Unfinished Tales Novels & Stories

daughter of Dolly and Daniel Hill. Yes! Married...married to a man named Race...Race...Race... Come to me... With a muffled cry, she ripped off the quilt and rumpled it in a ball...it, too, smelled like him...she felt the scent burn into her skin, scalding her with it...pain shot down her arms...the quilt flew from her arms, landing on the bed again, teasing her, telling her she couldn’t escape...There is no escape...This isn’t a dream...This is real, and this is your life now...Come here...Accept me...Accept him...

I polished the silver candle holders, straightened the heavy bedding, and wiped down his desk. As I worked, old rumors about Lord Edmund Blackwood filled my mind. At thirty-seven, he was still unmarried. People whispered that no woman could satisfy his dark, demanding appetites. That he was insatiable in the bedroom. I shook my head. Just baseless gossip. It was late when I finally finished with my chores for the day. Feeling restless, I decided to take a walk through the quiet halls to clear my head. That was when I heard it. A low, feminine moan echoed from upstairs.