tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20804843938825781612024-03-19T05:59:04.103-07:00The MuseAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-87365021983056834042012-12-18T08:20:00.001-08:002012-12-18T08:20:18.966-08:00The Muse: Love fantasy<a href="http://themuse22.blogspot.com/2012/12/love-fantasy.html?spref=bl">The Muse: Love fantasy</a>: While her busy work didn’t leave place for much dream, when she was at home, especially when she was on her own, she menta...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-89899321092559929572012-12-18T08:18:00.001-08:002012-12-18T08:28:25.083-08:00Love fantasy<h2>
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While her busy
work didn’t leave place for much dream, when she was at home, especially when
she was on her own, she mentally recalled Ian s pretty face.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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On her lost hours, she began fantasizing
about dating her mystery guest. She could have asked him at least about his
name, but Dolores was reserved and of shy temper. She thought that multiple
occasions would show up later.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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However, life experience shows us that you
have to seize the opportunity when it presents to you, otherwise you might
never see it again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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“Tomorrow, I will speak to him”, Dolores said to herself on this late November
evening. Ian seemed to be in a hurry on this afternoon, he left the deli very
fast, running to the other side of the road. She just saw him vanishing away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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She then went to clean his table. Just
under his chair, she noticed some beautiful drawing. She kneeled down and had a
short look at it. She couldn’t believe what she just saw: the drawing reflected
her face in rich details.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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“That’s
me!”, she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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Under the
picture, it was written:<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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“I’m coming
from afar, I found my home<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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Oh
beautiful Muse, lets blend our destinies:”<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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<o:p> </o:p></span></span></h2>
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“He loves me”, she gasped, totally in awe. High emotions began to
invade her, but she tried to contain them. The boss was getting impatient and
was asking her to serve two new clients that had just popped in.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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“Hey, girl,
hurry up, customers are waiting!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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She folded
the paper and put it discretely in her jeans pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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In her head, all darkness had gone. She was
hearing sweet angel melodies. She couldn’t get that “He loves me, he loves
me!” out of her head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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She took a few commands, made some
mistakes, and dropped some coffee on an angry customer. Aaron, Dolores boss was
getting angry and told her to leave for today. She’d work more hours tomorrow,
but for now, she was inefficient, so her boss called another waitress, Angela,
to replace Dolores. </span></h2>
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Copyright©
by Isabelle Esling<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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All Rights
Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></span></h2>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-49494443115554591972012-12-16T13:33:00.001-08:002012-12-16T13:33:35.181-08:00The Muse: My beloved country<a href="http://themuse22.blogspot.com/2012/12/my-beloved-country.html?spref=bl">The Muse: My beloved country</a>: The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, until you reach the other side. Sometimes, we have all we need. We just don’...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-11533587196909916412012-12-16T13:29:00.001-08:002012-12-17T01:31:18.827-08:00My beloved country<br />
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The grass
is always greener on the other side of the fence, until you reach the other
side.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Sometimes,
we have all we need. We just don’t seem to know it.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtbkHtL2z47kcWU2l6zAixQzxmxDB-UcZZanIWeu38lOhbpo5F6Ri1zEAFBXZgScu5rUURYPcCdbiVZbaUFyCIa9sr4D6FRgZLLd-1OubCMzoytEX3WiOZkFICZF6sZSEXCf5_6Gx4hTP/s1600/Dolores.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtbkHtL2z47kcWU2l6zAixQzxmxDB-UcZZanIWeu38lOhbpo5F6Ri1zEAFBXZgScu5rUURYPcCdbiVZbaUFyCIa9sr4D6FRgZLLd-1OubCMzoytEX3WiOZkFICZF6sZSEXCf5_6Gx4hTP/s1600/Dolores.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dolores<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dolores
Fernandez was born in the Spanish town of Murcia, as the fourth child of her
parents. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">You’d never
guess Dolores Fernandez is Spanish. The 24 year old, tall, slim, green eyed,
blond haired girl doesn't look like the typical Spanish citizen, except maybe when she
has this special, warm, lively glance in her eyes reflecting her country’s
warmth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">She bathed into
a joyful atmosphere all her life. Nothing destined her to live elsewhere but in
Spain. She loved her country; she loved her environment, her relatives, her
friends, the sea, the mountains and the lovely food. Dolores graduated in
media, which allowed her to become a radio producer for national Spanish
channels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Over the years,
she had developed wonderful photographic skills. She was a strong, independent
woman, working in media, but maybe too much influenced by the same media she
was working for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dolores had a
boyfriend, Javier. Despite the fact that they were nearly engaged, they didn’t
live together. Javier considered that it would be better for them to get
married and move together after ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Javier was a
tall boy, with long, dark, brown hair. He had a very calm temper and loved
Dolores a lot. When he was talking about her, he always referred to her as “<i>my
future wife.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB">Copyright© by Isabelle Esling<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<i>
</i><br />
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<i><span lang="EN-GB">All Rights Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<i>
</i>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-54827674378656126002012-12-15T10:19:00.001-08:002012-12-15T10:19:41.867-08:00The Muse: Meant to be together<a href="http://themuse22.blogspot.com/2012/12/meant-to-be-together.html?spref=bl">The Muse: Meant to be together</a>: Meant to be together Dolores couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad at this time of the year. Christmas was at the door, it was...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-58127723888068393892012-12-15T10:17:00.001-08:002012-12-15T10:17:43.385-08:00Meant to be together<br />
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Meant to be
together<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dolores couldn’t
help but feel a little bit sad at this time of the year. Christmas was at the
door, it was freezing outside, children were playing with the snow; some others
were building a happy snowman. The last client had gone. She was about to close
the store, it was now a quarter to eight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">She felt bored
at the thought of spending another Christmas with Tony and his parents. She
liked Tony, but she didn’t love him anymore. Three years had passed since she
met him for the first time in NYC.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">At the
beginning, she loved his kindness and he was reassuring for a lost foreigner
like her in a big City such as New York. He was quite conventional, but a nice
and decent guy, the kind of guy she needed at this time. But now, she was
getting tired of her boring daily home routine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">She touched her
hair, mechanically, thinking of how life in her country would have been right
now. Her mind couldn’t concentrate properly; she dropped a coffee cup a client
had left on the table. Her mind was with <i>him. </i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><i>The handsome mystery man, the
one who had completely vanished from her deli three weeks ago still possessed
her mind.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Oh, stop
it now, Dolores, you ll probably never see him again.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Having washed
the last dishes, Dolores was about to get ready to go home. She fitted her hat
on her head; put some lipstick on her lips…The door of the deli opened
suddenly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">He</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"> was there, standing in front of her. He was looking
deep into her eyes, searching for some hidden answer. He was smiling nicely,
removing some snow flocks from his hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Hello”, he
said, finally.” It’s been a long time.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dolores
froze. She was looking at her lovely stranger, her heart beating at fast rate.
She couldn’t speak, nor could she make any move. She was just staring at him,
lost in translation, lost in admiration, transported by the high feelings of
love.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">He
approached her slowly, put his soft hands on her waist; his eyes were diving
into Dolores greenish glance. He stole her soft kiss. He then removed her hat,
caressed her soft, long, blond hair, giving her a passionate French kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Marry me”,
he whispered. “Please marry me, darling.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">She closed
her eyes. She realized she loved a total stranger. It came to her mind that she
didn’t even know his name. He didn’t know how she was called either…but in this
unique moment, their hearts were melting, glowing in the dark winter night. She
was feeling euphoric.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dolores
kissed him back and gently whispered: “I ll marry you, my sweet darling.”</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Copyright© by Isabelle Esling</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">All Rights Reserved</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-1546201721184475322012-12-15T08:39:00.002-08:002012-12-15T08:39:54.541-08:00The Muse: New Literary project: The Muse<a href="http://themuse22.blogspot.com/2012/12/new-literary-project-muse.html?spref=bl">The Muse: New Literary project: The Muse</a>: Let me share with you one of my most recent literary projects: “The Muse” ...<br />
<div id="wrchoverdiv"><div id="wrccontainer"><div id="wrcheader"><div id="wrctitle"> WebRep</div></div><div class="wrchorizontal"></div><div id="wrccurrentvote">currentVote</div><div class="wrchorizontal"></div><div id="wrcrating"></div><div id="wrcratingtext">noRating</div><div id="wrcweighttext">noWeight</div><div id="wrcflags"><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_shopping"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_social"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_news"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_it"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_corporate"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_pornography"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_violence"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_gambling"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_drugs"></div><div class="wrcicon" id="wrcicon_illegal"></div></div><div class="wrchorizontal"></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2080484393882578161.post-13340198528879500622012-12-15T08:39:00.000-08:002012-12-15T10:14:48.462-08:00New Literary project: The Muse<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Let me
share with you one of my most recent literary projects: “The Muse”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqjA9MxwvTFBYOPuUBVc7LrJ_rl0meuP-CssCI-rjuzjcdOsYjldDaRSBnFeyzgW4cAN49KpXDjmTE48gauDKQcGMzOBqXJvOVFJV6NH2eqZMbpVaoczzSGmnCtxSqn-YcOte_1sUb1f4y/s1600/lovers.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqjA9MxwvTFBYOPuUBVc7LrJ_rl0meuP-CssCI-rjuzjcdOsYjldDaRSBnFeyzgW4cAN49KpXDjmTE48gauDKQcGMzOBqXJvOVFJV6NH2eqZMbpVaoczzSGmnCtxSqn-YcOte_1sUb1f4y/s320/lovers.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>SYNOPSIS<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The grass
looks always greener on the other side of the fence-until we reach the other
side. Dolores Fernandez, a Spanish native was living happily in Murcia. She was
working as a radio producer for national Channels. She had a boyfriend to die
for, a lovely family and some wonderful friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">However,
the economic crisis that was taking place in Spain was scaring Dolores, who
decided to grab a chance and participate to the Green Card Lottery. In America,
she would be able to make herself a better situation and come back to Spain in
excellent conditions-or so she thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Dolores
gets lucky enough to win at the Green Card Lottery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">After the
first euphoria is gone, Dolores suddenly realizes that she has to sacrifice her
love life with Javier to live on her own in NYC. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Her new boyfriend Tony seems to give her more stability, but soon, Dolores gets caught in a couple routine that starts boring her. Also, she is not fulfilling her professional ambitions in America, which leaves her deeply frustrated.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">When
everything seems lost, love always seem to knock at the door in the most
unusual places…Dolores never expected to be a successful writer s <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>source of inspiration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">On a cold
December night, two strangers in the night, Dolores and Ian unite their
destines for the better, for the best… if you are fond of love stories, The
Muse will take you by storm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Copyright©
by Isabelle Esling<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">All Rights
Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10431232726962352081noreply@blogger.com0