| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 1ef95ff | Then the wind came in with Bart and blew the vase of roses from the table. I stood and stared down at the crystal pieces and the petals scattered about. Why was the wind always trying to tell me something? Something I didn't want to hear! | petals-on-the-wind vc-andrews premonition roses wind gothic | V.C. Andrews |