Scots Have Long Memories, And They're Not

He Was Dead. However, His Nose Throbbed Painfully, Which He Thought Odd In The Circumstances.

Where Did You Learn To Kiss Like That?” I Said, A Little Breathless. He Grinned And Pulled Me Close Again. “i Said I Was A Virgin, Not A Monk,” He Said, Kissing Me Again. “if I Find I Need Guidance, I’ll Ask.

Torn Between The Impulse To Stroke His Head, And The Urge To Cave It In With A Rock, I Did Neither.

"sassenach." He Had Called Me That From The First; The Gaelic Word For Outlander, A Stranger. An Englishman. First In Jest, Then In Affection.

It Was In A Way A Comforting Idea; If There Was All The Time In The World, Then The Happenings Of A Given Moment Became Less Important.