As for me, I was just trying to get it right, whatever that means. But now I finally felt I was on my way. Everyone had a forever, but given a choice, this would be mine. The one that began in this moment, with Wes, in a kiss that took my breath away, then gave it back - leaving meastounded, amazed and most of all, alive.

Writing a novel is like childbirth: once you realize how awful it really is, you never want to do it again.

So maybe it wasn't the fairy tale. But those stories weren't real anyway. Mine were.

Doesn't it seem sometimes that the whole world's uphill but at least we know the way back will be easy.

But it was okay not to fit in everywhere, as long as you did somewhere.

I never really know what I'm going to write next until it comes to me. So we'll just have to see what happens.

Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.