Every night death came, slowly, painfully, and every morning Maddox awoke in bed, knowing he'd have to die again later. That was his greatest curse and his eternal punishment.

Don't look now, but that's my ex over there." Surely I'm not the only one who takes "don't look now" as "there's no better time than now." I looked. "Bad, Ali!" Another slap to my arm. "Bad, bad, bad Ali! Have you no self control?

Fine," Strider said tightly. "You can. But you wont. Because you know that if you take the woman out of this home, I'll go gray from worry. And you like my hair the way it is." "Stridey-man. Are you hitting on my? Trying to get me to run my fingers through those mangy locks?" Gideon chuckled. "Sweetie pie." Striders lips even twitched into a grin. "You know I hate when you get mushy like that." Boy loved it. No question.

How does fear become so powerful? We can’t see it. We can’t touch it, yet it gets its claws in us and begins to control us. Sigh. I hate feeling afraid, and I hate, hate, HATE feeling out of control.

We are so not breaking out the violins and pity partying.

I had faith, and if I had faith I couldn't worry.

Replies began arriving seconds after he pressed send, and soon every single one of the warriors (besides William) had agreed to come home. Take me out of your address book, William