Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)

by Nora Roberts

When he said, I love you with all of my heart. My darling Astrid, I will never love another, but love you through all of my life, and love you even after death takes me.

“You will never have him,” she says. “Die a bride, and know he’ll come to me. He will come to me, or by your blood on my tongue, bride after bride will join you in death.”

She leaves me there, dying on the floor near the marriage bed I will never share with my beloved. But my ring, my wedding ring. How can I leave this world without it?

She couldn’t wait until it was over and done. And that probably made her an aberration. Weren’t brides supposed to want the fuss and bother? Didn’t a bride want her wedding day to be special, unique, a fairy tale?

She heard music when she opened the door and stepped into the foyer. And saw, a few feet ahead as the foyer gave way to the living room, a woman’s shoe.

Who knew, she thought, that love could snuff out like a candle in a stiff breeze? And leave no trace. None at all.

“Erosion happens gradually.” Winter rubbed Sonya’s shoulders. “A rock’s strong, but it doesn’t notice how the water’s wearing it away.”