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7 pages, Audiobook
First published June 2, 2013




















“I'd never do away with you using a poisoned shirt," she reassured me. "It would be pistols at dawn or nothing.”
“I think I will remain here and work on my manuscript,” Christine decided. “Going about talking to the locals sounds dreadfully boring. But if you find you need anyone shot, send word and I'll come at once.”

“My dearest Pudding pie" [ Whyborne ] read aloud.
"Yes, my little turnip?"
"Hilarious," [ Whyborne ] muttered. "If you [ Griffin ] ever call me anything of the sort again we shall have words.”
“I cannot conform to society's expectations, and yet, it seems, I cannot conform to the expectations of 'men like us', either. I am called naïve, and coddled, and...and other things.”
“I love watching you in public, so restrained and proper, so seemingly untouchable. All the while knowing I'll have you in my bed later, whriting beneath me and begging for more.”
# BR with Sofia, Heather and of course my dear W&G series BR-bestie Bev. ~ Thanks Ladies! Our BR chatThe heights blocked the prevailing west-east breezes, leaving the air stagnant and still. Mosquitoes hummed above pools of water in the unpaved streets, and sweat prickled my neck beneath my collar. I longed for a bit of shade, but the lack of trees anywhere within the town made it a forlorn hope.
“Believe me when I say I did a great deal more with other men, some of whom, yes, were married. It’s not unusual, you know. Many men like us have a normal family as well.”
The fingers of his free hand caught my chin, gently turning my face to his. His green eyes shone, and the smile on his mouth was soft and sweet. “You are my joy, Ival, and I love you more than I thought possible.”
Emotion tightened my throat. “As you are mine.”
“Even if I’m just the son of a farmer from Kansas, who happened to have a talent for mimicking his betters?”
I traced the line of his jaw, until my fingers came to rest just beside the curve of his lips. “You’re not just the son of a farmer from Kansas, or even the orphaned son of an Irishman, or anything else.”
“I’m not? Then who am I?”
“A good man. A man who wants to do what is best, by his friends and the world. But more importantly, the man I love.” His smile was like the breaking of sunshine through clouds. “I think I can live with that,” he said, and kissed me again.
. If you've seen my review of
then you'll know I absolutely loved it and having just finished this, I'm now even more enamoured.

“My dearest pudding pie,” I read aloud.
“Yes, my little turnip?”
“Hilarious,” I muttered. “If you ever call me anything of the sort again, we shall have words.
"If we cannot find models in our past, we must try to build a future where they can exist, and devil take anyone who tries to tell us we can’t."