The battle was over; the king lay dying.

Daymonde hovered in the shadows of the pavilion's inner chamber as the physician examined King Glenmarr of Nyland, then shook his head. They dared not even remove the arrows from the king's body, for fear of hastening his death. Naught remained now but to make the king comfortable.

Heads bowed, the physician and his assistant slipped out, leaving Daymonde, the king's champion, alone with his beloved monarch.

"My son. . ." Glenmarr's gasping whisper broke the silence inside the tent. "Daymonde, where are you?"

"Here, m'lord." Daymonde knelt beside the pallet. (Read More)

I close my eyes and relax under the sun’s rays warming my sunscreen-slathered skin. Waves roll up the beach with a whoosh. Children’s happy cries tickle my ears whilst the scent of coconut soothes my weary soul.

“Another drink, Madam?” Speaking of coconuts. I open one eye and smile at the young man. Lovely. I mean, another fruity drink would be lovely.

“Ah. Yes, please.” I push myself up in the lounge chair and avert my eyes as the young man saunters away with my empty glass. Looking that good should be outlawed. Probably is.

Okay, back to reading. As I pick up my book, Dreamer, a new release from one of my favorite women’s fiction authors, the melodious theme song from The Notebook flows from my cell phone.

I check the caller ID to see who it is I’m about to yell at, and press the green button. Where would we be without color codes? “Am I making money yet?” (Read More)