By Amy Tolnitch
Via touching a magic crystal, Piers Veuxfort recklessly unchained the essence of a decidedly depraved Fin guy who now is living inside of his physique. in the meantime, Giselle St. Germain’s existence in a secluded nunnery is over and he or she has been thrown into the realm to turn into Piers’ bride. Giselle quickly becomes frightened via either her betrothed’s unabashed adherence to excitement and his more and more strange character, and Piers wishes not anything yet to ship again his bride-to-be. finally the pair discovers that future is theirs to win, however it will take all of the braveness that lies inside of their inner most hearts to grab it jointly.
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Extra resources for A Lost Touch of Innocence
Some days, she could barely remember her mother, just a vague picture of pale hair and a warm, loving smile. She knew she should not allow herself to enjoy the bath or the kneading of Nona’s ﬁngers against her scalp, but it was impossible. Nona handed her a cake of soap and a small cloth. Giselle sniﬀed and smelled the scent of lavender. “Lavender is Lady Amice’s favorite scent. ” I must be dreaming, Giselle thought. A dream ﬁlled with luxury she had never envisioned. The soap was soft in her hand, the water warm and soothing, and her hair felt cleaner than it had ever been.
Nay. ” “You must have carried the letter with you when you came to the abbey,” he said, suspicions swirling in his mind. “Letter? Mayhap. I . . I remember the Abbess looking at what I had brought with me. She must have taken it. ” She looked up then and he saw a trace of deﬁance in her gaze. ” Uncertainty shadowed her face. ” Piers leaned against the doorway, surprised at her answer. ” Giselle looked away again. ” Piers frowned. Who was this girl? ” She shrugged. “I do not remember, my lord. I was so young.
But, no, he thought. She posed no threat to him. He’d seen to it she knew nothing of her true background. And now, settled into the isolated north, she never would. 47 III A fter a restless night ﬁlled with alarming dreams of Piers Veuxfort, Giselle rose early. She splashed water on her face, and drew on the gown she had worn the evening before. Even as she told herself to hasten to the chapel, she pulled back the wooden shutters to look at the sea. The sky was just beginning to lighten, casting gold onto the smooth surface of the water.