Notes from the Celestial Café
Hello dear ones,
There are few moments in an author's life more encouraging than discovering that a story has stayed with a reader long after the final page has been turned.
I was delighted recently to receive a 5-star review for Nuts About Love (Love Tales and Recipes) from Reader Views. The reviewer particularly enjoyed the collection's blend of mystical storytelling, historical settings, and the recipes that accompany each tale. They described the stories as memorable and wrote:
"I can...
Dear One,
For many years, the Celestial Café was enough.
Travellers would arrive weary from their journeys. They would find a warm brew, a listening ear, a comfortable chair, and perhaps the answer to a question they had not quite known how to ask.
Some stayed only long enough to finish a cup of tea.
Others lingered until the candles burned low and the stars appeared beyond the windows.
Yet, over time, a curious thing began to happen.
Visitors arrived later and later.
A storyteller would remain by...
Dear One,
You may have noticed that angels are not always as certain as humans imagine.
We learn.
We practise.
We occasionally misunderstand things.
The senior angels assure me this is normal.
At present I am still in training.
This means I spend a great deal of time observing, listening, and trying not to interfere in situations that would be considerably easier if everyone simply followed sensible advice.
Humans rarely do.
Instead, they choose.
And choosing, I am discovering, is one of the most...
The Author is currently unavailable.
She has been abducted by a manuscript.
Attempts at rescue have so far been unsuccessful.
Tea supplies remain adequate.
Characters are reportedly multiplying.
Normal service is expected to resume upon completion of book 2 from The Fifth Suit Trilogy.
Do not worry.
She is safe and has plenty of cake!
Signed
Phineas, Chief Baker of Chaos
Larissa arrived at the Café in the late afternoon to find Phineas in attendance.
This in itself was rarely a reassuring discovery.
He was standing behind the counter wearing an apron that definitely did not belong to him and arranging cups into what appeared to be a strategic formation.
Larissa paused.
"Phineas."
"Larissa."
"What are you doing?"
Phineas brightened.
"Excellent timing. Would anyone like to try a new experimental beverage?"
From various locations throughout the Café, a chorus immediately...
Welcome!
One of the pleasures of keeping an inn is watching what happens after the journey.
Travellers arrive with stories. They share them by the fire, over tea, beneath the stars, and sometimes in the quiet corners where reflections are exchanged as freely as laughter. The tale told at the beginning of an evening is rarely the same tale that exists by morning. New insights emerge, different perspectives are offered, and connections are discovered that no one expected.
Books are much the same.
A...
Dear one,
There is a moment that comes quietly.
Not marked by a date.
Not clearly announced.
Just a subtle shift in how someone looks at you—
or how you begin, unexpectedly, to look at them.
The ones who once felt immovable…
steadfast…
certain…
begin, almost imperceptibly, to change.
It may begin with something small.
A hesitation.
A lapse in energy.
A story repeated.
A task once handled with ease that now requires effort.
Nothing alarming, at first.
Just enough to register.
And then to be dismissed....
Hello Dear One!
The younger angels often assume brewing is simple.
Water. Leaves. Patience.
They are only partly correct.
A brew is an act of attention.
The tea itself matters, of course. The cup matters. The water matters.
Yet none of these matter as much as the person who will receive it.
Some visitors arrive needing comfort.
Others need courage.
Some require silence.
Others need reminding that joy remains possible.
The Celestial Café has never served the same brew twice.
That is because no two souls...
Larissa was arranging fresh lavender in a small blue jug when the bell above the café door chimed.
She glanced up.
The visitor filled the doorway.
Not in an alarming way. In a rather substantial way.
He was a dragon. A large dragon.
A dragon carrying a leather satchel, wearing half-moon spectacles, and holding a neatly folded umbrella despite the complete absence of rain.
For several moments they simply stared at one another.
The dragon adjusted his spectacles.
Larissa set down the lavender.
"Good...
Dear one,
Some we recognise instantly—medical, technological—things we can diagnose, isolate, and often treat. But there are others, less visible and arguably more pervasive, that move quietly through communities, conversations, and even our own inner worlds.
Fear.
Greed.
Envy.
Hate.
Rage.
These emotional and mental states can behave like viruses. They spread quickly, often unnoticed at first, passed along in words, in tone, in silence, and sometimes in the stories we tell ourselves. When they...
Hello Dear One!
A visitor to the Café recently asked whether enlightenment could be maintained forever.
The question lingered long after the tea had cooled.
Many spiritual traditions describe awakening as though it were arriving somewhere.
A summit reached.
A lesson learned.
A destination attained.
Life, however, seems less interested in destinations than in dances.
A wise person once observed:
Before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.
After enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.
The beauty of...
This note was tucked under the cup still warm...
Archangel Azrael # 3
“Most humans are afraid of the Angel of Death,” he said.
Maggie tilted her head slightly.
“But I’m not.”
He watched her for a moment.
“Then there is no need for me to be anything you would fear.”
A pause settled between them.
“I appear as I am needed,” he added quietly.
“Or perhaps… as I am expected.”
What we meet is very often shaped by what we believe we are meeting.
From a conversation in The Pilgrims' Way Cafe
Archangel Azrael is a favourite character it seems - here is another conversation noted...
“How many deaths have you overseen?” Maggie asked.
He paused—only slightly.
“I have no idea. Billions, I would imagine.”
She looked at him, surprised.
He shrugged gently.
“But that’s only from your perspective. From mine… I simply arrive and say—
it’s time.
And a soul sets aside one set of garments
to step into another.”
He glanced sideways at her.
“The soul itself doesn’t end.
It changes rooms.”
She smiled...
Sometimes we find a comment about a favourite character from a book - here's one...
Archangel Azrael #1
“Funny, but you don’t seem to be afraid of me, Maggie.”
“Should I be?” she asked.
“Most humans are scared of the Angel of Death.”
She shrugged lightly. “I’ve seen that fear many times… but I’m not afraid of dying. And so I’m not afraid of you.”
He studied her for a moment.
“That’s most refreshing to hear.”
She smiled faintly.
“I have to say, for a title like Angel of Death, I expected something…...
Archangel Michael: "We're commissioning Melody to tell some of the stories?"
Archangel Metatron: "Yes."
Archangel Michael: "Excellent. A dignified chronicler of celestial matters, history, wisdom and the mysteries of the ages."
Archangel Metatron: "Well... that's not exactly how it's gone."
Archangel Michael: "What happened?"
Archangel Metatron: "The stories escaped into cafés."
Archangel Michael: "The stories what?"
Archangel Metatron: "Readers are now discussing angels over tea and cake."
Archangel...
Dear One,
Something curious happened this week.
Overnight, a small procession of marketers discovered the entrance to the Celestial Café.
One after another they arrived, bearing offerings.
They promised visibility.
Reach.
Funnels.
Optimisation.
Lead generation.
Conversion strategies.
Some wished to increase my authority.
Others wished to improve my brand positioning.
A surprising number seemed deeply concerned about whether I was maximising my opportunities.
The angels found this fascinating.
One of them...
Dear one,
There is a different kind of love that lives between fathers and sons.
Quieter, often.
Less spoken.
Sometimes mistaken for distance.
But it is there.
In the early years, a son often looks upward.
The father is strength.
Competence.
Certainty.
He is watched closely.
Measured against.
Placed, almost without question, on a kind of pedestal.
And the father feels it.
Not always consciously—
but in the way he stands,
in the way he leads,
in the quiet sense of being observed
by eyes that are...
Hello Dear One!
Most people imagine thresholds as grand things.
Castle gates. Cathedral doors. Bridges between worlds.
In truth, most thresholds arrive disguised as ordinary Tuesdays.
They appear as forms submitted. Keys handed over. Train tickets purchased. Phone calls answered. Conversations begun.
A threshold is simply the place where one thing ends and another begins.
Here in the Celestial Café we watch for such moments.
The angels are often more interested in these small crossings than the...
Where the air shifts, and the world slows just enough to let you arrive.
Stay here a moment. Let the present settle around you like warm light. No rush. No leaning forward. Just this breath, this pause, this gentle now.
The Celestial Café has a way of reminding you: your path is your own. Your pace is your own. Your knowing is your own.
You walk your creative life with clarity, integrity, and dimensional alignment — and the ones meant to find you will. They’re already attuned to your frequency....
The Celestial Café is always open.
Here you will find Magical Tea House Fiction featuring angels, cafés, recipes, dragons, tarot readers and extraordinary journeys and stories that nourish the soul.
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