Emily Shore

“Oh, her eyes register horror. She knows she’s kneeling in the wake of true power and supremacy. But she’s responding more like prey caught in the eye of the perfect predator—prey who wants to be caught, prey who invites me to claim her. Not a weak invitation. No, this is a gold envelope signed with engraved lettering, sealed with scarlet wax and a pretty stamp, and delivered on a gods-damned silver platter!”
― Emily Shore

“I remember those Mountains and their untamed beauty—a wildness that still speaks to me—something eternal, steadfast, and transcendent. Their ridges and valleys carve deeply into my memory. They still rise like ancient giants, their slopes painted in shades of crimson, amber, and gold in the fall. Even now, I envision the ever-present fog rolling across the dark forested peaks. Or the way the sun would splinter in prisms to illuminate the endless sea of trees that stretched far beyond the city where I once lived.”
― Emily Shore, Hunted by the Headless Horseman