Abby and her Dom, Dmitry, have a standing agreement that on Tuesdays, Abby is his kitten. There are certain rules Abby isn't to break: she is only allowed to crawl, she must eat from pet dishes, and on no account is she to get on the furniture—on pain of a good caning!
Of course, kittens aren't very good at following rules...
The torches flared pink, orange, green, teal, blue. Colours maddened by rogue alchemists and their powders. The sand churned under countless feet. […]
I could smell her body from across the raging waters: her fearful heart pumping rich sweet blood; the bitter odour of a […]
Outside on the cliffs, the avalanche had buried the besieging army. Inside the castle, the hero let the snow-maidens strip him […]
They hung her from the cliff-yawning walls, in a metal cage. If she had been a prisoner of war, they would have […]
