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Rejik.” She put all of her seduction into her voice. “But move a little harder now, I want this to be a night we both remember.”
    His laughter and the full shudder as her voice stroked his nerves from the inside out warmed her. Her lover, her life, her future was here in his arms.
    Hours later, she woke covered in cold sweat. She turned to him and asked him desperately, “What is my name?”
    He stroked her spine and murmured, “Bronwyn, my love, my heart,” until it was written on her soul and then she returned to sleep secure in the knowledge that he would always know her name…even when she didn’t.
    She would never have to doubt that she had a name and that she had a man and that both were hers until she died.

    About the Author
    Viola Grace was born in Manitoba, Canada where she still resides today. She really likes it there. She has no pets and can barely keep sea monkeys alive for a reasonable amount of time. Her line of day job tends to be analytical which leaves her mind hopping to weave stories. No co-worker is safe from her character analysis. In keeping with busy hands are happy hands, her hobbies have included cross-stitch, needlepoint, quilting, costuming, cake decorating, baking, cooking, metal work, beading, sculpting, painting, doll making, henna tattoos, chain mail, and a few others that have been forgotten. It is quite often that these hobbies make their way into her tales.
    Viola’s fetishes include boots and corsetry, and her greatest weakness is her uncontrollable blush. Her writing actively pursues the Happily Ever After that so rarely occurs in nature. It is an admirable thing and something that we should all strive for. To find one that we truly like, as well as love.