She was a wicked thing sometimes. All full of want. As if the shape of the world depended on her mood. As if she were important.

With his eyes and those hands there won't be a woman safe in all the world when he starts hunting after the ladies.' 'Courting, dear,' my father corrected gently. 'Semantics,' she shrugged.

There is nothing quite so delightfully mysterious as a secret in your own backyard.

I'm not a speed writer. I write slowly and revise obsessively. The end result tends to be good. That's where my strength is.

When the hearthfire turns to blue, what to do? what to do? run outside, run and hide when his eyes are black as crow? where to go? where to go? near and far. Here they are. see a man without a face? move like ghosts from place to place. whats their plan? whats their plan? Chandrian. Chandrian

I'm honestly not a big fan of pitching things. I'm a firm believer of letting the product speak for iteself.

I will say the most raw joy I've experienced reading has probably come from the times I've been reading with my little boys.