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eBook Category: Fantasy
eBook Description: A frustrated writer runs away from her mundane life, only to find she's carried her inhibitions with her. Then, on the island of Skye, she meets a young musician who shows her what freedom of both body and soul really means.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Realms of Fantasy, 2002
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2002

16 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [38 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [41 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [23 KB] , Portable Document Format (PDF) [96 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [25 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [72 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [96 KB] , hiebook (KML) [85 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [48 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [21 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [26 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [54 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [38 KB]
Words: 7543
Reading time: 21-30 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

Kate had always threatened to run away, and now she'd done it. She'd run until she reached the end of the Earth....

Well no, she thought, second-guessing herself yet again. This hotel wasn't at the ends of the Earth. The Earth went on forever, round and round, until you passed yourself struggling along the road. What she'd come to was the end of her wits.

Through the window of the lounge she saw a green lawn stretching down to a bay, where jagged black rocks looked like spears thrust into the silvery sand of the beach. On a promontory to the left stood a ruined castle, its broken walls and towers rising from the rock the way memory, desire, and regret rose in the back of Kate's mind. From the far horizon rose the humped peaks of the Outer Hebrides, blue against the only slightly less solid blue of the sky. Huge white and gray clouds sailed overhead.

Behind her dishes clattered. Kate looked around. Of course she'd ordered tea. Here, tea was as much medication as beverage.

The waitress was a young woman with the ample figure of a Mediterranean mother-goddess figurine. A name tag reading "Lucy" clung to the fabric above her breast like a skier poised for a downhill run. She set the tea tray down with a smile.

Kate picked up the metal teapot and almost dropped it. "Whoa, it's hot!"

"Oh aye," Lucy agreed, and started collecting the empty cups from the next table.

Her fingertips tingling, Kate poured, added milk and sugar and started to drink. Steam rose from the cup, misting her glasses. No, she'd scald her mouth. Better wait.

She pulled her noteBook out of her purse and opened it to the first page. A blank page, each ruled line like the bars of a cell. She held her pencil poised above the paper, waiting for inspiration, or, failing that, gravity, to pull it downward.

"You're a writer then?" asked Lucy.

"No, not really."

"Getting the words down, that's magic." Lucy vanished out the door.

Magic, Kate repeated silently.