I’m not cs747,” she whispered defiantly as she shifted on her cot in order to lean back against the wall. “My name is Jean.

He wondered if there was a way human males said they were sorry about something without saying they were sorry. Because he wasn’t sorry about being angry.

But during the day... that was life. The collection of small details that made up a shared day were what gave richness to what happened in the bed at night.

I refused to be less than what I am, and I made them deal with me on my own terms.

The heart’s need to make its journey through life calls to us. Some hearts will back away from the journey, too fearful to leave the familiar even though it withers. Others wills leap forward and never look back, bruising the hearts left behind. Pain will force some to begin the journey. For others, love will be a beacon that keeps them moving forward.

It was hard to be around Jean because he looked at her and saw what Meg’s future would have been if she hadn’t been brave enough to run away – and if Jean hadn’t been brave enough to stay.

Ms. Borden is Lizzy’s mother?

Vlad looked around. “Are we providing shelter, or are the humans actually buying books?

Whether it was true or not, it eased his heart to think there was something beyond the physical plane, something that felt benevolent toward humans, because the gods knew there wasn’t much on the physical plane that felt benevolent toward them.

Sylvia had given him a scalding lecture, the gist of it being that whatever a woman enjoyed wearing was feminine and anything she didn’t enjoy wearing wasn’t, and if he was too stubborn and old fashioned to understand that, he could go and soak his head in a bucket of cold water. He hadn’t quite forgiven her yet for saying they would have to look hard to find a bucket big enough to fit his head in to, but he admired the sass behind the remark.