(…) the woman we love ought to swim as slowly as we do, she ought to have no past of her own to look back on happily. But when the illusion of absolute identity vanishes...

I think it’s obvious if you’re wanted here or not.””Daemon,” hissed Dee, her cheeks red. She turned to me, tears in her eyes. “He’s not being serious.””Are you being serious, Daemon?” Ash turned in his...

I should have told.” The legacy of a helpless, vulnerable, out-of-control, and humiliated child creates an adult who is generally tentative, insecure, and quite angry. The anger is not often expressed, however, as it is...