My granda always told me that fall's the time to root up something you don't want coming back to trouble you.' Kote mimicked the quaver of an old man's voice. 'Things are too full of life in the spring months. In the summer, they're too strong and won't let go. Autumn...' He looked around at the changing leaves on the trees. 'Autumn's the time. In autumn everything is tired and ready to die.

It doesn't eat meat." I said. "It's a herbivore. It's like a big cow." Denna looked at me and started to laugh. Not hysterical laughter, but the helpless laughter of someone who's just heard something so funny they can't help but bubble over with it. She put her hands over her mouth and shook with it, the only sound was a low huffing that escaped through her fingers. There was another flash of blue fire from below. Denna froze midlaugh, then took her hands away from her mouth. She looked at me, her eyes wide, and spoke softly with a slight quaver in her voice, "Mooooo.

By your logic I should also be in charge of Solinade dances, needlework, and horse thieving.

It wasn't even a good note. 'If you are reading this I am probably dead.' What sort of a note is that?

It gets tiresome being spoken to as if you are a child, even if you happen to be one.

After a certain point is reached the numbers cease to matter, and all that remains is the faceless mass of a crowd.

For me the really cool parts of being an author don't have anything to do with getting onto a bestseller list.