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Minimal damage to the book cover eg. If this is a hard cover, the dust jacket may be missing. Binding has minimal wear. The majority of pages are undamaged with some creasing or tearing, and pencil underlining of text, but this is minimal. No highlighting of text, no writing in the margins, and no missing pages. See all condition definitions — opens in a new window or tab. Business seller information.
Taming the Lone Wolff
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- Missions taming the Wolff.
- 14 Fun Facts About the Grand Canyon: A 15-minute book (15-Minute Books 80)?
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Free postage Opens image gallery Image not available Photos not available for this variation. Get an immediate offer Up to Shop with confidence eBay Premium Service Trusted seller, fast delivery and easy returns. Learn more - opens in new window or tab eBay Money Back Guarantee Get the item you ordered or your money back. Learn more - opens in new window or tab musicmagpie See all musicmagpie has no other items for sale. At long last, he pulled up in front of the house. The surrounding real estate, sprawling outside of Nashville proper, was home to country music legends, recording industry moguls and anyone else to whom money was no object.
The two-story Georgian redbrick lady in front of him sat gracefully on the land, her many windows glistening in the afternoon sun. Larkin grabbed a notebook and his laptop and got out, inhaling the scent of roses and freshly turned dirt. He had grown up in what many would call a modern-day castle, but this serene facade impressed even him.
Much of his work took him to city high-rises and aesthetically bland corporate headquarters. The summons had been a bit odd and nonspecific. But perhaps he was imagining trouble where there was none.pt.nybomufo.ga
Taming Your Monkey Mind to Focus on Writing - Time to Write
Families with lots of money often felt the need for protection. He should know.
- Missions taming the Wolff.
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Ringing the bell shaped in the head of a lion, he waited calmly. For a man in his occupation, patience was a prerequisite. Suddenly, the large door swung inward and a woman stood before him. She was small, barely reaching his shoulder. Barefoot and wearing denim overalls cut off at the knee, the fabric neatly cuffed midthigh, she looked about eighteen.
Her untamed hair was the color of corn silk, but it fuzzed out in a mass of unruly waves that almost overpowered her narrow face. Wary green-and-amber eyes surveyed him, even as her pointed chin lifted slightly. Larkin gave her a brief smile, trying not to notice that the thin white T-shirt beneath the overall bib seemed to indicate she was braless. The curves of her generous breasts peeked out the sides. Winifred Bellamy. Winnie felt a sudden need for either smelling salts or a quick belt of whiskey. It had been a long, long time since a virile, handsome man had crossed this threshold.
It was one of her favorite rooms. She had furnished it simply but comfortably, and the small baby grand in the corner was one she played when there was no one around to hear. Audubon prints graced the walls, and a pale green silk Persian rug, enormous in length and width, cushioned her feet as she sank her toes into the pile.
Its intricate pattern reminded her that someone, somewhere, had labored over its creation for days, months, years. Winnie admired such single-minded devotion. She curled into an armchair and waved her guest to the sofa. She was not a victim. She was in charge. Winnie Bellamy hated being robbed. Money was one thing…she had plenty of it.
But when Arista Magazine listed her as one of the twenty wealthiest women in America, Winnie lost something she valued more than anything else…her privacy…and her anonymity. She placed her hands on the arms of the chair, deliberately displaying an air of confidence. Larkin Wolff was not sure what she wanted from him. So he decided to push a little.
If part of his line of questioning had more to do with sheer curiosity than actual necessity, well…that was his business. He settled back and drummed his hands on his knees. How did you end up on that wealthiest-women list?
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Her posture and graceful movements projected dignity. She carried herself regally, as if she had spent her formative years at exclusive Swiss finishing schools. And perhaps she had. She took a moment to almost visibly compose her thoughts before speaking. Her demeanor seemed pensive. The pregnancy was somewhat of an embarrassment to my mother.