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Quote by Lynsay Sands

“Squeak scrambled down his body to hers and disappeared inside her gown again. She felt him squirm around between her breasts, finding a comfy spot, and then glanced up to see Payton walking beside them, staring wide-eyed at where the stoat had disappeared. Catching her eye he grinned. "I did wonder where ye kept him hidden all the time. Now I ken." "Aye, now ye ken," the Wolf growled with irritation. "So ye can stop ogling the lass. She's betrothed to another." Claray turned to him with surprise. "Nay. I'm no'. Remember? I told ye. I was betrothed to Bryson MacDonald, but he and his parents were murdered while I was still a bairn. I ha'e no betrothed now." "See. She has no' betrothed now," Payton said cheerfully, and then confided to her, "Fortunately enough, m'lady, neither ha'e I. Mayhap we should get to know each other better and see if we would no' suit each other.”

Quote by Lynsay Sands

Book:Highland Wolf
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Highland Wolf

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Lynsay Sands
Lynsay Sands

Lynsay Sands is a renowned author known for her works that blend fantasy and romance elements. The exact dates of her birth and death are unknown. more

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“Harvey wanted to dive into his ugliness; he intentionally reached for those long hours of soul desolation. He waited. He paced, ready to face down whatever was to come. Paulette’s, though, busted loose uninvited, catching her completely off guard when she was already hurting, feeling crumbled, and vulnerable. When all she really wanted was some quiet gentle feelings for a change. A few flowers. Some sunshine. A way out of all that inner torment for even just a moment. Had she had brought only nastiness out of her childhood? Hadn’t there been anything sweet she could remember instead? As she wandered back to her cabin, searching for even a single fond memory, light faded everywhere around her. Aw, c’mon, she thought. Everyone had some happy childhood memories. She had to have at least a couple. How about the coloring? Children enjoy coloring; how about that? She’d spent hours and days on her art. It was as close as she could remember to having her Mamma stand over her with anything even remotely resembling approval. Her books and comics could be tales of Jesus, but coloring books had to be Old Testament because “No child’s impure hand could touch a crayon to the sweet beautiful face of our beloved Lord and savior Christ Jesus.” So the little girl had scrunched down over Daniel in the lion’s den. Samson screaming in rage, pain, and terror as they blinded him with daggers and torches. The redder she made the flowing wounds of a man of God shot full of arrows, the richer the flames around those three men being burned in an iron box, the longer Mamma let her stay out of that closet. - From “The Gardens of Ailana”

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Author:James A. Chu
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