Ransom has a comfortable life as a secluded hermit-as fairy tale Beasts often do, and the last thing he wants is a woman invading HIS personal space. Now, his ancestral home has been handed over to a chit of a girl, and damned if Ransom's going to hand it over on a silver platter. The castle has been in his family for generations, and due to a misunderstanding, it has been sold.
The castle in question is his, and Ransom, half-monster and 100% man-is naturally, not that eager to hand it over to her. This man silhouetted before her? He belonged, quite solidly, in the latter category. And then there were things that were beautiful for their wild power and their refusal to be tamed. There were things in nature that took their beauty from delicate structure and intricate symmetry. And that castle comes with its own beast. It probably needs an exorcism, more than anything. But it's not an enchanted castle, by any means. That bequest, as befitting a fairy-tale girl, is a castle.
Her late godfather has left her a bequest. What fairy tales were left over for a plain, impoverished, twenty-six-year-old woman who’d never even been kissed?Right now, Izzy's entire existence hinges on a letter, a letter that arrived, promising her survival. Izzy is no longer a girl with stars in her eyes. And for as long as she could remember, Izzy had been waiting-with dwindling faith and increasing impatience-for that part of her life to begin.Instead of a charmed life, Izzy is now a spinster. Life-and romance, has always passed her by. And at 26, her life is as far removed from enchantment as you can imagine. No Prince Charming has ever shown up for her. Izzy is not ugly, but neither is she a beauty. The Summary: With a name like Isolde Ophelia Goodnight and a father who wrote a series of children's stories, you would expect Izzy's life to be a fairy tale.
This book has left me a silly, sappy fool, and I can't say I regret it. Yes, I realize that the cursing is completely uncalled for!! Let me curse!! I need an element of foulness in order to retain the vestiges of my usual anger and bitterness. It makes me want to believe in starlit kisses, in moonlit romance. It left me with a goofy grin and eyes misted over with stupid unshed tears. and Khanh's heart grew three sizes that day.
0 kommentar(er)
