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This book is hot. A trashy, sleazy, *full-length* (100+ Pages) post-censorship erotic novel. But, if you really want, here's the briefest of excerpts:
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Clare was happy at Montrilas. She loved the siblings. She loved Lord Godfrey who they called father. He had adopted them before the death of his wife. He adored them as his own. She sensed his moods, almost as a wife will know the temper of her husband. For a week she had felt his disquiet: On the eighth day she rode with him on a strange errand.
"Tis foolish talk of witches," he growled, irritated. "There are no witches. Just tales to frighten children. A sad day for my brother that his nieces stand accused." He pursed his lips in thought. "I'll be bound it's no more than the King's man with his infernal warrant-that bitter misanthrope Rearden! He's scoured the whole land for his prey. A week since, the Devil take him! He seeks a shortcut through a few trees and sees your cousins at some game they play. A game he says links them with Lucifer. Now the marshal has them in his keep. I pray we may reach them in time to be of help."
Clare's heart was ice. Three girls and a game in a woodland glade! She knew well what their game might be! There, but for the grace of God... ! It was too cruel.
Because Lord Godfrey was who he was Clare was allowed to visit. The jailer pocketed his coin and locked her in. He would return in an hour.
So winsome they had been. So full of joy. How bitter to see them thus! It was as though they had been consigned to some nether world where no sun shone. They cried out in gladness as the door slammed behind her. But there were no welcoming arms, no hungry lips. All three of them were chained, chained deviously and cruelly. Clare kissed and held each of them a long time. She wept.
"The devil in me must be made to tire. So I stand thus." Lise raised her chained hands to the collar at her neck. A metal collar joined by but a foot of chain to the ring in the wall so that she must stand, and stand... without rest.
"My devil gets the same attention," Sula sighed miserably. She could not move her hands, for they were parted wide and chained to the wall above her head. She drooped wearily.
Chloe shrugged without comment. But smiled wanly. She stood in the center of the chamber, one wrist shackled above her head by a chain from the ceiling. She, too, would find no comfort.
Clare was shocked. "Your clothes...?"
"We were stripped and given these bits of sacking."
******************
Clare was happy at Montrilas. She loved the siblings. She loved Lord Godfrey who they called father. He had adopted them before the death of his wife. He adored them as his own. She sensed his moods, almost as a wife will know the temper of her husband. For a week she had felt his disquiet: On the eighth day she rode with him on a strange errand.
"Tis foolish talk of witches," he growled, irritated. "There are no witches. Just tales to frighten children. A sad day for my brother that his nieces stand accused." He pursed his lips in thought. "I'll be bound it's no more than the King's man with his infernal warrant-that bitter misanthrope Rearden! He's scoured the whole land for his prey. A week since, the Devil take him! He seeks a shortcut through a few trees and sees your cousins at some game they play. A game he says links them with Lucifer. Now the marshal has them in his keep. I pray we may reach them in time to be of help."
Clare's heart was ice. Three girls and a game in a woodland glade! She knew well what their game might be! There, but for the grace of God... ! It was too cruel.
Because Lord Godfrey was who he was Clare was allowed to visit. The jailer pocketed his coin and locked her in. He would return in an hour.
So winsome they had been. So full of joy. How bitter to see them thus! It was as though they had been consigned to some nether world where no sun shone. They cried out in gladness as the door slammed behind her. But there were no welcoming arms, no hungry lips. All three of them were chained, chained deviously and cruelly. Clare kissed and held each of them a long time. She wept.
"The devil in me must be made to tire. So I stand thus." Lise raised her chained hands to the collar at her neck. A metal collar joined by but a foot of chain to the ring in the wall so that she must stand, and stand... without rest.
"My devil gets the same attention," Sula sighed miserably. She could not move her hands, for they were parted wide and chained to the wall above her head. She drooped wearily.
Chloe shrugged without comment. But smiled wanly. She stood in the center of the chamber, one wrist shackled above her head by a chain from the ceiling. She, too, would find no comfort.
Clare was shocked. "Your clothes...?"
"We were stripped and given these bits of sacking."