I frowned, wondering if Trent would mind being the size of a fairy for a day. He could talk to the newest tenants in his garden.

I just want my name back so my life can go back to chaotic and weird instead of chaotic and desperate.

So I’ve seen my boys do that a hundred times with the neighboring pixy girls. Give her their favorite seed and be too flustered to tell her what it was.

And then there are the rare ones who know love, who understand it. Who freely give of themselves, demanding only a return of that love,that trust.

I have a name,” I grumped, my stomach pinching me harder. “Yes, but it has no pizzazz. Ra-a-a-a-chel. Rach-e-e-e-eel,” he said, trying it out in different ways. “No one will tremble in terror at that. Oh my God!” he said in a high falsetto. “It’s Rachel! Run! Hide!

His eyes met mine at the soft touch, and a chime seemed to shake the ley line, realigning the universe. He was mine.

And I’m not spying! I’m evaluating!” “It’s the same difference!