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.

But you didn't need me, did you? You'd already got yourself to safety." "Sometimes, I sleep better knowing you . . . and Niall . . ." She faltered. "Love you from a safe distance," he finished. "Yes.

Faeries are equally loyal and deceitful.

I was very afraid to write a novel - it was a dream for a very long time, and it was one of the few things that I was afraid to try.

Hold me? If you still want to, I mean." She looked away. "Everyday"--then he was there, lifting her into his arms, holding her like she was fragile and precious--"I want to hold you every day. Nothing will ever change that.

Maybe the girl would get strong enough to withstand an ink exchange with one of the chosen faeries. If not, he could always give her to one of the weaker fey. It seemed a shame to waste a lovely broken toy.