Beulah considered the spell that had been the work of the last decade.
She considered young woman now leaving the property a young woman who attended the property – an 85 year old Widow. Valise in hand, she was headed off to a new life, away from whispers of what she’d done when she was twenty (the story originally had been what they did when they were twenty, but as more and more of the children of the original miscreants told the story, rather than the people who had been there, they didn’t wish to impugn their own parents, and so one by one the party shrank until it was only the woman leaving now and Beulah – and nobody made whispers like that about Beulah where she might be some day hear them); she left behind two dead husbands, three dead children, eight grandchildrens and at least four great-grandchildren, one of whom was Beulah’s great-grand-niece. Continue reading
There were times when she regretted that the Mara could not shift their sex the way the Daeva could, and this was one of them.
The colonies were still wild, of course; that was why she had come. She was craving a challenge. She was craving a frontier.
She kept running into men who wanted to put her in a house. Put her in a house and put her in her place. And that – that was not what she wanted, not a house-man with house-soft hands, not a house-life with curtains and furniture. She wanted a frontier. Continue reading