The story of Terisa and Geraden began very much like a fable. She was a princess in a high tower. He was a hero come to rescue her. She was the only daughter of wealth and power. He was the seventh son of the lord of the seventh Care. She was beautif...
And then she fell into his arms. It was what he’d dreamed of on sleepless nights, holding her, feeling the press of her breasts to his chest, the flare of her hips in his hands. He forgot all about where they were, why they were alone together. He ...
A woman desires to be a man's last romance, her baby's first love and a person who can live with dignity all her life. As a girl matures to be a woman, her fairy tale imagination gets superseded by her struggle to be a good wife, a good mother and mo...
How can I judge?" she said at last. "To me, he is a hero. To the world a monster." She let her head fall into her arms and started crying quietly. "I miss him! Curse him! I miss him!" Mithorden put a hand on her shoulder and let her cry for a few min...
Butch hesitated. "Annabeth's okay. You gotta cut her some slack. She had a vision telling her to come here, to find a guy with one shoe. That was supposed to be the answer to her problem." "What Problem?" Piper asked. "She's been looking for one of o...
Joseph, you’re out of clean towels.” Lucia poked her head into the living room, the rest of her hidden behind the wall. Her red hair dripped water onto my wooden floors. “She’s in the buff.” Jenna guffawed. Gabriella rolled her eyes, beamin...
There was a small wooden gazebo built out over the water; Isabelle was sitting in it, staring out across the lake. She looked like a princess in a fairy tale, waiting at the top of her tower for someone to ride up and rescue her. Not that traditional...
He watched her for her reaction, or possibly watched her just to watch, his eyes hooded by his lashes and his mouth impassive. A faceless man—such as the one she had dreamed of since she was a child—his identity not obscured by mist or flying san...
Triton: Do you think I was too hard on her? Sebastian: Definitely not! Why, if Ariel was my daughter, I'd show her who was boss. None of this flitting to the surface and other such nonsense. No, sir! I'd keep her under tight control. Triton: You're a...
Halfway to the house Stan stopped and turned to Jane. He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her toward him. "I'm glad we're going steady," he whispered. "So am I." In spite of the reassuring weight of his bracelet on her wrist, Jane suddenly fel...
Ned seemed so different from any other man of her acquaintance, and, certainly, the antithesis of the rake she had set her sights on. She had chosen DeVere as her best prospect, yet after only this short time in Ned's company, she couldn't help ferve...
She hated that will had this effect on her. Hated it. She knew better. She knew what he thought of her. That she was worth nothing. And still a look from him could make her tremble with mingled hatred and longing. It was like poison in her blood, to ...
Well, be careful,” she said, her words deliberate. She quickly twisted her head, as if making certain no one was behind her. When she turned back around, her green eyes were hard and filled with hate. “Because wouldn’t it be terrible if you sli...
She is such a blade—-beautiful, powerful, and deadly to her enemies-—as well as her bond-mate due to her fatal flaw. The questions are—How deep is her flaw and can it be healed? After all, a mortal is not a mearcair blade to be discarded if for...
I have actually known a case where a Woman has exterminated her whole household, and half an hour afterwards, when her rage was over and the fragments swept away, has asked what has become of her husband and her children.
Her father, indulgent in his concern, had opened his library to her, and at last she could read to her heart's content. In all, these past few weeks had been some of the most peaceable of her life. She had the sense of existing inside a fragile pause...
I felt less unhappy than usual because her melancholy expression, the way the vivid colour of her dress almost cut her off from the rest of the world, made her seem somehow lonely and unhappy, and I found this reassuring.
You may know where to touch her, but that doesn't mean you know how to touch her. Take time to learn what she truly desires.
She was not willing to let others narrate her life and her death. While there is one person like her in this world, I will find myself defending both her right to struggle and our obligation to remember.
Betsy liked to talk. Her father always said she got it from her mother, and her mother always said she got it from her father. But whomever she got it from she was certainly a talker.
Liz wrenched her hand from his grasp, and this time, she stepped boldly forward. “I will stay and Michael can go.” Her voice did not waiver as she pronounced her own death sentence. No matter what happened to her, she knew she couldn’t let hi...
