Black Grotto Quotes

“Skye,”
― Bob Stegner, Black Grotto: Book II of the Alban Saga

“A9, the road that Bea was traveling this early morning after leaving the Isle of Skye, was part of Scotland’s answer to Route 66. It was also a driver’s sort of road as it wound its way along the north coast of the highlands above Inverness, and this time of year was the perfect jot in time to be on it. It was early enough in the day for the sun’s rays to still break across the landscape, highlighting every tree, shrub, mountain, loch, or beach in the crisp and clear Kodachrome of late autumn, and it was also just late enough in the season for the road to be safely navigated at speeds just a bit above normal. Her car was running great, and her tunes were vibrating the sideboard speakers with rhythm and base and melody. Using her gears, she took the corners and adjusted to the rise and fall of the road in a syncopated rhythm that made she and her car one. With her left hand on the gearshift, her right grasping the steering wheel, and her eyes shifting from road to scenery and back again, she felt the exhilaration of being on her first road trip alone and free.”
― Bob Stegner, Black Grotto: Book II of the Alban Saga

“A9, the road that Bea was traveling this early morning after leaving the Isle of Skye, was part of Scotland’s answer to Route 66. It was also a driver’s sort of road as it wound its way along the north coast of the highlands above Inverness, and this time of year was the perfect jot in time to be on it. It was early enough in the day for the sun’s rays to still break across the landscape, highlighting every tree, shrub, mountain, loch, or beach in the crisp and clear Kodachrome of late autumn, and it was also just late enough in the season for the road to be safely navigated at speeds just a bit above normal”
― Bob Stegner, Black Grotto: Book II of the Alban Saga

“Having awakened before daylight from an unsettled sleep and a long night of hellish dreams, Brenna stood next to the open window in a milky-white cotton shift that her acolyte, Abbey Creag, had given her. The fabric was loose and soft as it ebbed and flowed across her body in the early-morning autumn breeze. Sweat still glistened on her sallow brow, but her heart had slowed along with her breathing - the nightmarish visions fading with each passing moment.”
― Bob Stegner, Black Grotto: Book II of the Alban Saga