Cienna's Amulet, A Christmas Romance (Raymara Barwil Romance) by Raymara Barwil Page A

removed the paper.  It was clearly a jewelry box, burgundy with gold leaf trimming. A folded piece of paper fell to the floor.  Cienna grabbed it and unfolded it to reveal her grandmother’s neat, joined up handwriting.
     
    “My Cienna,
     
    Christmas is a special time for us. Please celebrate this season and know that you bring great joy to me. You have been a blessing to my life. You are beautiful, my granddaughter, and more special than you know.
     
    I am proud of everything you have achieved in life and I want you to be happy. You need love, everyone needs love. I know your heart is always hurting but you must learn to open it and know true love. You have so much to give, please try and see that not every man will break your heart like your father did. Your father still loves you, one day this will become clear to you.
    The ring inside the box is magical to me. It led me to meet your grandfather who was the greatest love of my life, my true soul mate. I want you to feel the kind of love we experienced. Keep the ring close to you. It is truly magical.
     
    You are magical, my love. Never forget that.
    Merry Christmas,
    Love always,
    Your Damawyn”
     
    Cienna let the tears flow freely as she opened the box and found, nestled in soft tissue paper, the most amazing ring she had ever seen. It had what looked like an opal stone, the size of a pinky fingernail set in the gold band and was unlike any ring she had ever seen; the design was exquisite. 
     
    As she slipped the ring onto the ring finger of her right hand, she was almost overwhelmed by how much she missed the woman who had raised her, but she knew her grandma wouldn’t want her to spend her life mourning. She walked to the window, admiring the ring as it glistened in the morning light that shone through into Damawyn’s south-facing bedroom. She felt renewed and determined to face the day with strength. 
     
    ###
     
    I do scrub up nicely, even if I do say so myself. Now all I have to do is try not to cry once today! 
     
    Cienna stood looking at herself appraisingly in her full length wardrobe mirror. Her new red dress top accentuated her slim waist and leggings with black leather knee length flat boots finishing the look nicely. She was only five feet and four inches tall, but today she wanted to be comfortable, not tottering in heels.
     
    She had taken a long, hot shower, washed her hair with the designer products she kept for special occasions and taken her time to apply natural looking make up. She never usually wore any -- she had delicate, pretty features and too much make-up would overwhelm her face. She had olive skin, jet black hair that fell to her waist in large defined curls and striking grey eyes which she had accentuated with eyeliner and mascara. She was a freelance hairstylist and make-up artist so she knew just how to pull out all the stops.
     
    Bethany and Alice were her best friends and they had offered to join her for an early Christmas meal when she had confided in them that she just couldn't face a turkey dinner. Both had invited her to join them and their families, but Cienna knew memories of her and Damawyn would ruin it for everyone. 
     
    As she grabbed her jacket and took another look at her new ring, the doorbell rang startling her. The girls weren’t due to arrive for another thirty minutes and she had been about to put their gifts in bags. 
     
    Opening the door she was shocked to see her neighbour, Miguel standing in the doorway with the strangest expression on his face. Cienna’s heart skipped a beat as she looked up into his dark, tan face. His face was so serious that her heart began to pound and her stomach was sinking. What is he doing here? What's happened? 
     
    Miguel quickly smiled, as if he’d been snapped out a daydream, “Hi, I’m Miguel. Miguel Martinez.” 
    “I-I remember… How can I help you? Is everything okay?”  
    “Firstly, I just want to say I’ m so sorry about your