That is the joy of reading fiction: when all is said and done, the novel belongs to the reader and his or her imagination.

The evening had turned sweet and blue.

And then I understood that she had no idea what she'd done to my family. She thought love and hatred were equal.

But most important of all, she explained that it was all right to say 'No. I disagree.' that was a gift. I understood it was power. The power to think my own thoughts. The power to believe in myself.

She can feel his blood, just beneath his skin; when he breathes, the air fills with smoke. He's like a dragon, ancient and fearless.

Ironically, now that my children are older and gone quite a bit, I find it harder to work when they're not around. Too much free time!

I must keep my head and not give in to desire, for desire is what causes women to drown.