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Katharine Ashe

I Loved a Rogue

  • Monique V. Wykhar citeretfor 6 år siden
    ’d had it wrong for years. Giving himself to her was not to fall into an abyss. It was to surmount the stars.
  • Monique V. Wykhar citeretfor 6 år siden
    You are a wild bird, caged too long and desperate to be free
  • Monique V. Wykhar citeretfor 6 år siden
    taut softness of his flesh a sudden revelation. He was so strong and beautiful and free and perfect, and he made her want to be beautiful and free and wild too
  • Monique V. Wykhar citeretfor 6 år siden
    None of them knew that she was precisely the opposite—not the helpless sleeping maiden waiting for a prince to wake her. Rather, she was the maiden dragon sleeping beneath the mountain, roused now and finally ready to spring into the sky spewing flame and roaring.
  • Monique V. Wykhar citeretfor 6 år siden
    She wanted to sing. Not as she sang on Sundays in church, but as loud as the lark that woke her each morning through her bedchamber window with its abandoned song.

    She wanted to dance. Not decorously like she had danced at her sisters’ weddings attended by ladies and lords, but freely, wildly, gloriously, like the Gypsies who camped each winter in St. Petroc danced at the May Day festival.

    She wanted to tear off her bonnet and feel the dangerous joy of wind in her hair and blazing sunshine upon her face while she galloped her horse along the edge of the cliffs. To suck the cold, salty air into her nostrils and fill her hungry lungs.

    Quite simply, she wanted an adventure
  • Monique V. Wykhar citeretfor 6 år siden
    She wanted to sing. Not as she sang on Sundays in church, but as loud as the lark that woke her each morning through her bedchamber window with its abandoned song.

    She wanted to dance. Not decorously like she had danced at her sisters’ weddings attended by ladies and lords, but freely, wildly, gloriously, like the Gypsies who camped each winter in St. Petroc danced at the May Day festival.

    She wanted to tear off her bonnet and feel the dangerous joy of wind in her hair and blazing sunshine upon her face while she galloped her horse along the edge of the cliffs. To suck the cold, salty air into her nostrils and fill her hungry lungs.
  • Shivali Malhotrahar citeretfor 7 år siden
    Her lips were pliant and welcoming, her hands moving to clutch his shoulders. She accepted him. He kissed her and knew he would never have enough of her, never enough of the flavor of her lips or the texture of her passion.
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