

Isabelle had never been kissed like this before. It was wonderful and she felt dizzy with the pleasure of tinglings growing within her. A strong current was sweeping her away and there was nothing to save her.

Oh yes, she wanted him l, wanted him to kiss her again, wanted him to.

TITLE: THE IMPOSTER BRIDE:

**Chapter 1:**

Snow fell,
It came in a great silence sheet that spread across the rural landscape, enveloping trees and bushes and cottages, road and fields and barns, suffocating any animal which had the misfortune to catched beneath the deadly blanket, softly, coldly, foot after foot it fell and those people live in the country travel only when absolutely necessary; before blazing fires 🔥 drank pint after pint of ale, and chooke in a ruffle fashion as they talked in hushed voices of this most unusual winter season.
It was a season unlike inrecent memory, a season that could almost have been bewitched.
For outside over the wail of the wind, the suite the had heard the most horrible noises ungodly sound that caused young children to cry cats and dogs to cower religions folks to pray.
Lightening, so bright and glaring that it hurts the eyes to stare at it even for a moment swung through the darkened heaven. Harched through the blending whiteness, briefly eliminating the goshtly landscape before it fell to gloom once more.
Rolling thunder ⚡ boomed unrelenting, deafening, through the December skies, ripping apart the silence of the snow.
T was haunted landscape.....a bewitched season.....or so it was whispered by some.
And so it was all the more strange on this last week of December of the old year1697 that solitary coach should be found traveling on that almost Impassable road that lead south word to London.
It was a sharbby coach that braved the inclement weather,but rather a large vehicle expensively appointed.it was pulled valiantly by four nearly exhausted horses, horses that might have been bays one time,but now were almost white with the blanket of. Snow that laid upon their backs, shoulders head. Theses alabaster creatures strained within the confines of their harnesses s the weight of the coach and the snow through which they must go combined to drag at them, to slow them down, to bring them almost to a standstill. Through the barriers of ice and snow they went, the coach following behind.

To be continued