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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Mud and silk, blood and milk, never the twain should meet.” “For if they do.” “Bad luck to you.” “’Tis the Devil you’ll greet.”
The heart had a tendency to harden off after being forced to survive inside a life two sizes too small, deprived of the oxygen of dreams.
“Blood will tell, I swear,” the old woman muttered, then shook her head. “You’d do well to remember a threefold reckoning awaits those who do intentional harm.”
For someone who didn’t approve of spellcraft, this handsome mortal was very good at the charm business.
after waking up in a different world than the one he’d fallen asleep in. The one he found himself in now was full of mystery and magic. Unseen powers. And threats. And yet his old life had perils of its own. The dull progression of an ordinary life that chipped away at a man a day at a time so that he didn’t see the damage done until he found himself sitting alone in a house with nothing to show for it but the slow ticking of a clock on the wall.
In my profession we use faith to see; in science it’s the microscope. With magic, we don’t yet know how to quantify that range of unseen energy. We lack the proper tool. But not so for the witch.”
Intuition knows the truth when heard, but the sound can leave a terrible ringing in the ears.
You had to respect the grapes. That was the first lesson. Wine, after all, was a living, breathing thing. Each wine its own entity, each vintage as unique as the heart and mind of the witch who crafted it.