The Fairy's dress rustled as she turned. Human women dressed like flowers, layers of petals around a mortal, rotting core.

Power. Intoxicating. Like a fine wine.

He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water -- although she still tried to convince herself that love alone could feed her soul.

Quite suddenly Meggie felt fear rise in her like black brackish water, she felt lost, terribly lost, she felt it in every part of her. She didn't belong here! What had she done?

Words,words filled the night like the fragrance of invisible flowers.

What's that sticky stuff called? Basta: Duct tape. Yes, duct tape. I love duct tape.

But after all, the villains are the salt in the soup of a story.