Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland, #1)

by Kristen Ashley

Valentine. Her hair was a dark, shining auburn, real as far as I could tell. Her skin was alabaster. Her body was long and very thin. Her descent, she declared, was pure Creole. In other words, her people were there before our people were there (her people being the Europeans and when she explained this to us during our first meeting with her a couple of days ago, after, of course, corresponding with her for months to set up this gig, it was she who added the emphasis). She had a kickass place in the French Quarter. She had major class from her perfectly coiffed head to her killer Jimmy Choo clad toes. She reeked of money even more than me, and I was loaded. And, incidentally, she was, I’d learned from a variety of reliable sources, an extremely powerful witch.

“Love is everything.”

“She is going to Lunwyn, a beautiful, snow-covered country at the very top of the Northlands.

happiness is a line, and that line has degrees. There is bliss at one end and there is contentment at the other.

“There are as many ideas of what honor is as there are people,

I was five six. He had to be six three or six four. His hair was very dark, very thick with a bit of wave and it curled around the turtleneck of his sweater that was a dark brown, so dark it was nearly black.

His features were tan, sharp, strong and prominent. Heavy brow, jutting square jaw, carved cheekbones, full lips with tons of ridges in them. If his look wasn’t so dark and extremely pissed off, he’d be hot.

And I saw his eyes were a weird shade of light olive green, not green or brown or hazel but light olive green surrounded by a mass of dark curling lashes.

I had also adopted a cat, a huge, fat, ginger named Penelope.

Bloody hell, his wee wife could have been hurt.

Life was meant to be lived, every breath was a gift, every risk was worth taking.

“It was beyond anything I could have wished it to be. You are, my wee Finnie, beyond my wildest dreams.”

never look back. Always look forward. Always look where you’re going. Never waste time on where you’ve been. You’ve been there so you don’t have to take that time, and wasting any time, even a breath, is a mistake. Memories can be shared of the good times, but they need to be shared while your eyes are to the horizon, faced forward.

“I’m coming to you, baby,” I whispered to Frey, but it came out naturally, my lips moved with my words, and I blinked. I blinked! Actually blinked, my eyelids moving and everything. Holy moly! “No, my love, I’ve come to you.” I heard a beautiful, sweet, achingly familiar voice behind me.