Love makes you foolish. It makes you throw every bit of logic away, do stupid things, dangerous things.

What does it mean when nightmares dream of peace? When shadows wish for light?

I am Devlin, brother and advisor to the High Queen, assassin, and keeper of order.

He'd given her his vow: to take care of her, to keep her from hurt or pain, from wanting for anything. Her leaving didn't negate his promises; they weren't conditional.

If he took her into his arms, he would keep her. He wouldn't let her suffer the way the other mortals had when he'd left them. He would keep her, with his court's permission or without it. Irial wouldn't take her, and Keenan wouldn't stand between them.

Over a four-month period, I sat down and wrote every day. And then there was a novel, and all of a sudden, there were agents and offers.

Without stopping kissing her, he swept her up into his arms. They stood in the motel lobby kissing until someone called, "Get a room." Donia pulled back and laughed. "That was the plan. They said no.