“Hunter’s name drifted to him on the wind, the call barely discernible yet shrill, like the whisper of a lost soul searching… — Catherine Anderson Copy Share Image
“A blur of movement, Hunter threw the fur onto the riverbank and waded toward her. She couldn’t touch bottom and, despite the… — Catherine Anderson Copy Share Image
“Hunter’s name drifted to him on the wind, the call barely discernible yet shrill, like the whisper of a lost soul searching… — Catherine Anderson Copy Share Image
“She stared at the crude stone medallion that rose and fell against her bosom. And then it struck her. El Lobo, the… — Catherine Anderson Copy Share Image
Man is the hunter; woman is his game. The sleek and shining creatures of the chase, we hunt them for the beauty… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
