It’s lucky ye’re wed to a decrepit auld man, Sassenach, or ye’d be on your knees with your arse in the air this minute.
But, like many ideas, that one was more appealing in concept than in execution
Juniper, Pennyroyal, Lady’s-vetch, … and the squat
Does it ever stop? The wanting you? Even when I've just left ye. I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.
Does it ever stop? The wanting you? His hand came around to caress my breast. Even when I’ve just left ye, I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.
You understood why people have always looked up into the sky when talking to God. You need to feel the immensity of something very much bigger than yourself, and there it is—immeasurably vast, and alw...
Still, as the Mass went on, things seemed more normal; there were Bible readings, quite familiar, and then the accustomed descent into the vaguely pleasant boredom of a sermon, in which the inevitable...
Neighborhood—his name’s pronounced ‘Kirry,’ but it’s spelt ‘C-i-r-e.’
Thought that was perhaps how some ghosts were made; where a will and a purpose had survived, heedless of the frail flesh that fell by the wayside, unable to sustain life long enough.
Into a wolf? The wary dislike stamped
In defense of King, country, and family, he would unhesitatingly have sacrificed his virtue to Nessie, had that been required. If it was a question of Olivia marrying a man with syphilis and half the...
The most irritating thing about cliches, I decided, was how frequently they were true.
Marriage is made not in ritual or in words but in the living of it.
Grey shook his head and, wheezing gently, one hand to his bruised ribs, got awkwardly to his feet and hobbled to the wing chair. You could … have helped, he said to Fraser. Ye managed brawly on your o...
He felt a moment’s passionate gratitude to her. He’d seen her look at the boy, and knew how she must feel. She’d known about the lad, of course, but seeing the flesh-and-blood proof that her husband h...
He gave you to me, she said, so low I could hardly hear her. Now I have to give you back to him, Mama.
He had been attacked once, in camp somewhere in Scotland, in the days after Culloden. Someone had come upon him in the dark, and taken him from behind with an arm across his throat. He had thought he...
He smelt strongly of woodsmoke, blood, and unwashed male, but the night chill bit through my thin dress and I was happy enough to lean back against him.
Mo nighean donn, he whispered, mo chridhe. My brown lass, my heart. Come to me. Cover me. Shelter me, a bhean, heal me. Burn with me, as I burn for you.
Now, then. What does ‘fucking’ mean?
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