2 Quotes by Wendy LaCapra

The Maximilian of her memory ceased to exist next to the real man. The former was a simple penny-lute tune. In the flesh, Max was the King’s Theater orchestra playing Haydn.

He cradled her burning cheek and his rough fingers chafed. He radiated more heat than a bustling inn’s kitchen – and his warmth was every bit as alluring. Comfort, his body promised. Care and sustenance.