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Hey, guard!” Ian hollered out loud. “Do you think we could get a bathroom break?”tThe guard seemed to snicker as he pointed to the grass outside the cell. Eena smirked at how dead-on her thoughts had been after all.t“Come on,” Ian complained. “She can’t do that, she’s a girl.”tThe soldier smiled wryly, a shrug communicating his indifference.tEena laughed in her mind.t(I don’t know what you think’s so funny. You’re the one who’s gotta pee.)tOddly enough, that fact just made her laugh even more.
Richelle E. Goodrich
That was the coolest thing ever.” Eena smiled at the fact that she’d been lucky enough to touch the wings of a real crioness. t“That was highly unusual. I can’t believe they came right up to us—to you.”t“They were hungry, I’m sure.”t“Still, crioness are cautious. They always avoid people. To let you touch him like it did…..”tShe grinned with pure satisfaction. “Wild huh? Derian’s not going to believe me when I tell him.” Eena cocked her head when Ian laughed out loud. “What?” she asked, a note of offense in her
Richelle E. Goodrich
The watchful Mishmorat commented while waiting, contemplating Eena’s bare back. “Your people are so plain and pale.”“Oh?” Eena kinked her neck to look at Niki, zeroing in on her long spotted arms. Her bronze skin was arguably more striking—speckled in beautiful patterns.“I’m sorry,” the Mishmorat quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve never seen such bare skin before. There’s nothing to look at.”Eena quickly pulled the new t-shirt down over her back. She chuckled at Niki’s comment. “I’ll admit your people are very attractive. But I’m okay with my ‘plainness.’” She glanced over her pale legs before pulling on a clean pair of pants. “You’re kinda like a clear, cloudless sky,” Niki said, cocking her head wonderingly.“And you’re like a…..a sky dotted with shapely clouds.”“Only dark clouds.”“Storm clouds.”“Yeah,” Niki grinned devilishly, “That’s me—a sky full of storm clouds.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The captain put his fingers to his temples as if he had a headache. “So, let me get this straight. Edgar, an immortal, who I assume is as unscrupulous as his sisters, tried to take that bracelet from you
Richelle E. Goodrich
They went back to scooping up breakfast, licking the mess off their fingers. Soon the pile of berry mush was gone and their tongues were dyed a nice midnight blue. Ian seemed in a good mood, sticking his tongue out playfully at his best friend. Eena did likewise, right back at him. She was happy he was smiling, even if his teeth were purple. t(You’re too much fun, Eena,) Ian announced in her mind. (I’m really glad we’re friends.)t(Me too,) she agreed. (Best friends.)tIan leaned back on his hands and watched the waves roll in from far off. The swells were building into large, flat-crested waves. (Angelle never thought like you do. You’re creative and kinda crazy. Her thoughts were always more simple and, well…..normal.) t(Yeah, well, deadly dragons and evil witches tend to suck all the normal right out of you,) she grumbled.t(I suppose.)
Richelle E. Goodrich
But you will die, Amor
Richelle E. Goodrich
Despair is not for the living but for those unable to rise and continue; they are the only souls with a right to it. It is an end where breath and strength and will have vanished, leaving no way to persevere. To sink into the abyss that is despair is to suffer an existence far worse than death; therefore, cling to its enemy, our ally—hope. For life goes on, and we must not live in despair. We must not.
Richelle E. Goodrich
You know the story.” The Nalnom rotated his hand in the air as if she should recall it.t“I don’t. I’ve never heard the story.”tJoshlon summarized it for her. “Prometheus was turned into a dragon by his angry lover, Naradite. She refused to turn him back into his manly form. He became the first fire-breathing dragon—Naga the Terrible.”tEena dropped her lower jaw. “What?”t“Naradite turned Prometheus into a dragon,” Joshlon repeated. “Naga.”t“And Prometheus is Edgar’s father?” She was sure the surrounding stares were the result of her virtually shouting out the question.tJoshlon answered with some hesitance in his voice. “I don’t know who Edgar is, but Edgarmetheus was supposedly the son of Prometheus, the illegitimate child of him and his lover, Naradi
Richelle E. Goodrich
Tell me you didn’t,” she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. “Please tell me you didn’t take advantage of these poor people.”t“I didn’t,” he chirped.t“Liar.”tWith an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. “Amora, you’re not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…”t“Temple?” she cried, cutting him off. “You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you’re God now?”tPerturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. “No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit…..god-like.”tShe rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.t“If you would let me finish,” he went on, “these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well.”t“You’re despicable.”tHe frowned at the insult. “Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so.”t“You were that impressive to them, huh?”t“Apparently.” His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”t“No way.” She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him. t“And why not?”t“Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you’ll want to show off with some shockingly grand entrance. I’m not going to take part in a game of deceit.”t“I’m not deceiving anyone,” Edgar disputed. “I can’t help it if they happen to think I’m perfectly magnificent.”tHis pompous view of himself earned a nasty look as well as a lecture. “I can’t believe you’re okay with selling people lies that affect the way they live and think! You’re not even close to being a god, Edgar, and yet you allow them to accept you as some sort of deity because of your unusual abilities. For centuries now you’ve abandoned this world and a population who probably looked to you and your lousy sisters for help. It’s all a big, disgusting sham!”tEdgar pouted like a child. “Fine—spoil all my fun. We’ll go do something else. Something that doesn’t include your poor, fragile, stupid mortals.”t“They’re not stupid.”t“They think I’m a god,” he sn
Richelle E. Goodrich
Ian was a good man—honest, trustworthy, loyal, and of honorable character. His desire to keep his promise to Angelle and to be a respectable servant of Harrowbeth would always take president over any personal feelings, no matter how intense or gratifying they might be. He would never betray Harrowbeth. He would never cheat Derian or Angelle. He would never deceive his queen, even if in so doing he would find a love and happiness they both longed to share. His commitment to what he saw as right meant more.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I hate you, Edgar. I hate you with all my heart.
Richelle E. Goodrich
She imagined him leaning against the shuttle, entertaining thoughts of scolding her for dressing like a ragged commoner. Never mind that her present outfit was light years ahead in comfort.(Actually, he’s wishing he had been less critical of you earlier. He feels bad that you won’t acknowledge his presence, and he blames himself.)(Quit it, Ian. I’m not going to feel sorry for him.)She caught her protector’s shrewd grin, highlighted by the fire’s glow. (You already do, Queenie.)(This talent of yours is really annoying.)He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “That’s not what you thought earlier when you wanted to get ahold of Efren.” “One tiny rosebud in a handful of thorns,” she retorted.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Stop tormenting Derian.”“Me?” Edgar gaped at her with a clearly fake look of innocence.“Yes, you.”“And what about you? When will you stop tormenting him?” Edgar moved past the young queen to approach the unmoving captain. He circled the man as though he were checking out a statue on display “I’m not tormenting him; why would you say that?”“You have the poor guy believing you actually intend to marry him.” Edgar stopped to fix the captain’s collar, raising it up high and stiff around his
Richelle E. Goodrich
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