Tattoo Before And After Pregnancy

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Incipit of September by Rosamunde Pilcher

early May summer finally arrived in Scotland. The winter had taken too long the country in the grip of his iron fingers, refusing to loosen its grip. Throughout April icy winds from the northwest had raged, ripping the first flowers of wild plum trees and burning of yellow trumpet daffodils early. The snow still encrusted the top of the hills and lay deep in the ravines, and the peasants, no longer hoping pastures new, they brought out the last crop tractors cones and scattered in the fields naked, where the cattle bellowed stored in the shelter of stone walls .