It is the way of mortals. They fling themselves at life and emerge broken.
Wizards don't all look alike.
This world has need of song and sword.
So in the sweltering heat of a July night, I sang a Christmas carol to a room full of fae, who had been driven out of their homelands by Christians and their cold-iron swords.
Some truths are truths, no matter who says them.
The conflict between the creatures of Native Lore and the immigration of the European preternatural hosts is hinted at in 'Blood Bound' and reflects the conflicts between the human immigrants and the Indian people who were already here.