Dani Harper

It's a difficult truth to face that some people choose to define themselves by the pain they feel or the wrongs they've suffered. They're not going through hard times so much as making all times hard.

Magic is magic. It isn__ good or bad in and of itself. It__ the intent that matters. Ideally, you treat magic as a gift and you use it to influence natural forces to help and to heal. It__ a positive act.

By the time she yanked on her old jeans and a battered plaid flannel shirt, she felt almost normal. Calm, as she plugged in the coffee pot. But the nightmare was still very much on her mind, because it wasn__ a dream_It was a memory.

Although only three legs would obey him, the white wolf began to run. Run, to outpace the agony that could rip and tear a human heart. Run, to outdistance the human grief that could not be borne. Run, to be as the moon, a swift white shape gleaming in the night. Run, to be a wolf and only a wolf.As he raced away into the welcoming arms of the night, James was only fleetingly aware that he had just buried his human self alongside Evelyn.And then he was aware of nothing.

I__ almost used to you showing up without shoes, but where the hell are your pants?

The Tylwyth Teg were immortal beings, but the burden of living for endless millennia was often tedium. It was one reason that the Fair Ones tended to play terrible pranks upon mortals. Like bored children, they sprang upon the unwary, seeking diversion. So it had been when a weary Celtic warrior turned reluctant gladiator had fought his way to freedom at last. Wounded and near death, pursued by his former captors, he__ blundered straight into the territory of the Tylwyth Teg in the steep hills northwest of Isca Silurum_.

Rhys was hot enough to bake cookies on.

As she peeked through the curtains with the phone in her hand, waiting for the police dispatcher to pick up, she realized there was one thing she did know about the naked stranger in her yard. He had, without a doubt, the finest butt on the planet.

Come with me if you want to live._ Neva stared at the enormous hand the stranger extended her. Her gaze followed the black leather-clad arm up to the massive shoulders, the strong jaw, and the thick lock of wavy blonde hair hanging over his dark glasses. __ou have so got to be kidding me,_ she said.He shrugged. __ always wanted to say that line. Except I__ not kidding.

Romans and fairies and death dogs, oh my.

I__ no werewolf, and I__ tired of hearing the word. I__ a Changeling, okay? And either you trust me or we call it quits right here._ It was Travis__ turn to fold his arms, as if he was daring her to convince him.

Rhys__f that was even his real name__ither believed what he was saying or he was a prime candidate for an Oscar. Because try as Morgan might, she couldn__ see any evidence that he was lying. He had to be crazy then, but everything about the whole situation was insane. After all, she was standing in her front yard in her pajamas, holding a naked man at the point of a garden hoe. She__ taken assertive action when she__ seen him lying in the grass, assuming he was drunk or something. Well, she__ gotten the upper hand all right. Now what was she supposed to do with the guy?

Shit. Shit. Shit. He__ known he couldn__ save her. He__ known he was too far away. Knowing didn__ prevent the bare-knuckled punch to his heart, though.

I really hate you."It was loud and clear in his brain. "Your first words. How sweet." "Get out of my head. You__e not invited.""This is how Changelings communicate as wolves. Get used to it." He picked his way through the bushes to get closer to her _ although he was prepared to dodge if she decided to bite him again. "Are you okay?""My head hurts. No thanks to you.""Yeah, well my ass hurts. No thanks to you.

Maybe she__ remember him as a pain in the ass. Or maybe, he hoped most of all, that she__ remember what she told him: __ou can be a real jerk sometimes, but you__e decent._ As epitaphs went, it wasn__ bad.

Travis ignored her protests as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, thankful anew for that little Changeling quirk that allowed him to retain his clothes and everything that was within his aura each time he shifted. Christ, if life was like the movies, he__ end up naked and penniless every damn time he ran as a wolf. No wonder Hollywood werewolves were insane with rage. Probably pissed off at the sheer inconvenience of their lives.

There is nothing like the moment you connect with a reader! Nothing like the response that you get when what you have written touches someone in some way. It's a moment in which your work is almost a co-creation, you and the reader joining forces to make your words live.

Aye, well, it__ like a battle. Ya lay yer plans, then when they go wrong, ya make things up as ya go.