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The Lion, the Fly and the Most Eligible Girl in the World

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Kiera Nixon

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“He had had to be father and mother to her, and he had taken to his tasks with determination, seeking perfection in everything he did. Now, as an adult, she realized how hard her mother's death had been for him, understood the enormity of his loss. The love that her parents had shared had been a beacon of light for her in a dark and dangerous world. She wondered if she would ever have the chance to find such a love herself. As her father talked excitedly about the latest young horse he had bred, Megan saw the years fall away from his face and the lingering sadness lift a little. She owed him everything- her resourcefulness, her skills as a horsewoman, her knowledge of medicinal herbs, as well as her undeniable stubbornness.”

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Book:Lamp Black, Wolf Grey
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“Father is an animal the moment he loves his public reputation more than his children but the father becomes a father of his children, the moment he loves his children more than his public reputation. Fathers who are addicted to their public reputation than their children are plenty whereas transparent and sincere fathers who loves their children than their reputation are few. And that requires sacrifice that proves you are worthy of being a father pf your child!”

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“On the days Walter came to her apartment, to write down the stories of her butterflies, he always prayed with her, that in their weaknesses- both his and hers- God would be strong. That she would rely on the Creator more than her own creation. She needed that strength now to face her demons. To remember the good things about Oliver without so many of the regrets.”

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Book:Shadows of Ladenbrooke Manor
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“The broth was nearly clear and colorless, singing with notes of the sea- and Belle had never actually been to the sea. When she broke her bread to dip, the crust shattered, the crumb inside moist to the point of almost being a custard. The terrine was so rich she managed only one tiny demitasse spoonful. She and her father didn't eat fancily but they ate well enough and even had meat once or twice a week. The herbs that still flourished in her mother's garden spiced up dishes more than it seemed like they should have. They supped well, like all Frenchmen and women. But even Christmas was nothing compared to this. Belle suddenly realized she was shoveling it all in like a character from one of those stories who was tricked into eating magic food until he exploded or grew too large to escape. And a slightly more down-to-earth part of her spoke up warningly, in what she liked to pretend was her mother's voice: You are, at the very least, going to have an extremely upset stomach from this rich new food.”

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Book:As Old as Time
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“Coming back to the village through the snow, under the dark cloudy skies, Belle felt like she had been away for a lifetime. She had, in fact, never left the village by herself before this. There were a couple of overnight trips to fairs with her father, and once or twice during mushroom season they got swept up in the fury and spent a few nights in the forest, gathering morels and truffles and camping out. But that was all, and always with Papa.”

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Book:As Old as Time
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“Becoming a father increased my capacity for love, to love and to be loved. When I fell hook, line and sinker for Helena, I would never have believed that I would be able to give, that I could even consider sharing a single fragment of my heart with another- only her, but as I sit here in the rocking chair and a serene calmness surrounds me, I gaze down upon our four day old twins, Athos and Lucy. While I cradle these tiny little miracles of life in the crook of my arms, another level of love expands within the four chambers of my heart. Everything that once created my tumultuous past has paled into insignificance, and at last I finally feel as if I am not just systematically breathing in oxygen but that I am alive in the truest sense of the word. © J.L. Thomas 2019”

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Author:Jl Thomas
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“I guess I don't know my daughter very well. Because the Jude I knew would cut out that boy's heart for what he did to you tonight.' At the shame of having the revel thrown in my face, I snap. 'You let me be humiliated in Faerie from the time I was a child. You've let Folk hurt me and laugh at me and mutilate me.' I hold up the hand with the missing fingertip, where one of his own guards bit it clean off. Another scar is at its centre, from where Dain forced me to stick a dagger through my hand. 'I've been glamoured and carried in to a revel, weeping and alone. As far as I can tell, the only difference between tonight and all the other nights when I endured indignities without complaint is that those benefited you, and when I endure this, it benefits me.' Madoc looks shaken. 'I didn't know.' 'You didn't want to know,' I return.”

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“Up to the Ancient Skies, caught in the storms of the sea of Galilee, we float, we fear, we grow, we grieve, but we believe. Upon every scary night, there is a starry sky. We flow down with the river. We flow with the purifying hope of the Jordan river; we cry, we sing, like a shelter home of love and liberty. We go down with the river with old pain, new wounds and countless scars. We shall rest so we can heal. Anytime soon, our pain shall cease. Until the river meets the sea, we shall cast away our pain and wash away our tears, for there is nothing left to fear. Out of the depths of misery into a place of love, safety, beauty and mystery, our pain shall drown — down to the depths of the Dead Sea. And so shall it remain through all the ages of all the ancient skies and olive trees.”

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Author:Becky M.R.
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