Ingrid Longo
Scent Of Rosewood is a contemporary novel about a young woman's struggle to regain her purpose in life. Emma Barton is plagued with panic attacks and depression after a terrifying event at work. She finds an unlikely ally in the form of an ancient woman who helps her in her quest for emotional stability. Along the way, Emma must use her nursing skills and then her wits to overcome obsticles that befall her, even in the face of death.
The author is a retired psychiatric nurse. She lives in North Carolina and has three children and seven grandchildren. She uses her vast psychiatric experience in writing this book to create an authentic portrayal of emotional disturbance. She has always enjoyed writing and is now making this her new career, using life experience as well as her experiences working as a registered nurse.
Emma stared down at the tiny woman in shock. It took a moment before she
could find her voice. “How do you know my name?” she finally croaked.
“You can call me Miss Becky,” the woman said with a twinkle in her faded,
light blue eyes. She peered over a pair of small silver spectacles. Ignoring
Emma’s question, she said firmly, “now have a seat missy. I am getting tired of
looking up at you. It’s making my neck hurt and at my age that could be a bad
thing, so sit down and make yourself comfortable.”
Emma hesitated for a second and then gingerly, sat down.
“How do you like your tea?” the woman asked, carefully pouring the hot
golden liquid into two tiny, ornate -looking tea cups. “Would you like lemon and
sugar, dear?” she prodded with a questioning look.
Taken aback, Emma just stared at her. “What?”
The older woman laughed. “Your tea, missy,” she prodded again. “What do
you take in it?”
“Ss……..sugar and lemon are fine,” Emma stammered. Her mind was racing
and she could hardly think straight. Who was this woman? How did she know
her?
With a small tong the elderly woman delicately dropped one cube of sugar into
each cup and then poured in a bit of lemon.
“I like it the same way, child,” she said. “As to how I know who you
are…..well, I have my sources. I know everybody hereabouts because I have
been here a long time. Also,” she added with an impish grin, “the servants do
talk. I am quite aware of what is going on despite my age.”
&nbs
