Draycott Eternal
What Dreams May Come\Season Of Wishes
LondonThe roses were glorious.
Heavy-petaled, crimson peach and palest blush-pink, they glowed through the florist's window. Even through the glass Gray Mackenzie could almost smell their lush perfume.
Around her the honking horns and squealing brakes of Oxford Street faded away to nothing. As if in a dream, she watched herself turn and push open the door to the neat little florist shop.
She would buy a dozen of them.
For herself. Just because she wanted to.
It was a gesture totally unlike her, of course. Lingering jet lag, perhaps?
Gray worried her lower lip. She'd arrived only last night after a hellish flight from Philadelphia, and this morning her pale cheeks showed the strain.
"Yes, miss. 'Ow can I 'elp you?" The proprietor was short, red-cheeked and impatient to get on with hi ... read full excerpt from Draycott Eternal ebook
