Hunt for Forgiveness_The Body Is Nothing But Someone Else to Overcome_Dream Reader_Quinn At Last...
Catalog Guide:
Hunt for Forgiveness
“I need none of your wisdom this night, Gwyneira.” Einar was quick to speak over the scraping of the front door dragging against cold stone, granting a prowling lioness entrance into her den. The fact that he heard the normally silent woman's arrival at all told him all he needed to know of her mood. If he did not speak first, there would be no chance to say what was needed. “Nor do I need your chastisement.”“Chastisement?” She moved further into the room, light from swinging lanterns caught in a night breeze casting harsh shadows across her lithe form. Dried blood from the village's newest cl...
The Body Is Nothing But Someone Else to Overcome
Kurtz Loggia didn't know how to initially respond during the odd, finicky lull burnt over so many nights without having markedly a single disturbance to his phelgmatic existence within a smallish fifthteen-by-eighteen foot apartment condominium where he stayed whenever he wasn't outgoing with reprehensible attempts at summoning an artistically meaningful living by nosing his way into the illicit care of homely village spinsters who were once talentless socialites like himself, but nowaday were complacent in soliciting the company of surly dotards with dubious pretence, an aspirant poet-cum-phi...
Dream Reader
Dream ReaderRory had been having these dreams, see? He was in a high place and someone who he couldn’t make out was trying to push him off the edge. He was fighting back, of course, but he was being forced backwards, centimetre by centimetre. Then the dream ended with a scream. His.He told his fiancee.“Wow! That’s amazing! What does it mean?”“Too many cheese sandwiches? That ale I had at lunchtime? I thought it tasted funny.”“No, no. It’s a Sign!”“A sign?”“Yes, a Sign. You must go and see a Dream Reader!”He was doubtful. “A dream reader? Don’t they cost money?”She sighed. “What about your Dest...
Quinn At Last... Or Not
"Quinn, hwww.onedoor.ccurry." Ma said from the living room.I tied the last sash around my waist and tucked a loose strand of hair into my bun, then I walked out of my bedroom, embarrassed by the way the strapless bodice on my ballgown pulled and pushed and poked me. I looked like a marshmallow with feet.Tonight was the Village Master's ball. Only ten girls who were fifteen years of age would be chosen as wives for the ten brothers of the Seven Warlords. The rest of the girls would be shipped off to become maids for her royal-snooty-pants' in the Jasminian Islands.It was the biggest party of the century, and...