Nancee Holbein

“He reached for one of her fidgeting hands, grasping hold. Her eyes met his then faltered, lowered and grazed over his damaged skin. Her gaze burning nearly as deep as the wounds.”
― Lotchie Burton, Gabriel's Fire

“He assumed that Audun, who obviously knew whether or not he had murdered Holger, believed it was possible that Arvid’s nephew was guilty. There were two problems with this: first, of course, Raimund knew that the blood-soaked clothes came from the unsolved murder of a jeweller four years earlier, a crime that Arvid was guilty of. Secondly, Arvid had not seen the boy since that bloody night in 1505. Back then the boy had been ten years old; now he would be fourteen and probably more man than boy. Arvid wondered if he would recognise Raimund even if he saw him. Nonetheless, given the circumstances, he knew he had better be helpful, not least because he was somewhat scared of the huntsman.”
― Robert Reid, The Thief

“Every war casts up certain small groups among ethnic populations: minorities too cowardly to fight openly, too insignificant to play any independent political part, but despicable enough to act as paid executioners to one of the fighting powers. In this war those people were the Ukrainian and Lithuanian Fascists.”
― Władysław Szpilman, The Pianist: The Extraordinary Story of One Man's Survival in Warsaw, 1939-45

“There was nothing ordinary about Ossie May. She was tall, sexy, smart, and pretty. Her looks and personality were her drawing cards. The flip side was her temperament. She was beauty and rage sandwiched together, and she must have invented cussing. She would unload swear word after swear word in rapid succession. There had to be a law against such offensive language.”
― Harold Phifer, Surviving Chaos: How I Found Peace at A Beach Bar