The problem with Seonid, Callum thought, was that she attracted trouble like iron to a lodestone. This particular trouble leaned in close to Seonid, whispered something that made her laugh. Callum seethed in his corner. He was not jealous. The idea would not have occurred to him. It was not the fact of the flirtation … Continue reading Lodestone
The conversation did not go as she had planned. "You are leaving again." It was not a question. Hand on the doorknob, Seonid turned and smiled, radiating as much reassurance as she could muster. "No, no. I will return soon." She stepped closer to him and murmured, "You know that I am yours completely, my … Continue reading Promises
The first thing he made her do was burn the gown. She tore the beautiful rose silk into narrow strips and fed them, one by one, into the flames. It smelled like burning hair. When he wasn't looking, she tucked a scrap of cloth into the pocket of the too-large linen trousers he had given … Continue reading Ghosts of Desire
Seonid was not an idiot. She knew what happened to a body subjected daily to the treacherous sweetness of her particular vice, the heady, careening slide into anonymity. She knew what it meant when the night tremors and sweats came earlier each day. She was no three-penny fool, mewling and lurking at the edges of alleys, hoping to … Continue reading No Three-penny Fool
"You brought her here? Are you insane?" Marna glowered at the three of them. This was not the reaction Callum had expected. "We thought you'd be pleased," he said, allowing a hint of vexation to creep into his voice. Had they not just found a piece of the puzzle? "Really." It was not a question. "Pleased … Continue reading Sanctuary
Christine Hanolsy 