I Never See A Novel As A

Outside, The September Air Was Enticingly Fragrant, Yellow With Pollen And Rich, Lemony Sunlight.

The Original Fairy Tale Was About The Youngest Sister Going Into A Room In The Castle And Finding All The Bodies Of The Wives That Came Before Her - She Is Confronted With Truth, Thinking About How Often We Think We Know People And We Really Don't.

We Are Only An Instant, That's True. But We Are Eternal.

I Never Plot Out My Novels In Terms Of The Tone Of The Book. Hopefully, Once A Story Is Begun It Reveals Itself

She Was So Busy Forgetting, She Couldn't Take A Single Step Into The Future.