Bella Bryce's latest blog posts
Sticks and stones. That was a bunch of bullocks. Sticks and stones weren’t the culprits of breaking bones and words did actually bloody hurt. Whoever made up that nursery rhyme was trying to convince themselves of something ridiculous. At night when people lay down and waited for their eyes to adjust to the darkness, as they stared at the ceiling or the furniture that looked like hooded figures, words broke hearts first. They settled under the skin and slowly seeped into the parts of a person’s being that were unseen. Soon, they reached the blood stream and flowed throughout the entire body, becoming part of that person. Over time, the words were like a disease that made bones frail, until eventually, they broke.
In Evelyn’s case, every night for the the last decade and then some, had ended like that for her. She would be lying on her side, staring at the druid-like giants that were the drapes covering the ceiling-high windows, and wish someone would hold her and dispel the words that had been spoken over her. In the morning, she would forget about it and return to the ladies luncheon the following week. Week, after week, after week. For years.
Yes, really, that is all you're getting for tonight. I wanted to share a snippet as my readers are so patiently waiting (and emailing and messaging :) ) me about book V. I wanted to put up a snippet that didn't contain lots of dialogue. I know we can all relate to this.
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