So, Gwardian, are you going to stand there, or may I have some privacy so I can bathe? We aren't all as full of ourselves as you are.

We all have scars, Wharick. Mine happen to be on the the outside, " Kathel answered but knew what he said wasn't entirely true. He bore scars on the inside as well.

I'll thank you now, Kathel, " Keirah whispered. Placing a simple, soft kiss on Kathel's lips, she turned and walked away toward her cabin, leaving both men stunned in her wake.

Their eyes drifted directly behind her. At the same time she felt the presence of a rather large, imposing figure, then the sudden heat permeated the air around her. He's behind me, isn't he?

Even though he knew both of their hearts were taken by others, he recognized beauty when he saw it and appreciated it as any male would.

A slow, knowing smile came over Keirah's face. Her heart filled with happiness, believing the Gwarda gypsy sitting next to her at this very moment was worthy of her beloved sister.

Even among the ugliness of evil that resonated throughout the green hills and flowering landscape, Northbrook was simply breathtaking to those who took the time to appreciate it.

I'm pleased to know you realize she is mine, gypsy. Care to explain why it is that I find you here in the Gwarda arena and touching what belongs to me?

You're causing the world to spin again, Keirah, " Wharick teased about her druid gift with nature. "You out of control? Do you need something to settle you down? he asked.

You may run from the calling, but, you will find no real peace until you fulfill your destiny.

Truth was she liked that he came after her. She liked the thought of being under submission to him in an intimate way. It was a welcome desire which Wharick alone sparked.

Energise your desires utilising your heart energy to create the things that you wish for in your life.

As they say, it’s possible to kill and to revive someone using a proper speech. I agree with the statement because I know for sure it is true.

Melissa Pritchard's prose, that darkly lyrical firmament, is brightened by the dizzy luminous arrangement of her stars and satellites, her great gifts to us: humor, irony, kindness, brilliance.

Everyone likes flattery; and when you come to Royalty you should lay it on with a trowel.

Let nothing be called natural In an age of bloody confusion, Ordered disorder, planned caprice, And dehumanized humanity, lest all things Be held unalterable!

... the novelist is bound by the reasonable possibilities, not the probabilities, of his culture.

The crowds at Flushing Meadow are about as impartial as a Nuremberg Rally.

Art and love survive war, revolution and death. Things continue. What we put into the earth while we are alive continues beyond us.

I do find it bizarre that people find it bizarre that I've grown up.

Listen, a lot of religions have fundamentalists.