Nani didn't look up immediately. She waited until the clock on the wall struck six. She picked up her silver fountain pen, a gift from a mentor who had told her that words were the only weapons that never needed sharpening.
The story they were working on wasn't for a book; it was a narrative for a major land conservation campaign. Nani believed that to save the valley, they shouldn't just present facts; they had to tell a story that made people feel the grass beneath their feet. nani forrester
"It's too soft," Leo ventured, leaning over. "The board wants strength." Nani didn't look up immediately
By midnight, the story was complete. It was a draft that would go on to save three thousand acres of forest. As she capped her pen, Nani looked out the window at the city lights. She was hard to pin down, indeed—a businesswoman with the soul of a poet and the bite of a wolf. The story they were working on wasn't for
