Eena Quotes

Quotes tagged as "eena" (showing 1-30 of 52)
Richelle E. Goodrich
“Don't ever give up.
Don't ever give in.
Don't ever stop trying.
Don't ever sell out.
And if you find yourself succumbing to one of the above for a brief moment,
pick yourself up, brush yourself off, whisper a prayer, and start where you left off.
But never, ever, ever give up.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Life is a valuable and unique opportunity
to discover who you are.
But it seems as soon as you near
answering that age-old question,
something unexpected always happens
to alter your course.
And who it is you thought you were
suddenly changes.

Then comes the frustrating realization
that no matter how long life endures,
no matter how many experiences
are muddled through in this existence,
you may never really be able
to answer the question....

Who am I?

Because the answer, like the seasons,
constantly, subtly, inevitably changes.
And who it is you are today,
is not the same person you will be tomorrow.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Why is it we must suffer the loss of something so dear before we realize what a treasure we had?
Why must the sun be darkened before we feel how genuinely impossible it is to live without its warmth?
Why within the misery of absence does love grow by such bounds?
Why must life be this way?
It is a strange existence where such suffering makes us far better people.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Don’t simply exist in this world, but grasp life’s potential by the jacket. Dare it to be all it can. Make life historical—a gripping account of accomplishment. Make life a mystery—a challenging, bold adventure. Make life heartfelt—an enduring, poetic romance. Whatever it is you make of your world, live the fairy tale.”
Richelle E. Goodrich

Richelle E. Goodrich
“The most difficult challenge an honest man will ever face is having to choose between duty and love.
One creates a man of honorable character―a life worth dying for.
The other creates a vulnerable soul that madly yearns for either death or immortality.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Return of a Queen

Richelle E. Goodrich
“You can capture this body of mine, take away my freedom and enslave me.
You may even have the power to capture my soul and sentence me to the realm of eternal darkness.
But my dreams you cannot touch. They are my will―the very essence of who I am.
In them I laugh.
In them I cry.
In them I love.
And in them.....I live.
My dreams are untouchable and unceasing.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Imagine in vibrant, wonderful detail your heart’s desire—a reality only you can envision, an adventure only you can direct.
Then cradle your creation. Caress it. Mold it. Coddle it until it comes to life.
And when your precious treasure grows so grand as to steal your breath away, set it free for all the world to experience. For that is how you live your dreams.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“I understand it was Derian who spoiled everything. He purposefully tainted your view of me and forced you to go along with him. I know none of what happened was your idea or your desire, Eena.”

She didn’t get up, but spoke from her curled position. Her voice was weak, still heavy with despair. “Derian didn’t force me to do anything.”

“But if he hadn’t influenced you, we would be enjoying a pleasant dinner again, telling stories and laughing. I’m sure that would be the case. You would be happy……and so would I.”

Eena chuckled without amusement.

“You have to admit we shared some very enjoyable evenings, didn’t we? There’s really no reason we can’t put this whole mess behind us and start from where we left off.” He sounded genuinely serious.

“You forget,” she reminded him, “I heard your conversation with the Ghengats. This isn’t about Derian, it’s about you.”

“Alright,” he admitted with an acquiescent sigh, “so I’m not everything you’d hoped for. But really, what man can ever live up to any woman’s terribly high expectations?”

This got her attention. She almost stood up to face him, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Leaning forward, she retorted, “Expecting a man to respect you, to be honest with you, and, oh yes, to not be a shameless murderer—I don’t think those are overly high expectations!”

He shrugged, casually excusing his faults. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“What do you want?” she finally asked, exasperated.

He squatted to her level and stated his desire. “I want you.”

Eena thought the expression on his face—the look in his weary blue eyes—appeared strangely sincere. But there was one thing she had learned from all this: never trust a master of deceit.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue

Richelle E. Goodrich
“The calling that has been thrust upon you is likewise as demanding and daunting. I understand how you feel, believe me. But we need you, Eena. I would say I’m sorry, but……honestly I’d have no other woman take your place. You are exactly what we need. And yes, it does require a great deal of sacrifice, but you don’t have to bear these burdens alone. We are all here to help you. And believe me there isn’t one of us who wouldn’t give his last breath to defend yours so you might go on to heal Harrowbeth. Don’t block us out. Don’t think you have to stand alone. Please wake up and know that I understand. And I promise I won’t say, ‘I told you so.’”

The room fell quiet. Eena didn’t move. Derian could see how her breathing continued smoothly in and out just as before.

“I’ll give you some chocolate if you wake up.” It was a last-ditch effort. “I’ve got plenty of it, and I don’t care for the stuff.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Brazen it out! Throw away the scabbard! Grit your teeth, buckle down, and die with your boots on! Or in other words, be determined and resolved until you accomplish the thing you set out to accomplish.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Eena had thought the whole idea of his picture was absolutely wonderful and had asked Willum what kind of animal she might be. He’d responded after only a moment of thought.

“I think you’d be a crioness.”

“Why is that?”

“Because they can fly.”

“Why would that remind you of me?” She’d been unable to guess his reasoning.

“Because few animals can fly. You can do things others can’t do. Like flying. It’s magic.”

“Oh. How very clever.”

The comparison had left her both impressed and flattered.”
Richelle E. Goodrich

Richelle E. Goodrich
“You know the story.” The Nalnom rotated his hand in the air as if she should recall it.

“I don’t. I’ve never heard the story.”

Joshlon summarized it for her. “Prometheus was turned into a dragon by his angry lover, Naradite. She refused to turn him back into his manly form. He became the first fire-breathing dragon—Naga the Terrible.”

Eena dropped her lower jaw. “What?”

“Naradite turned Prometheus into a dragon,” Joshlon repeated. “Naga.”

“And Prometheus is Edgar’s father?” She was sure the surrounding stares were the result of her virtually shouting out the question.

Joshlon answered with some hesitance in his voice. “I don’t know who Edgar is, but Edgarmetheus was supposedly the son of Prometheus, the illegitimate child of him and his lover, Naradite.”

“Oh. My. Gosh!” Eena exclaimed. “Naga is Edgar’s father!”

Joshlon’s lip curled. He didn’t look like he was following her emotional outburst. “Sha Eena, are you trying to tell me that this is all for real? And Naga is the undefeatable enemy you’re fighting?”

Her hazel eyes focused on him instantly. “Oh, no, no, not Naga! Out of all the immortals, he’s the nice one!”

Joshlon looked confused. “Naga the Terrible is the nice one?”

“Yes,” Eena nodded assuredly. “Edgar is the…” She halted mid-sentence. Joshlon had stopped moving. In fact, all the surrounding Nalnoms were frozen in place, skeptical expressions stuck on their faces. Her eyes fell closed when she heard the disgruntled voice behind her.

“I’m the what?” he grumbled lowly. “I’d really love to hear the end of that sentence, Amora.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Why don’t you just spit it out?” she said sharply. “Just say what I know you’re dying to say—‘Eena, I told you so!’

“All I’m trying to say is that if you hadn’t used those powers in the first place, Gemdorin would never have known about them, the dragon’s heart would never have been uncovered, and consequently you would never have had to abuse those powers to defeat him. Then we wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.”

She summed it up for him concisely. “In other words, ‘I told you so!'
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“The woman laughed again. She was the loudest person in the cave. Eena wondered if perhaps she was talking to a female Ghengat. Curiosity got the best of her and she turned around to look, surprised to find neither a Ghengat nor a Harrowbethian woman, but a Mishmorat. A striking, cheetah-spotted Mishmorat with straight lengths of charcoal hair and the most alluring dark eyes in existence. This bronzed female was the same size as Eena but observably more muscular. She appeared to be a mix of cheetah, Arabian princess, and gladiator in tight-fitting pants. Eena paused, dropping the stone in her hands.

“Kira?” she breathed.

“Hmmm,” the woman grumbled. Her painted eyes scrunched with displeasure. The look was still stunning. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

Eena gawked as if a legendary ghost had been resurrected. “You’re alive?”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Tell me you didn’t,” she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. “Please tell me you didn’t take advantage of these poor people.”

“I didn’t,” he chirped.


With an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. “Amora, you’re not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…”

“Temple?” she cried, cutting him off. “You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you’re God now?”

Perturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. “No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit…..god-like.”

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“If you would let me finish,” he went on, “these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well.”

“You’re despicable.”

He frowned at the insult. “Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so.”

“You were that impressive to them, huh?”

“Apparently.” His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”

“No way.” She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him.

“And why not?”

“Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you’ll want to show off with some shockingly grand entrance. I’m not going to take part in a game of deceit.”

“I’m not deceiving anyone,” Edgar disputed. “I can’t help it if they happen to think I’m perfectly magnificent.”

His pompous view of himself earned a nasty look as well as a lecture. “I can’t believe you’re okay with selling people lies that affect the way they live and think! You’re not even close to being a god, Edgar, and yet you allow them to accept you as some sort of deity because of your unusual abilities. For centuries now you’ve abandoned this world and a population who probably looked to you and your lousy sisters for help. It’s all a big, disgusting sham!”

Edgar pouted like a child. “Fine—spoil all my fun. We’ll go do something else. Something that doesn’t include your poor, fragile, stupid mortals.”

“They’re not stupid.”

“They think I’m a god,” he snapped.

That was a pretty good argument.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Eena worried to Ian in her thoughts. (You’re not going to let him walk away thinking what I think he’s thinking, are you?)

(You won't change his mind. The evidence is a little suggestive. You should have just stayed behind me.)

(Oh, this is all my fault?)

(Well, you were the one swimming in your underwear.)

(And you’re the one who took your shirt off!)

(You think the alternative would have been better?)

She shuttered at the thought of the Braetic stumbling across her in her underclothes.

“Cale,” Eena said in another attempt to convince the stranger. Somehow she managed to sidestep Ian’s effort to halt her, and she approached the man. “I am not messing around with my protector. I am, and always have been, true and faithful to Derian. It’s just……a lot of weird things have happened lately.”

The Braetic looked willing to consider a good excuse. “Such as?”

“Well,” she started, casting a furtive glance at Ian. He was shaking his head, conveying strong disapproval. She ignored him.

“Okay, well…..I’ve been fighting these immortals who are bent on using me to break free from an imprisoning gem where they were sentenced to stayed locked up for eternity. They nearly annihilated a world of Viiduns—that’s how awful they are! But one of these immortals has control over my necklace, and her brother keeps transporting me and my protector all over Moccobatra in search of pieces to a star-shaped platform they intend to use to free their bodies which have been trapped for over three-thousand years now. We were sent here at an inopportune—and highly embarrassing—moment to find the final piece to the platform. It’s been a nightmare just trying to stay alive!”

“Wow,” Cale breathed, not looking half as concerned as Eena thought he ought to. “So these immortals are using you and trying to kill you at the same time?”

She shook her head. “No, no, only the dragons are trying to kill me…or they were trying to kill me until Naga put a stop to them.” Eena heard Ian’s hand smack against his forehead. She saw humor sweep over the Braetic’s face. It made her angry.

“Dragons too, huh?” Cale snickered.

“It’s the truth!” she insisted.

(Eena, just forget it. You’re only making it worse.)

She ignored her protector’s advice again. “Cale, I’m telling you the honest-to-goodness truth. Do you know the story of Wanyaka Cave? The red-gemmed prison and the two spirit sisters?”

Completely out of patience, Ian broke into the conversation, rudely speaking over his queen. “We’ll be on our way now, sir. We apologize for trespassing.”

With a big grin on his face, the Braetic offered a friendly alternative. “Why don’t the pair of you accompany me home. I’m sure my wife can round up some suitable clothing for you. Those immortals must have a ripe sense of humor, leaving you alone in the woods without any decent attire.” He caught a chuckle in his throat. “That is unless it was the dragons who took the shirt off your back.”

“Dragons are immortals!” Eena snapped, as if any fool ought to know it.

Ian flashed her a harsh look. “We would greatly appreciate the help, sir.”

“Oh, it’ll cost you something,” Cale informed them, “but we can discuss that on our way.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“But you will die, Amora.”

“I know.” She couldn’t help but smile at his bemusement. “It’s a fact I’ve always known, just like my ancestors before me. Don’t you see? That’s what makes us who we are. That’s what makes life valuable, Pallador, knowing that each and every day we live is a gift. Therein lies mortality’s great value. We cherish it because of its temporality. It is precious because it is fleeting.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“It’s perfect,” she softly sighed.

“Just like in our dream,” Ian agreed.

“Almost.” Her eyes flickered sideways to catch Ian’s handsome profile. A tiny grin inched up higher at the corner of his mouth. His shoulders slumped under the weight of expectations that he perceived clearly in her thoughts.

“You want too much from me, Eena. Perfection is a tall order to fill.”

“This moment is already perfect,” she assured him.

“Until I disappoint you by burping during a wet, slobbery kiss.”

She groaned his name with a hint of disgust. “You wouldn’t dare ruin this moment on purpose.”

“No,” he admitted, “no I wouldn’t.” He smiled again, but there remained real concern in his eyes. “I’m afraid you’re anticipating a lot. It isn’t going to be like it was in our dream. All the mystical things that happen in dreams don’t happen in reality. That experience was…well… beyond duplicating.”

“Then don’t kiss me at all,” she decided. “Just stay here with me and I’ll be content.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

Richelle E. Goodrich
“That’s when Eena cut in. Both Ravelly and Unan looked to her as she announced, “My favorite part of the book is at the very end.”

“Where Imorih battles the three-headed dragon,” Unan presumed.

Eena shook her head. “Nope.”

“Afterwards, where Imorih befriends the beast and earns his trust,” Ravelly guessed.

Eena shook her head again. “No, sir. I mean the very end.”

Unan’s brow crinkled as he tried to recall what came next in the story. “Where she finds her prince who was held captive by none other than the same three-headed dragon?”

The young Sha shook her head a third time.

“I know! When the dragon flies them on his back to the edge of their homeland! That would be quite the experience, wouldn’t it?” Ravelly seemed certain he had guessed the finishing act of the story.

“That’s not the very, very end,” Eena grinned.

“But that’s the last page,” Unan contended, his finger pointing at the final leaf in the book.

Wahlister was the one who finally guessed the correct answer. “They kiss on the dragon’s back at the very end. That’s where they promise to never allow anything, even death, to separate them again.”

“Yes!” Eena chirped. “That’s the best scene of all.”

“I don’t recall that promise,” Ravelly admitted.

Unan assured the old Grott, “It’s right here.” He read the line that told of a promise made sure by a kiss. “Their lips sealed the whispered vow, ‘We shall never part again, even if our fate is to haunt one another in death.’” After reading it, he groaned aloud.

“Only a woman would remember that line.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Ravelly pointed to the illustration as he told his friend that he used to read the same story nightly to his son, Wahlister. “Imorih’s Journey—quite the moralistic quest.”

Unan nodded in agreement. “I read it to Ian and Eena when they were children.” Then he held up the opened page with the picture of Imorih and the tiny, shouldered bug. He asked curiously, “Why do you say this is your favorite part, Master Ravelly?” The question caught Eena’s interest. Her ears tuned in to their conversation, but her eyes continued to scan the lively crowd below.

The old Grott went on to explain. “That is the part where Imorih realizes the whispered voice she has been listening to, the advice she has been heeding, doesn’t belong to her conscience as she first supposed. It shocks her to learn that for the more part of her journey she has been following the promptings of a negligible, albeit well-intentioned, creature. That’s when two things happen in her life. First, she comprehends how cunning and manipulative the power of suggestion can be. Secondly, she learns to recognize the difference between her own voice—her own desires—and someone else’s.”

Unan hummed a sound of accordance. “That’s right. Things change quite drastically after that discovery, don’t they?”

“Yes, yes, they most certainly do. For the best, I recall.”

“Because she becomes master of her own destiny after that.”

“As we all should be.”

Unan nodded, examining the illustration once again. “Yes, as we all should be.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Stop tormenting Derian.”

“Me?” Edgar gaped at her with a clearly fake look of innocence.

“Yes, you.”

“And what about you? When will you stop tormenting him?” Edgar moved past the young queen to approach the unmoving captain. He circled the man as though he were checking out a statue on display

“I’m not tormenting him; why would you say that?”

“You have the poor guy believing you actually intend to marry him.” Edgar stopped to fix the captain’s collar, raising it up high and stiff around his neck.

“I do intend to marry him.” Eena followed her immortal watchdog and folded down the captain’s collar, repositioning it as it had been.

“Oh please,” Edgar groaned. “You’ve had two opportunities to do so, and on both occasions you turned him down.” Edgar elevated the captain’s elbow—adjusting him like a mannequin—leaving it in an awkward position. “The council expressed a desire for you to marry, and you nearly hyperventilated over the mere suggestion. And just recently, due to his own paranoia, Derian all but begged you to marry him. Your refusal couldn’t have been more swift or more adamant.”

Eena returned the captain’s elbow to his side as she retorted, “I’m only seventeen, Edgar! I have no desire to marry anyone right now. But when I am ready, Derian will be my husband.”

Edgar took hold of the captain’s outreaching arm and shoved it forcefully down. “He will not.”

“He will so!” Eena raised the arm back to where it had been and warned her rival, “Don’t touch him again, Edgarmetheus!”

“Fine, fine,” the immortal ceded. Then with a smug grin he added, “If this had been Ian, you would never have let me touch him in the first place.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“They went back to scooping up breakfast, licking the mess off their fingers. Soon the pile of berry mush was gone and their tongues were dyed a nice midnight blue. Ian seemed in a good mood, sticking his tongue out playfully at his best friend. Eena did likewise, right back at him. She was happy he was smiling, even if his teeth were purple.

(You’re too much fun, Eena,) Ian announced in her mind. (I’m really glad we’re friends.)

(Me too,) she agreed. (Best friends.)

Ian leaned back on his hands and watched the waves roll in from far off. The swells were building into large, flat-crested waves.
(Angelle never thought like you do. You’re creative and kinda crazy. Her thoughts were always more simple and, well…..normal.)

(Yeah, well, deadly dragons and evil witches tend to suck all the normal right out of you,) she grumbled.

(I suppose.)”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Eena turned aside, breathing shallowly as her mind raced with questions. She was glad he couldn’t read the confusion that swooped her up like a passing tornado. Was it even possible to genuinely love more than one man?

Yes. Oh, yes.

She knew it because her heart irrefutably felt it. She loved Derian; it was true. She wasn’t trying to convince herself of it, no matter what Edgar said. She yearned deeply for her captain.

But she loved Ian too. She always had. Only she purposefully, appropriately, had set those feelings aside when he made the decision to pursue Angelle.

But Angelle was gone now.

No, Eena thought to herself, this changes nothing. She scolded her heart for longing for something spent and ended, for even considering the possibility. Her with Ian? No, no, it had to remain in the past.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“I hate you, Edgar. I hate you with all my heart.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“I know they don’t respect the lives of others…”

“Mortals,” he specified, “who exist for a brief moment and then die off.”

Her voice rose as she argued with him. “I speak of people with very valued lives, Edgar. It may seem like a moment to you, but to me it is eternity.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Edgar! Life is valuable—period. And because mine can be easily taken away, it becomes even more valuable and precious. Yours, you take for granted because you’ll never lose it. Mine, I cherish because it’s fleeting. For that reason alone I can argue that my life is of the greatest worth.”

His eyebrows pulled together over a tangled scowl. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to understand her reasoning or if she had merely managed to upset him.

“Never mind,” she mumbled. “I don’t think you can appreciate what you’ve never experienced.

“That works both ways, Amora.”

Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“She imagined him leaning against the shuttle, entertaining thoughts of scolding her for dressing like a ragged commoner. Never mind that her present outfit was light years ahead in comfort.

(Actually, he’s wishing he had been less critical of you earlier. He feels bad that you won’t acknowledge his presence, and he blames himself.)

(Quit it, Ian. I’m not going to feel sorry for him.)

She caught her protector’s shrewd grin, highlighted by the fire’s glow. (You already do, Queenie.)

(This talent of yours is really annoying.)

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “That’s not what you thought earlier when you wanted to get ahold of Efren.”

“One tiny rosebud in a handful of thorns,” she retorted.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Sevenah resumed staring up at the darkness. The sun had set entirely, giving way for the appearance of a speckled night’s sky. It seemed the more she stared, the greater the number of stars. She pondered the immensity of the universe and how it resembled an artist’s black canvas peppered with a haphazard splattering of white paint.

“I think there probably is life out there a lot like our own. I can’t imagine so many suns—so many planets—and not at least one of them being something like ours.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Eena focused on the younger version of herself. Her hair was tied back with a pink ribbon. The ruffled dress she wore was soiled up to the waist in wet grains of sand. A short, square shovel was gripped tightly as the child concentrated on her digging efforts.

Curious, Eena stepped closer to the girls. Ian followed along silently. Eena could feel his eyes on her, searching her profile before turning to the sand scene. She approached her younger self and stopped to watch. At first, she smiled at the darling ponytailed child. Then the spoiled girl’s mouth opened.

“Angee,” the five-year-old called the younger version of Angelle. “Go get water.”

The older child jumped up at the command. “Yes, Eena.”

“A whole bucket full.”

“Yes, Eena.”

“Angee, don’t step on my holes!”

The older girl quickly picked up her foot, checking to be sure there were no child-made burrows nearby. She nodded at the little five-year-old. “Okay, Eena, I’ll be careful.”

Instead of being grateful, the ponytailed child tilted her head and bugged out her eyes. “Hurry up, Angee!”

“Okay, okay.” The young Angelle lifted her skirt to watch for surrounding holes while carting a bucket in her other hand towards the lake.

Eena frowned at the sight. She heard Ian snicker beside her.

“I was a brat,” she admitted ruefully.

“You still are.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Ian, you’re awful."

“I know," he admitted. "But you love it."

Her cheeks flushed crimson. It was hard to deny the truth to a man who could read minds.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

Richelle E. Goodrich
“The past wasn’t something that could be changed or repaired, and so it was a place Ian refused to dwell. That wasn’t the case with Eena. She often wandered on pathways long since set in stone. That was her way. She had some need to rearrange those stones from her past every now and then, as if changing how she perceived them altered anything. He felt guilty for wishing she would turn her back on it all. To him, no matter how the past was viewed, it was still the same pile of unchangeable, regrettable stones.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

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