A fiction writer is never entirely alone. Her characters are constantly whispering in her ear.

Like a stand of lodgepole pines in a gale Raisa's followers all went down leaving her standing alone....There's no shelter for me not from any of this. I'll stand alone the rest of my life. THE GRAY WOLF THRONE p. 163

Tears stung her eyes. She sank her knees next to the sleeping bench and gently raked strands of golden hair from him forehead. "Don't you die. don't you dare. I forbid it." As if Han Alister had ever listened to anything she said.

Fitch is on his way. He's coming after he blows up some wizards.

I've found it wise to enjoy any time of truce, while recognizing it for what it is. A truce.

Falling in love was like falling off a cliff. It felt pretty much like flying until you hit the ground.

I continue to believe in miracles. But i know that miracles come to those who work very hard