“She pushed Adam firmly back, once and for all, and turned to face the demon, the crescent moon of the scythe's blade circling over her head as a vane signals a change in the weather.The wind was finally blowing her way.”

“She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails.”

“If it's easy to be friendly she will be. If the wind blows the other way her friendship will be gone. And I'm thinking the wind is blowing the other way. She has found some other way to be an important person in her own right by hating others.”

“...her hand closes on smooth metal. Her fingers test the sharpness of the edge. Perfect. It's a fresh blade. The girls' voices rustle in her head. Their clamoring pushes out all rational thought. She rolls up her sleeve. The bite of the blade kills the noise. It wipes out the memory of those staring faces. Willow looks at her arm, at the life springing from her. Tiny pinpricks of red that blossom into giant peonies.”

“As she relaxed against his chest, he pulled her in closer. Turning her face into his shirt, she breathed in the calming scent that was him. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into the fabric.One big hand stroked over her head, down her long ponytail to rub her back in soothing circles. “No, I’m sorry. You’ve told me before it made you uncomfortable and I pushed. That was an asshole move. You’re entitled to your feelings and I shouldn’t fight against them. I’m sorry.” He dropped a kiss on her temple.And with that little apology, she stepped off the cliff of denial and fell headfirst into love with Brett Wallace.”

“I hear one of my mares scream, and I turn long enough to flip open my bag and throw a handful of salt in her direction. She jerks her head up as some of it sprinkles her face; she's offended but not hurt...I turn back to the sea, and the wind throws sand in my face, hard enough to offend but not to hurt. I smile a thin smile at the irony and turn up my collar.”