I Work Late At Night. I'm Awake

You Could Tell From The Books Whether A Library Was Meant For Show Or Not. Books That Were Used Had An Open, Interested Feel To Them, Even If Closed And Neatly Lined Up On A Shelf In Strict Order With Their Fellows. You Felt As Though The Book Took As Much Interest In You As You Did In It And Was Willing To Help When You Reached For It.

There Aren't Any Answers, Only Choices

Where Did You Learn To Kiss Like That?” I Said, A Little Breathless. He Grinned And Pulled Me Close Again. “i Said I Was A Virgin, Not A Monk,” He Said, Kissing Me Again. “if I Find I Need Guidance, I’ll Ask.

I'll Scream!" "likely. If Not Before, Certainly During. I Expect They'll Hear Ye At The Next Farm; You've Got Good Lungs.

He Reached Forward Then Took Me In His Arms, Held Me Close For A Moment, The Breath Of Snow And Ashes Cold Around Us. Then He Kissed Me, Released Me, And I Took A Deep Breath Of Cold Air, Harsh With The Scent Of Burning.