The tent in which she first met him had smelled of blood, of the death she did not understand, and still she had thought of it all as a game. She had promised him the world. His flesh in the flesh of his enemies. And much too late had she realized what he had sown in her. Love. Worst of all poisons.

Second, there are so many magical places in books that you cant go to, like Hogwarts and Middle Earth, so I wanted to set a story in a place where children can actually go.

I wish I had more time to visit schools.

Every German child learns to speak English in school.

What are stories for if we don't learn from them?

I prefer a story that has the good sense to stay on the page where it belongs. - Elinor

My dear Elinor, you were obviously born into the wrong story,” said Dustfinger at last.