My Captive

“What did you bring from Russia? Vodka? A balalaika?” my friend asked first thing when I got back to Marseilles. “A bear,” I sighed. Mistaking my answer for a joke, Lucy has no idea who I’m keeping in the basement of our family castle—three kilometers from the shore, on an island. And my prisoner really is huge and strong, like a bear. But stubborn as a donkey! One single word stands between him and freedom... But he