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“Reading is not a hobby,” she said. “It is a way of life.”
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man and woman in possession of a false marriage license must be in want of separate beds. Unfortunately, when Daniel and Alice entered their suite in Starkthorn Manor, they found only one—which quite frankly would not have come as a surprise had they read more exciting literature than was their habit.
All perception of time had long since fled for its life, taking with it a large proportion of her sanity.
Three wicked women who had run away from who they were supposed to be and found themselves, found each other; three wild women holding hands, sharing laughter, as they danced together in the midnight sky, beneath a yellow moon.
