Hips tended to be the bane of Shari’s existence as she tried diet after diet to get rid of them. You are the High Priestess of Life. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm.
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