Never before had she seen such creatures, though they looked much live very large, very shaggy white goats. Thin black horns punctuated the top of their long faces. You look like a collection of grandfathers, she thought, amused.

What people tell me they take away from my books is that they can shape their lives, they can achieve their own dreams. And certainly that's what I want them to take away.

I've written short stories in first person, but you have so much more control writing in third person. Third person, you know what everybody's thinking. First person is very limiting, and I could never sustain a first person novel before.

We could mate. In a year our nestlings would be large enough to mob anyone we like...Should I begin to court you? Do you like grubs or ants better?...I will be here. In case you change your mind about mating.

Men died as she watched, and they didn't care about what they had fought for.

"I am silly, now and then," Sandry admitted. "My mother said I was, anyway." "If you know, you can stop it." Carefully Daja placed a candle behind Trader Koma's image. "Then you've never been silly, or you'd know it just creeps up without any warning."

If I have to 'catch' a man to get a husband, I don't want one.