This is a story about a promise made between two friends, who were separated when they were children. 10 years later, they meet again on Broadway Street in New York. Will they reconnect, or will they fail to do so?
I was no angel.
I wasn’t that innocent girl who stood in the back wondering why he wouldn’t choose me. Why he couldn’t see that we were truly meant for each other.
Nope. I deserved every ounce of his loathing.
I was like a vine – fascinating, elegant, enticing. I’d succeeded in masterfully climbing the broken walls of my life and covering the empty decay with a disguise of brilliant art. But, like a vine, I was also hungry, dangerous, and deadly. I could squeeze the joy ou. . .
I was no angel.
I wasn’t that innocent girl who stood in the back wondering why he wouldn’t choose me. Why he couldn’t see that we were truly meant for each other.
Nope. I deserved every ounce of his loathing.
I was like a vine – fascinating, elegant, enticing. I’d succeeded in masterfully climbing the broken walls of my life and covering the empty decay with a disguise of brilliant art. But, like a vine, I was also hungry, dangerous, and deadly. I could squeeze the joy ou. . .
The Mediterranean sun warmed Christiana’s tanned skin as she swung open the window of her suite. It wasn’t hard to see why this area had such wonderful vineyards, great wines, and a steady stream of visitors. Chris was relaxed in her homeland far away from the reality of her life and Robert. She was hoping a short break and a lot of wine would help her identify the feelings she was having about him. Christiana Amalfi raised her long arms over her head as she stretched out the night’s sleep. St. . .
The Mediterranean sun warmed Christiana’s tanned skin as she swung open the window of her suite. It wasn’t hard to see why this area had such wonderful vineyards, great wines, and a steady stream of visitors. Chris was relaxed in her homeland far away from the reality of her life and Robert. She was hoping a short break and a lot of wine would help her identify the feelings she was having about him. Christiana Amalfi raised her long arms over her head as she stretched out the night’s sleep. St. . .