
"In the spring of our journey, the gods breathe lovely inspiration across the land. As we leave my estate, I wait on the pinnacle of a hill. Tender shoots of green have come forth from every dark holt, spreading across each dire heath until the world is in blossom once again. A young bright sun runs with the Ram, high in the sky."
— from the novel Sinful Folk
Published on November 25, 2013 07:01