Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?”Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.”I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous.“You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.”He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him.“Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath.“Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me.“I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.

How different this world to the one about which I used to read, and in which I used to live! This is one peopled by demons, phantoms, vampires, ghouls, boggarts, and nixies. Names of things of which I knew nothing are now so familiar that the creatures themselves appear to have real existence. The Arabian Nights are not more fantastic than our gospels; and Lempriere would have found ours a more marvelous world to catalog than the classical mythical to which he devoted his learning. Ours is a world of luprachaun and clurichaune, deev and cloolie, and through the maze of mystery I have to thread my painful way, now learning how to distinguish oufe from pooka, and nis from pixy; study long screeds upon the doings of effreets and dwergers, or decipher the dwaul of delirious monks who have made homunculi from refuse. Waking or sleeping, the image of some uncouth form is always present to me. What would I not give for a volume by the once despised 'A. L. O. E' or prosy Emma Worboise? Talk of the troubles of Winifred Bertram or Jane Eyre, what are they to mine? Talented authoresses do not seem to know that however terrible it may be to have as a neighbour a mad woman in a tower, it is much worse to have to live in a kitchen with a crocodile. This elementary fact has escaped the notice of writers of fiction; the re-statement of it has induced me to reconsider my decision as to the most longed-for book; my choice now is the Swiss Family Robinson. In it I have no doubt I should find how to make even the crocodile useful, or how to kill it, which would be still better.('Mysterious Maisie').

Bad in good and good in bad, see the life you could have had? Your life is the keyhole, and you are the key, don’t look back, NOW choose to be happy!”Deetkatu, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure.

Now Arthur, if humans could learn to gaze with their eyes or use their special sight, they would realize there is more to seeing than just what is in front of them!” Den the Wise Oak Tree, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure.

If you were happy with all you had, then you’d grow, If the sun and moon could make you glad, then you’d know. With food on your plate and a place to sleep, be thankful and you’ll be given more to keep, Just for now, what you need for now. Feel you are worthy, you will not lack, you’ll enjoy life and love to give back, Forgiving others you forgive yourself, which makes more room to live and be well, Just allow. For every gift you give extends, more love and wealth the heavens send, Again and again, ten times ten, Because you are loved more than you know, your mistakes turn you into a loving soul, You’ll learn how.” Trinity, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea.

Down the hill I went, and then,I forgot the ways of men,For night-scents, heady and damp and coolWakened ecstasy.

If you say something over and over and over again you may just start to believe it. If you truly do believe it, you can be sure you will receive it.Selkie Anne, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea.

When I am happy and when I really focus, I can! Whatever I dream of with my thoughts becomes a part of my world, my plan.”Deetkatu, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure.

Mr. Charles Dickens was serializing his novel Oliver Twist; Mr. Draper had just taken the first photograph of the moon, freezing her pale face on cold paper; Mr. Morse had recently announced a way of transmitting messages down metal wires. Had you mentioned magic or Faerie to any of them, they would have smiled at you disdainfully, except, perhaps for Mr. Dickens, at the time a young man, and beardless. He would have looked at you wistfully.

If you say something over and over and over again you may just start to believe it. If you truly do believe it, you can be sure you will receive it.'Selkie Anne, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea.