(Vintage frost covers the meaning for ambrosial which
according to the dictionary is exceptionally pleasing to
taste or smell; especially delicious or fragrant and worthy
of the gods or divine. 

Ambrosial Frost resides in the deepest recesses of the forest, along the mist of the river’s edge, but more so it exists in the depths of one’s heart. Walking far enough could bring one collectible delights, obscure inspiration and perhaps a moment of curious dreams.)

~Chapter One~

In the village of Ambrosial Frost, tucked away in the outlining forest lives Aimee. The cottage is white washed and the shutters are of an Autumn orange with matching flower boxes beneath. Sounds of birds, especially geese are always present. The creek directly behind her cottage is still today and wide in garth as
the rain has stopped.