I'm Writing

NOTHING
was more frustrating to Marie-Anne than lying in bed crippled knowing that
precious time was slipping through her fingers like golden grains of wheat. Her
wounded ankle grating her nerves, her thoughts solely on getting to the town of
Quebec. She was in constant fear of being discovered by Augustin or Hubert and
somehow being forced into returning to Trois-Rivières. 


Excerpt from Chapter 15 of Lady of Destiny