Mrs. Murdo, walkind even more briskly to keep her spirits up, was crossing Harken Square when something fell to the pavement just in front of her with a terrific thump. How extraordinary, she thought, bending...

The king who stepped into the ballroom wearing a green velvet robe and bejeweled crown was none other that the tiger-man who’d prowled through my nightmares and nearly every waking moment for the past two...

I love you, I want to tell yu that, I want to say it for the billion times I couldn’t say it. – Fletcher Green

No, Rae, the clocks won’t chime again, these clocks have marked my fall.” – Fletcher Green