The Art Of Notice
"Her lips brushed Belle’s—soft, tasting of champagne and danger—before she deepened the kiss with an authority that made Belle’s knees weak."
The TerraceKatarina leaned against the stone railing of the terrace, her silhouette cut sharply against the twilight sky. At fifty-two, she possessed a stillness that only came with time—a confidence that didn't need to shout to be heard. Her hair,...


