The rich scent of my favorite caffeinated beverage sends trickles of pleasure across my skin as I step inside. Is there anything better than coffee? Chocolate maybe and sex ranks very close I suppose.
In hindsight, the grand hero ideal she always thought he encompassed chipped away and all that remained was a cheap imitation. He embodied everything she’d hidden from in her adolescence. Boyfriends, relationships, and sex all led to disaster. Bein...
They were not a family anymore. They were strangers. Tied together by chains, but they had rusted, and there was no hope for them to reconnect. Something had disappeared, and perhaps it was their sanity.
I threw my hands on my hips, shocked by the irony. A Mather helping a Greensmith? Hell was freezing over somewhere beneath our feet and every kind of farm animal was sprouting wings to fly.
My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn’t let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips to his, soft at first then hard with desire.
He kissed me tenderly as my heart thumped out of control. My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn’t let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips t...
This time, I invited it in. I felt the darkness tame my impetuous nature, allowing me to feed slowly on the hatred and control it. The coldness flowed through my veins and to the lengths of each limb. The icy darkness pooled in my chest and chilled m...
She counted her blessings, rather than her misfortunes.
It is not a Christmas tree!" said the King, so firmly that all the girls stopped jumping about. "This is a house of mourning. It is nothing more than a tree. I thought it would look nice. Inside. That is all.
She looked at him, his soft brown eyes and tall form, and contemplated raising herself on her toes and kissing his ear, or his cheek... Instead, impulsively before leaving, she reached up and smoothed his mussed hair. Mr. Bradford beamed.
Love was always conditional: anyone who thought otherwise was a fool.
Her entire life was obeying orders. She’d left her Father behind, only to fall into the hands of another dictator. Was her life her own anymore, or was she a puppet on a string, dancing to Ryan’s tune?
Down with tyranny!' Bramble cried. 'Aristocracy! Autocracy! Monocracy! Other ocracy things! You are outnumbered, sir! !
He's around the twist,' said Azalea. 'Breaking all the windows? He's mad.' 'Ah, no,' said the King. 'It's only madness if you actually do it. If you to break all the windows in the house and drown yourself in a bucket but don't actually do it, well, ...
Honestly, we don't kick or bite or throw potatoes at all our guests." A crooked smile touched Lord Bradford's lips. "Your family has spirit," he said, taking his hat from Azalea. "I enjoyed the evening." "Well, yes, you've just come from a war," said...
Lord Teddie?" she said. "Will you stay for tea?" " " said the carpet.
Mr. Bradford," she said. "I'm not going to propose to you." The twinkle in Mr. Bradford's eyes faded. So did his smile. He managed to keep it on his face. It looked painful. "Oh," he said. "Mr. Bradford?" "Yes?" "Would you mind it so very much if...y...
A muffled voice startled them both. "When are you going to her?" They pulled away. In the ballroom windows, noses and hands pressed against the glass, were the girls. They stood among the prickly rosebushes, beaming wicked little grins. Delphinium an...
Ah, Azalea," said the King. "He's not going to be the one proposing." The springs in Azalea's feet went . "Sorry?" she said. "You him, you know." The King shifted, uncomfortable. "It would be highly inappropriate for to propose to . The Delchastrian ...
Death was easy. Life was complicated.
If she were honest, weakness should be masked at all times. Any weakness could, and would be exploited.
