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Fiyero + Fae


The blanket hung between them, chin to ankles, but seemed about to bust into flame itself, or roses, or a fountain of champagne and incense. Odd how the richest images bloomed in the mind when the body itself was most alert . . .
"No," she cried, "no, no, I'm not a harem, I'm not a woman, I'm not a person, no." But her arms wheeled of their own accord, like windmill sails, like those magicked antlers, not to kill him, but to pin him with love, to mount him against the wall.
-City of Emeralds

11 tracks