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Summary
She was born in a storm. She grew in the midst of a dance under construction. She saw the sides and was torn between blood and duty to both parties. They pulled at her, tried to nurture her to their causes, tried to lure her to different beds. Little did they know or expect,
“To say she is only a woman is to say a violin is a piece of wood with strings, and history is mere ink printed on paper.”
― Bruce Crown, Forlorn PassionsSeries
- Part 1 of Ink Yet Dry & Tales Hauntingly Repeated
