He leaned back a little, not taking his arm from around me, but looking into my eyes. “You’re changing, Zoey. And I’m not sure what you’re changing into.

Da, hes waiting for me to tell the two of you our news first, then he'll join me." He cocked a dark brow at her. "And why would he not come to your mother and me first and ask permission to handfast with you, as is the honorable thing to do?" She cocked her own brow, mirroring his expression perfectly. "Because he's not stupid. Anyone with any sense would be scared of you two. But even scared to death, he wanted to come with me. I wouldn't let him. I knew I needed to talk to you alone first.

There were worse things than dying, and those worse things happened to the people you left behind.

I've found that the way a person feels about cats-and the way they feel about him or her in return-is usually an excellent gauge by which to measure a person's character

A sense of belonging is not physical. We cant find it by changing where we live or what we do. We have to carry it within us

Here's the bottom line; writers write. Sometimes words flow easily. Sometimes it's like sloughing through mud. Either way a professional writer keeps writing.

But will they be together again? If they're reborn as new people with no memory of their previous lives, how can they find each other?" "Soul mates will always find each other. Do not weep on their behalf...they will be together again." "Do you promise?" Lina's voice trembled with emotion. "I promise, sweet one. I promise.