A Follow Your Heart Novel

Dew of Heaven

by Linda Phillips

Dew of Heaven by Linda Phillips

The words “good to go” will change two people’s lives forever. Talia sparkles as though she were an angel, and because of that she was abducted for many years of her life.

Marquess Chatwin has gone missing. Now, he is on a quest to get revenge for a despicable cover up. Can he carry out the revenge now that he has developed feelings for his prisoner? Will love soften the beast inside of him?

A life of struggle, tragedy and love evokes a Beauty and the Beast flavor. Chatwin has a knack for generating emotions of love and hate, while Talia is seen by all as one feather short of becoming an angel.


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Release Date: October 31, 2023

Genre: Fantasy Romance

~ A White Satin Romance ~


Chapter One

Follow your heart, even if love takes you to the stars in the heavens or down into

the depths of the sea. Reach high...


As she sits in despair and questions why,

She feels the brush of an angel’s wing as it passes by,

A smile and comforted heart, no longer the need to cry.


* * *


The day was dark, even eerie. The sun’s rays begged to break through and indulge mankind with its cheerfulness, but ominous clouds filtered them out. Still, something was odd: a sparkly glow beamed a path through the forest to a tower of a shabby, unloved cottage. The glistening presence was unexplainable.

Droopy eyes stared out a window. A bewildered beauty rested her head on her hands.

All day.

Every day.

That same heavenly glow that filled the pathway through the forest reflected off her skin as if heaven itself was showcasing her beauty. Was she an angel? Or maybe the good Lord above wanted the world to notice her. But why? What made her so different from everyone else?

Twirling and humming a song in front of the window, a pulchritudinous young lady, filled to the brim with inner beauty, donned a cheerful front. With a forced smile, she pranced, and her long, blonde, almost-white hair glittered as it fluttered and settled on the middle of her thigh.

Wherever she abided, glistening dew sparkled—whether around the exterior of her room or the trails where she walked. The tower where she had been held prisoner for five years had strong iron bars covering the windows, and the door was bolted shut with a heavy block of wood across the outside of it.

“Hello up there, Lord. You’re my best friend in the whole world. The only friend in the whole world.”

Glittery tears trailed her face, and she tried to catch her breath from gut-wrenching sobs. Gathering her composure, she leaned on the window and sang a sweet song. The soft, alluring melody lured the forest animals near, like a fairy tale coming to life. She saw reflections of their eyes peeking out of the forest, and her eyes followed them, roving up high to the sky and down low to the ground. Her innocent, tear-stained face beamed a smile, and new, fresh tears formed. She loved the creatures of the forest, and they loved her.

Feeling a sensation on her arm, she rubbed the spot, wondering if a feather from an angel’s wing brushed against her. Her arms and neck prickled with goosebumps. Her eyes searched. She dragged her fingers softly across her skin, trying to imitate the feel of a feather. The sensation, imagined or not, deserved a glimpse to the heavens, producing a grateful smile across her face.

“You have not abandoned me. Thank you for reminding me, my Lord,” she spoke in a hushed tone. “And as You instructed Your children, I pray in sincerity for the salvation of my captors, although, in truthfulness, I despise them as much as they despise me. But they deserve to know Your love just as much as I do. Please enlighten their path, dear Lord.”

Talia sat back down on the bed, her Bible in hand. She turned to Psalms 6, reading verses 6-10. “I am weary with my sighing; every night I make my bed swim, I dissolve my couch with my tears. For the Lord has heard the voice of my weeping...”

How is it even possible to produce tears after years of sobbing?

Her hand rubbed the tattered and stained sheets softly, feeling the dampness of her tears where she had swum in them the previous night. She sighed and glanced at the wooden crates, her abductors’ idea of a couch still stained with a trail of her tears from last night. As she went to the window, a thought popped into her mind. Looking upwards, she meekly prayed: “You have heard my weeping. I just know it, Lord. I feel it in my soul. I can’t wait to meet your servant, David. We certainly have a lot in common. Have a pleasant day, my Lord. I await eagerly for my rescue.” 

Was she imagining it, or did the forest animals have tears in their eyes? With tender eyes, she blew them a kiss.

Talia loved the small village of Bibury, which sat among the hilly Cotswold region and was often called England’s most beautiful town, with a population of around 627. The River Coln ran through the main street, while lush meadows surrounded olden stone cottages with charming two-sided roofs. But that’s where her abduction occurred—in Bibury, England, part of the civil parish in Gloucestershire. The reason for her capture was simple: greed—a plot to blackmail her parents.

She leaned her ear against the bolted door to hear the conversation in the living room.

“Let’s hang on to the wench for a while longer,” the leader remarked. “Just look at her. She is worth far more than her parents could give. Perhaps we could sell Talia to a rich king or prince once she gets older. I know someone who can direct me to the right person. When they see her unexplainable beauty, we’ll have many offers. I mean, who wouldn’t want her for a wife or mistress or just to look at? If she looks this enchanting as a child, just imagine what she will look like as she grows older.”

Her body trembled as she listened. She ran to the mattress on the floor, a sad imposter for a bed, jumping under the torn-up blankets. Sparkly tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Why do they hate me so? I have followed their orders. I speak nicely to them, even though they are grotesque,” she said with a shaky whisper. She hiccupped and licked the fallen tears that flowed over her lips. Holding her hands together underneath her chin, she quaked, praying that God would have mercy on her.


* * *


Talia’s parents, Lord Oliver and Freya Brennyinn, searched year after year for their beloved daughter. Eventually, the village concluded that she had drowned. Her boat was found floating on the river, and inside, wildflowers dotted the boat floor next to a mysterious dab of a sparkling, watery substance that couldn’t be identified. They dragged the river for miles, but Talia’s body was never found.

In the evenings, Freya aimlessly wandered the estate. One night, she discovered their housekeeper, Adelaide, sitting at the kitchen table crying with Twiggly, the butler. At that moment, Freya understood her daughter’s impact on all who knew her. 

The small community mourned their beloved loss. Talia had earned their love with a caring, adventurous, and fun disposition.

The day Talia was abducted, Lord had Brennyinn offered a reward of a million dollars to anyone who could identify her whereabouts. It was everything he had in the world—and, unfortunately, what he didn’t have. Should she be found, he would have to borrow money. His family knew nothing about the financial situation he hid from them.

Still, financial ruin would be worth it if only he could have his daughter back. Like the other household members, Lord Brennyinn also fell apart in despair. His body weight wasted away from being unable to eat, and his sobs echoed throughout the house at night. His clothes hung limply on his frail body, and many days, the house staff and Freya would watch Lord Brennyinn push himself up out of a chair, bracing his feet against the front legs to keep him from falling.


* * *


After nearly five years of imprisonment, Talia’s abductors still hadn’t sold her to men of wealth and stature—the men wanted to wait until she had grown into a teenager. Plus, many of the potential buyers believed her appearance was manipulated. Talia overheard her abductors say, “If I hear one more person ask how she could possibly sparkle like that, we may need to discuss just cutting our losses and disposing of her.”

Talia held a fairy-tale book in her hands. Reading stories of a knight in shining armor caused her to stare out the window and daydream about the day her knight would rescue her. She turned the book over and returned to the windowsill, resting her chin on her hands with a sigh of defeat. It was a silly thing to imagine. What else was there to dream about, though? Loneliness? The lustful eyes of her captors? Each day was the same, day after dreary day.

As she stared blankly at the wall, anger replaced her tears, and she bit down on her lip, drawing blood. What would happen if I tried to escape? she wondered, staring blankly at the ceiling. She jumped off the bed and paced, her forehead wrinkled. What could be worse: being a prisoner the rest of my life or perhaps dying and spending a glorious life in heaven with my Lord and Savior? She smiled at the thought. She knew one of the men would bring in a food tray later, so she planned her move.

That evening, her jailer, Norman, brought her some food—that’s what they called it, anyway. As he turned to set the tray on the wooden crate, Talia jumped off the bed and ran out the open door. She made it to the cottage’s front door, and she had her hand on the doorknob when Percy, one of her abductors, opened the door from the outside. She sucked in a fearful breath as he grabbed her. She clenched her eyes shut and bit the bottom of her lip, struggling to be free of his clenching, painful grip.

It happened so fast. He pulled her up in his arms and squeezed her so tight she couldn’t breathe. Her face turned gray. Then, he threw her down, and she hit the floor with a thud while another accomplice, Harry, closed the front door. Percy pressed his foot down on her stomach, and she gasped for air again. For a glorious second, he removed his foot, but then, he yanked her to her feet and slapped her face.

“Oof,” she murmured through the seething pain. Her hands covered her face, and she cowered, falling to the floor and curling into a ball. “Stop, please stop,” she cried.

Once again, Percy yanked her up by her hair until their faces were uncomfortably close. He glared into her fearful eyes. She trembled.

“Next time, I’ll kill you. Now, move. Back to your room.” He shoved her toward the room, and she walked in slowly, wincing with each small step. The door slammed closed so loudly, it caused her to jump. As she heard the piece of wood bolt the door, she lowered herself slowly on the mattress and whimpered softly.

Forcing herself to quit crying, she listened. They were laughing. Why do they hate me so? Why not just kill me and get it over with? Why? But she knew why. She had heard their scheming, so she knew how rich she would make them.

She rocked back and forth slowly, squinting her eyes in pain with each movement. She tried to look heavenward, but it was too painful. Why Lord? Why?

Overwhelmed with pain, she collapsed back on the mattress and fell into a fitful dream of the past.


* * *


Sitting on her windowsill, she stared out at the river and saw a heavenly glow. On impulse, she climbed out and jumped into the boat, even though her parents would never allow her to go out in the evening.

“Lord above, your creation is magnificent,” she said.

The heavens brightened a path that was too intriguing to ignore, and as if God was guiding the boat, it floated to a location she couldn’t resist exploring.

She hopped out of the boat, trampling through a ground cover of bramble and ivy, stumbling onto the most ineffable spot in the whole world. A modest waterfall flowed into a small pool before escaping into the River Coln. She followed a rock path along the pool into a secret underground pond filled with a thick, glittering liquid. The sweet odor was unlike anything she had ever smelled. I’ll call it “Dew of Heaven,” she said, her voice echoing in the cave. Using her hand as a makeshift cup, she sipped the mysterious water, which tasted sweet like nectar.

In her dream, she saw a flash, and “Dew of Heaven” melded into another scene. She was taking a boat ride, stroking the paddles down the River Coln, when she spotted some burly men passing by in a boat. They smiled at her, and a pang of fear and consternation rippled through her body. She locked eyes with one of the men as they floated past her. He smiled a gap-toothed grin with one of his front teeth missing. Talia noticed his torn, stained clothing, and the pong of the men’s putrid body odor lingered as they passed.

The dream severed, Talia’s eyes flew open, and her mouth formed an ‘O’ in a silent scream. Lord, please give me pleasant dreams. I don’t want to relive that day ever again.


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