Jason settled back on the bench. 'I hate to break this to you, but as a rule, wizards are nasty people. They're powerful, capricious, ruthless, egotistical, used to getting their own way. That's being kind.

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

You do not respond to an attempt on your life with a slap on the hand. Or a joke.

They were like two pieces of a failed star, drawn together by a shared history and a memory of illicit kisses.

He would find a way to make it work, because he finally understood that sometimes you have to raise your expectations. And sometimes you need to make a claim on the world and the people you love to get what you most desire

I like rough edges. That's what makes a person real.

The bluejacket girlie rode like a clan warrior, but there was no way she'd escape. It was a private life-and-death contest that had nothing to do with him. He told himself he should ride on, grateful that the chase would keep them occupied while he took a different path. But what had he told Rebecca when she'd asked what he meant to do when he returned to the Fells? 'I'm tired of people in power picking on the weak. I'm going to help them.