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Quote by Craig D. Lounsbrough

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Craig D. Lounsbrough

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“Caleb rocked back on his heels, surprised by how good her husky laughter and their repartee made him feel. He wasn’t a man given to bantering with women—with anyone for that matter. Out here in the wilderness, with a woman about to give birth, he wasn’t the banker or the hotel owner. I’m just a man trying to hold his guilt and terror at bay and make sure this mother and child survive.”

“The tiny body was slippery, and he held her tightly, afraid she’d slither out of his grip. He rotated the infant face-up, holding her about ten inches away from his face. The top of her head had a slight cone shape. Her blue-tinged hands pinked. The baby’s eyes were open, alert and seemingly amazed. They connected with his. A jolt of intense feeling, of recognition, flowed between them. As he gazed on the scrunched features of the infant, love surged through him. He’d never felt such a feeling before, and his chest ached with the joyful pressure. Caleb wanted to curl her to his chest and keep her safe. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling a scent that surprised him with its sweetness. “My baby?” Maggie asked. The infant broke eye contact with Caleb and turned her face toward the sound of her mother’s voice. He blinked back moisture from his eyes and grinned. “You have a beautiful daughter.”

“Neemai sat in silence. These were plenty of delicate issues, and the tiniest careless assumption could throw him into the whirlwind of sentimentality. He had speculated an inkling of Scarlet Amorin’s fate, the experience of the world had whispered that something terrible had happened in the house. As for the culprit of the fate, he dared not to guess. Matters of the family tend to be the most frangible affairs, as he had rightly absorbed from his observations in quietude. Things would have been easier if those were in black and white, but it is rather in shades of glaucous and grey, and any reckoning is as good as guesstimate. While his brain reasoned and warned to tread carefully, his heart yearned to hold the Rosie of his imagination. Her pain was in his imagination, he knew that, and it was well past. In real life, it would have been unbearable for her.”

“Come on, Caulder, come on, baby!" By now she jumped up and down like the kids in the stands. Five, four, three... She grabbed her other camera. The buzzer rang and Caulder's body lingered against the side of the bull. He was hung up and he tried to get his hand free. The bull still bucked and twisted, jumped and dropped. Velia grabbed her video camera. If she missed a shot like this, she'd probably be fired by the man himself.”