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GOOD FOR YOU SANCIA

"I told you we can make it safe!" insisted Orso. "Probably!"

Hahhaha

Hmmm so is Gregor a soon-to-have-a-meltdown psycho...?

THIS BATTLE SCENE IS INCREDIBLE

The sadness in her dark eyes was unbearable. Her friends gaze cut to a building whose chimney puffed out putrid black smoke. "They're killing us to cover what they've done."

"Henri? Paul?... Gaetan?"

"They were all arrested, Juliette. Henry was hanged in the Town Square. The rest..." She shrugged.

:(

He kissed her. When he drew back, his lips remained against hers. "I love you, Vianne."

She closed her eyes and returned his kiss, waiting for her body to come alive at his touch, but when she slid beneath him and felt their bodies come together as they done so many times before, she felt nothing at all.

"I love you, too, Antoine." She tried not to cry as she said it.

He came up behind her. She felt his strong sure hands on her shoulders, hearing him breathing behind her. She longed to lean back, rest her body against his with the familiarity that came from years together, but she couldn't. His hands caressed her shoulders, ran down her arms, and then settled on her hips. He gently turned her to face him.

;_;

He turned to her. The newest of bruise on his cheek made him smile.

"Von Richter!" someone in the entourage yelled. "Leave your French whore behind."

"That is what you were, you know," he said.

She pressed her lips together to keep from speaking.

"I'll forget you." He leaned forward. "I wonder I'd you can say the same."

HELL NAW

A dead body hung from every street lamp in the town square.

She moved the only thing she could--her head--and it thunked against something hard. She was naked, tied to a chair inside of a...

Frozen. Dark. Humming. Small...

A refrigerator.

Holy crap

KILLLL HIMMMMM WITH FIREEEE

His gaze moved down her throat to the pale skin above her breasts. "I need a new place to billet. The Hotel Bellevue is unsatisfactory. I believe your house will do nicely."

Better watch yourself, boi

"And you should know about that. Aren't you the one who couldn't bother to be her sister when she needed one?"

"If you try to take her away from me, I'll kill you."

"You'll kill me," he said, smiling.

She cocked her head towards Beck. "I killed him with a shovel, and I liked him."

Vianne looked desperately for a weapon, saw a shovel leaning against the wall.

He lifted the hatch and yelled something. As the door banged open, he stood up, taking aim. Vianne grabbed the shovel and swung it at him with all of her strength. The metal scoop made a sickening thunk as it hit him in the back of the head and sliced deeply into his skull.

Beck staggered sideways and turned. "Madame," he said.

AHHH

Oh my God

"We can't," she said.

"Of course not."

But when he looked at her--and she looked at him--they both knew that there was something worse than kissing the wrong person.

It was wanting to.

Y'ALL BETTER WATCH OUT

He moved closer. "I want to protect you," he said.

He touched her upper arm, almost a caress, and she felt it in every part of her body, like an electrical charge. Unable to help herself, she looked at him.

He was close to her, just a kiss away. All she had to do was give him the slightest encouragement--a breath, a nod, a touch--and he would close the gap between them.

ASDFGJKL;

She hadn't the strength to fabricate a lie, and what was the good of one anyway?

There was no way to protect her daughter from all the evil around them.

No way.

Rachel stood in the black, yawning entrance of a cattle car, her face and hands still smeared with her daughter's blood. She scanned the crowd, saw Vianne, and raised her bloody hand in the air, and then she was gone, shoved back by the women stumbling in around her. The door to the cattle car clanged shut.

"Don't give me that look," Rachel said. "We will be together again in no time, drinking champagne and dancing to that jazz music you love."

Vienna wipe the tears from her eyes. "You know I won't be seen with you in public when you start dancing."

She started to reach for Rachel, but her friend backed away. "If I hug you I'll start crying and I can't cry."

Vianne's arms drop heavily to her side.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. "Here. This will help, I believe."

This was a favor, pure and simple, and there would be a price for it.

"Take it," he said gently.

She took the bottle from him. For a second, they were both holding it. She felt his fingers against hers.

Their gazes locked, and something passed between them, a question was asked and answered.

OH SHOOT

"I don't know how to be alone."

"What do you mean? We were on our own for years. From the moment Maman died."

"You were alone." She said. "I never was. I met Antoine when I was 14 and got pregnant 16 and married him when I was barely 17. Papa gave me this house to get rid of me. So, you see, I've never been on my own. That's why you're so strong and I am not."

Much sad, very no thank you

She stood there, contemplating something she had studiously avoided thinking: about a life without him. She started to shiver, her teeth chattered.

"Come inside for coffee," Isabelle said.

Into the house? Their house? His ghost would be everywhere in there--a dent in the divan where he sat to read, the hook that held his coat. And the bed.

There were no tears in her. This news had emptied her.

Wowwww this writing

"The soldiers billeted with Claire Moreau look like sausages with legs. I hear they drink enough wine to kill a judge and snore like rooting hogs. You're lucky, I guess."

"You're the lucky one, Rachel. No one has moved into your house."

"Poverty has its reward at last."

"You have beautiful hair, M'mselle." At Isabelle's frown, he said, "This is an appropriate compliment, yes?"

"Do you think so?" Isabelle said, her voice low.

Isabelle walked to the kitchen and came back with a pair of boning shears.

His smile faded. "Am I misunderstood?"

Staring Grimly at Captain Beck's handsome face, she hacked off her hair and handed the long blond tail to him.

DAMN, GIRL.

I absolutely love the feel of the book so far. The words flow together so well that I have powered through it without much time at all. It's kinda angsty. Me likey

He had the longest, stringy black hair that looked unfamiliar with a comb or soap and clothes so tattered and patched she was reminded of the war refugees who would so recently shuffled through Paris, hoarding cigarettes and Bits of Paper and empty bottles, begging for change or help.

"I hope you are a gentleman," she said from her place in the darkness.

He laughed. "I'm sure you do."

So... Disturbing...