There Aren't Any Answers, Only Choices

Ye Werena The First Lass I Kissed," He Said Softly. "but I Swear You'll Be The Last.

Bedding Her Could Be Anything From Tenderness To Riot, But To Take Her When She Was A Bit The Worse For Drink Was Always A Particular Delight. Intoxicated, She Took Less Care For Him Than Usual; Abandoned And Oblivious To All But Her Own Pleasure, She Would Rake Him, Bite Him - And Beg Him To Serve Her So, As Well. He Loved The Feeling Of Power In It, The Tantalizing Choice Between Joining Her At Once In Animal Lust, Or Of Holding Himself-for A Time- In Check, So As To Drive Her At His Whim.

I Have No Objection To Well-written Romance, But I'd Read Enough Of It To Know That That's Not What I Had Written. I Also Knew That If It Was Sold As Romance I'd Never Be Reviewed By The 'new York Times' Or Any Other Literarily Respectable Newspaper - Which Is Basically True, Although The 'washington Post' Did Get Round To Me Eventually.

While Ye Sleep In My Arms, I Can Say Things To Ye That Would Be Daft And Silly Waking, And Your Dreams Will Know The Truth Of Them.

I Wouldna Cross The Road To See A Scrawny Woman If She Was Stark Naked And Dripping Wet. ~jamie Fraser