Who was that?” I whispered, as if the walls could hear me. They were lined with pictures, a few of which I recognized as being painted by master painters. “Rhys.” “Yeah, I know but… is he my brother?” I asked. I had already decided that he was foxy, so I really hoped that he wasn‟t.

No! If you die, I die! You asked me to spend forever with you, and I'm going to!

Right then, it didn't matter what his reasons were. All I knew that I was sick of him breaking my heart.

If Peter Pan had been real, he would've gone mad and killed everyone in Neverland.

My mom has a tape from when I was, like, 2 years old, talking with my grandma, telling her a story that's really elaborate about werewolves and wolves.

I was always writing. When I was a little kid, before I learned how to write, I would tell stories. But as soon I as capable, I started writing. I filled notebooks and notebooks until I got my first computer when I was 11. It never really occurred to me that I would do anything else.

You really do hate me, don't you? I mean, destroying someone's ice-cream cone? That's vicious." Her cheeks reddened. "I didn't see you there. Honestly." She wiped at his shirt more frantically, as if she could prevent it from staining if she rubbed hard enough. "Oh, now I see your plan, and it's far more devious than I thought." Daniel smirked. "You were looking for an excuse to grope me.