She saw shapes, movements, heard the words and cries and whispered threats, and these she linked to her spirit companion, the young shaman who lay in ... wake-sleep state on his sleeping bag in the dark hayloft of the homestead barn.The girl was young, too young, barely nine years old. The priest, her family priest for all those years and more, was holding her against his bulging belly, his fat hands fondling her thin legs under her summer dress. She sat pinned on his lap, facing him, feeling his. And besides, I think you're getting better. Probably any day now you'll be as good as new. It's just nerves, baby, just nerves."Jerry Marlowe seemed to be gaping down over the paunch of his round belly in utter contempt, glaring at the treasured constituent of his anatomy that had betrayed him. "I hope you're right, Kate; boy, do I hope so... it's pretty awful sometimes, let me tell you." Undress me, lover, and don't talk about it," the tall statuesque redhead said huskily.Marlowe's thick. More

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