Author: Keilee

A few months ago, after hearing several glowing recommendations, we picked up “Midnight at the Blackbird Café” by Heather Webber. From the very first chapters, we were completely hooked! Not only by the charm of the story, but by the setting itself. It didn’t take us long to realize that the fictional town of Wicklow was inspired by one of our favorite real life places: Mentone, Alabama. That discovery made the book feel even more special to us, like we were reading a love letter to a town we already hold close to our hearts.

As we read, we found ourselves playing a little guessing game trying to match the landmarks, shops, and tucked away corners of Wicklow with the places we’ve wandered through in Mentone. It made us smile to imagine how real people and places might have sparked Heather Webber’s creativity. The story blurred the lines between fact and fiction in the best way, reminding us how magical small towns can be when you look a little closer.

This summer, we returned to the mountains for another fun trip and stepping back into Mentone after reading Webber’s work was such a treat. We walked the same streets, browsed the same quirky shops, and admired the same sweeping views, but this time with an extra layer of wonder. It felt like we had slipped between two worlds, the real and the imagined and it made our trip all the more meaningful.

Since reading that book, we’ve been devouring more of Heather Webber’s Alabama mystical stories. She has such a gift for weaving together cozy settings, unforgettable characters, and just the right touch of magic. In her novels, the towns aren’t just backdrops, they’re living, breathing characters with their own quirks, histories, and secrets. Her heroines are the kind you find yourself rooting for, and the gentle sprinkle of magical realism she adds makes each story feel timeless and enchanting.

Now, we’re eagerly counting down the days until her newest release, “The Forget-Me-Not Library”, which comes out on November 4th. If it’s anything like her other books, it’s bound to be a cozy, heartfelt, and slightly mystical escape perfect for curling up with as the weather turns cooler.

If you love small towns, stories that feel like home, and just a touch of everyday magic, Heather Webber’s books are ones you won’t want to miss.

I’ve always loved Mondays, new notebooks and mornings.
There’s something about those first hours of the day that feels like a pause, a hush before the noise begins. The air is softer, the light stretches slowly across the room, and for a little while, the world hasn’t asked anything of me.

Most mornings begin the same way, with sleepy cuddles and kisses from my puppy. It’s the sweetness before the weight of the day settles into place. Before the emails, messages, errands, or responsibilities, and headlines. After that comes my coffee, my lifeblood, my rocket fuel that keeps me checking off the seemingly never ending to do list.
But like a new notebooks I love seeing the day stretched out in front of me like blank pages waiting to be filled.

Mornings give me time to breathe, to set the tone before the busyness takes over. They whisper that beginnings don’t have to be grand, they can be as simple as a quiet house, a wagging nub, slowly brewing coffee, a few pages of a good book and the promise of a new day.

For me, mornings are a beginning, a chance to breathe, reset, and lean into possibility. They remind me that life is lived in small steps, that beauty can be found in the quiet, and that calm has a way of carrying us through the busiest of days.

I just hung up from a four hour phone call with an old friend. While I would have detested that long conversation with most people this call was whole heartedly welcomed. 

It’s funny how time froze and began again, right where it left off all those years ago the moment I answered the phone. Seven year old me had excellent taste in friends. If you had asked that version, I wouldn’t have been surprised that we had talked for so long, I would’ve been more shocked as to why we had let so much time pass. 

Even with all of those years and all those miles apart, talking to her felt like coming home. There is something special about sharing your current life with someone who was so interwoven with its formation. 

I walked circles in my bedroom as we excitedly discussed books we’ve recently read the same way we sat on my bed discussing different books over a decade ago. Girls with wings now changed to hunky bat boys, so much stays the same. 

After a while I sat on the floor, phone charging, as we discussed the state of the world and it felt like our late night sleepover conversations. If I closed my eyes I could see the 14 year old version of her across from me, that laugh exactly the same. Years of memorizing those mannerisms I can practically see her expressions through the phone. 

There were no long pauses to wade through, no awkward silences or long explanations. No backstories or understanding to navigate, we jumped right in. The conversations ran into each other, topics changing and effortlessly flowing into the next then coming back again. 

The phrase “do you remember when…” vollying back and forth as we reminisced. It moved on from childish crushes into forever loves. Our lives; planted, blossomed, and grown from the same soil. 

All those years ago we met at play practice and bonding over performing.  Today we still continue those passions however slightly altered. Hers with self tapes and days on sets and mine with crowns and social media content. 

We laughed, we shared, we gasped, we laughed to mask the fear of the future and we talked about everything. Four hours flew by in what felt like four minutes. 

I wish I could pick up the phone and call the younger versions of us and let them know that not that much has changed.