The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 2

by Beth Brower

Tybalt, bathing himself in the window seat, gave her a dignified slow double blink and went back to his ablutions.

“St. George is not the only one who can slay a dragon, Emma Lion. I’ve seen you wield a sword.”

And moving on we did. But not before I smiled at hearing the word betwixt spoken aloud. Betwixt. Betwixt. I digress.

The morning of the Jane Eyres’ Conclave has arrived.