He growled and swung a second, harder stroke.His blows drove my sister back. Her tulwar flashed as she parried each of the strokes, but he swung with ...ower. Her glowing, red hair danced around her, almost alive with fire. Flames flickered among her tresses.“Kurtis!” Lasla shrieked in fright.Another man swept into the room.I had to deal with him. I had to be a man and defend my women. I rolled out of bed and grabbed my own tulwar from where it rested by the bed. I whipped it out of the scabbard. I was just about to ask Bridget who the otherFrench Maid was when I woke up.On the following weekend's shopping trip I found myself going shoppingwith all three of my girls. We had been to the pub for lunch and I donot recall what happened exactly that afternoon save that picked a veganoption and I wound up with as many pairs of high heels as my girls. Irecall there was some mention of how horsemen were wearing high heels andsome sort of challenge to my masculinity along the lines of "Real. More

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