Tag: historical-romance, ptsd

There were times when he felt as if he were being literally torn in two. Times when he raged at the injustice of what was happening to him, times when he was overwhelmed with guilt. There was no right and wrong anymore, which had been one of clear-cut lines for so long, was now so blurred that he was careening around like a compass struggling to find true north.

…People – the ones who are left behind – desire answers. Even when we are advised from beyond the grave not to pursue them.

The soldier in the portrait had been a respected and admired officer…The man he had become was fighting a different battle now. He had his demons, just as she had her ghosts.

Celeste committed the cardinal sin of leaning across Jack’s arm. “You will excuse me, Madam, but I have something most particular to say to Monsieur Trestain.””That was rude,” jack said, though he was smiling.”No doubt you thought her very beautiful.””No doubt that is what you think I thought.

But the pain, the tearing blackness, the white heat of his uncontrollable fury, the terror that made him run from himself, the sweats and the shakes, and the dull ache in his head, they were all too real. ~~~~She kissed him to stop the words babbling out. She was in love. “Jack,” she said, because it was all she could trust herself to say. “Jack.” She loved him. She kissed his eyelids. She loved him.