I don't always write in order, so composing multi-book stories could get complicated.

Old stories have a habit of being told and retold and changed. Each subsequent storyteller puts his or her mark upon it. Whatever truth the story once had is buried in bias and embellishment. The reasons do not matter as much as the story itself.

They say it's darkest before the dawn, but it also tend to be quietest, and the quiet lets you hear yourself better.

He spends the majority of the evening in the company of Celia Bowen, whose elaborate gown changes color, shifting through a rainbow of hues to compliment whoever she is closest to.

I mean only that I hope they find darkness or paradise without fear of it, if they can.

I cannot let a place that is so important to so many people fade away. Something that is wonder and comfort and mystery all together that they have nowhere else. If you had that, wouldn't you want to keep it?

Unusual yet beautiful. Provocative while remaining elegant.