“He pulled her against his chest, letting her feel his heart thunder its rhythm. Kissing her hair he whispered, the desperation raw, "You are no dream...but flesh and blood. Tell me you are real...oh, please...be real." "Aye, I am real.” — Deborah MacGillivray Copy Share Image
“Witch's spell or not, he would take her, possess her- own her. It wasn't his intent when he kissed her. Fires of damnation! He… — Deborah MacGillivray Copy Share Image
“After Christian's death he'd just existed. He felt nothing, just a sense of emptiness. In some ways he welcomed that hollowness inside of him. It was easier to be numb, not caring beyond the basic needs to survive. But with spring's return, some intangible force stirred inside him, as if his emotions had been frozen through dead of winter. Now… — Deborah MacGillivray Copy Share
“He pulled her against his chest, letting her feel his heart thunder its rhythm. Kissing her hair he whispered, the desperation raw, "You are… — Deborah MacGillivray Copy Share Image
“Words wound deeper than any knife, my lord. Often they fester and never heal.” — Deborah MacGillivray Copy Share Image
