Skip to content
Under the Tuscan Sun
Category: Romance
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.