Rose always kept it in a braid that rested on her shoulder. A great deal of the kids she knew and grew up had been sold to pay off a few debts for peo...le you didn't want to owe money to. Rose had been sold to a Russian man; By the name of Vladislav Mikhailov. He was quite terrifying, thirty one, around 6'2, and had eyes that shot daggers even when he was in a good mood. They were a deep ocean blue, as Rose always noticed. They were so dark, they could easily pass as a dark brown. He always had. Life is a lot easier now than it was in the early 1900s."She laughed. "Instead of Brent I should call you Bent. You have the weirdest thoughts, little brother." How's your writing coming along?" Okay." She twisted her pretty face into a grimace. "That's a lie. Writing is hard, really frustrating. Sometimes I just want to give up." I read a novel last week, one I checked out of the library. Terry recommended the author to me. James Lee Burke. Have you read any of his novels?" No." Check him out.. More

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