One Can't Help But Marvel At The

I Didn't Mean To Send Love Letters, But That Is What They Became. On Their Way To You, My Words Turned Into Heartbeats On The Page.

Ghost?” St. Vincent Shot Him An Incredulous Glance. “christ. You’re Not Serious, Are You?” "i’m A Gypsy,” Cam Replied Matter-of-factly. “of Course I Believe In Ghosts.” “only Half Gypsy. Which Led Me To Assume That The Rest Of You Was At Least Marginally Sane And Rational.” “the Other Half Is Irish,” Cam Said A Touch Apologetically. “christ,” St. Vincent Said Again, Shaking His Head As He Strode Away.

She Was A Beautiful Woman, If Not A Happy One, And Attracting A Man Was Never A Problem. Keeping One, However, Was A Different Matter.

Shock Is A Merciful Condition. It Allows You To Get Through Disaster With A Necessary Distance Between You And Your Feelings.

She Was Everything He'd Ever Wanted, Beauty And Fire Arching Against His Despoiling Hands.