“FROM A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE by Victoria Vane:His gaze glued to the bed, Ned made a mechanical backward retreat to the center of the room where he had a clearer prospect of its crowning glory. His vision rose to the top of the headboard, to the heraldic shield seated betwixt the carved figures of a lion and a unicorn. His gaze slid with dread to the engraved scroll beneath. Dieu Et Mon Driot. God and my right, the motto of the king. His chest seized. The room began to spin. He looked to Phoebe, aware that the blood was draining from his face, and that his voice emerged as a strangled sound. "May the same God save me...for I'm going to be hung, drawn, and quartered for spending last night rutting in the King of England's bed!" coming April 27, 2012 from Breathless Press”

“Hannah." He looks at me, the same way he looked at me last night in the diner, with longing and sadness, and it's like everything I'm feeling I can see in his eyes. I want to kiss him so bad it hurts, but I know I can't. So instead, I tear my gaze from his and look down at the ground.”

“I was with her when she died,” Ned reminded the king. “She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father.” He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister’s eyes. Ned remembered the way she smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his.”

“He was not wearing the woollen cap. His newly minted hair was uncovered, and he looked as fresh as he had emerging from the baths the night before, as he had waking beneath Damen's hands. But he had resumed the cool restraint, his jacket laced, his expression disagreeable from the haughty profile to the intolerant blue eyes. 'You're alive,' Damen said, and the words came out on a rush of relief that made him feel weak. 'I'm alive,' said Laurent. They were gazing at one another. 'I wasn't sure you'd come back.' 'I came back,' said Damen.”

“At first, man was enslaved by the gods. But he broke their chains. Then he was enslaved by the kings. But he broke their chains. He was enslaved by his birth, by his kin, by his race. But he broke their chains. He declared to all his brothers that a man has rights which neither god nor king nor other men can take away from him, no matter what their number, for his is the right of man, and there is no right on earth above this right. And he stood on the threshold of freedom for which the blood of the centuries behind him had been spilled.”

“I ripped the pages out of the book.I reversed the order, so the last one was first, and the first was last.When I flipped through them, it looked like the man was floating up through the sky.And if I'd had more pictures, he would've flown through a window, back into the building, and the smoke would've poured into the hole that the plane was about to come out of.Dad would've left his messages backward, until the machine was empty, and the plane would've flown backward away from him, all the way to Boston.He would've taken the elevator to the street and pressed the button for the top floor.He would've walked backward to the subway, and the subway would've gone backward through the tunnel, back to our stop.Dad would've gone backward through the turnstile, then swiped his Metrocard backward, then walked home backward as he read the New York Times from right to left.He would've spit coffee into his mug, unbrushed his teeth, and put hair on his face with a razor.He would've gotten back into bed, the alarm would've rung backward, he would've dreamt backward.Then he would've gotten up again at the end of the night before the worst day.He would've walked backward to my room, whistling 'I Am the Walrus' backward.He would've gotten into bed with me.We would've looked at the stars on my ceiling, which would've pulled back their light from our eyes.I'd have said 'Nothing' backward.He'd have said 'Yeah, buddy?' backward.I'd have said 'Dad?' backward, which would have sounded the same as 'Dad' forward.He would have told me the story of the Sixth Borough, from the voice in the can at the endto the beginning, from 'I love you' to 'Once upon a time.'We would have been safe.”