At the Water's Edge

The monster—if there was one—never revealed itself to me again. But what I had learned over the past year was that monsters abound, usually in plain sight.

It seems there’s nothing so good or pure it can’t be taken without a moment’s notice. And then in the end, it all gets taken anyway.

I paused beneath the arched entrance, where the drawbridge had once been, imagining all the people who had passed in and out over the centuries, every one of them carrying a combination of desire, hope, jealousy, despair, grief, love, and every other human emotion; a combination that made each one as unique as a snowflake, yet linked all of them inextricably to every other human being from the dawn of time to the end of it.

Life. There it was. In all its beautiful, tragic fragility, there was still life, and those of us who’d been lucky enough to survive opened our arms wide and embraced it.

Always carry a large flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite, and further, always carry a small snake.

I stared at him for a long time. If he wanted to end his search for the beast, he need look no further than a mirror.

I want to knit socks for the soldiers." "It's not as easy as that," she said, looking at me strangely. "It's difficult to turn a good heel. There are competitions over it.

She blamed the lack of real flowers on both weather and the war, and instead put four or five pieces of coal in glass bowls, added water, salt, and ammonia, before finally pouring a mixture of violet and blue ink over them. It was a complete mystery to me how this alchemy would result in anything resembling flowers, but they were “blooming” within the hour.

And you know what they say. Always carry a large flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite, and further, always carry a small snake.

Violet was nothing if not sensible. She didn’t even approve when we pulled entirely harmless pranks, like hiding someone’s yacht in the wrong slip, or turning the racquet club’s pool water purple.

For the rest of the night, all I could think about was how many heads had lain on those pillows before my own.

Beneath it was a photograph of Hank alone, standing shirtless on the deck of a sailboat with his hands on his hips.

game?—but I wasn’t shocked, as I once might

comparison. His eyes were hazel, and his arms ended in white bandages just below the elbows.

I sat in silence, absorbing this. They’d wagered that Mr. Ross wouldn’t throw me out if I was on my own, and no thanks to them, they were right. I wasn’t just their plaything, their pretty, fake wife. I was their unwitting pawn, theirs to strategically play.

One Crow for sorrow, Two Crows for mirth, Three Crows for a wedding, Four Crows for a birth, Five Crows for silver, Six Crows for gold, Seven for a secret, never to be told.

It was full of luxurious trappings and shiny baubles, and that had blinded me to the fact that nothing about it was real.

She had been warned away from it her entire life, for its depth came quickly, its coldness was fierce, and the Kelpie lay in wait.

Anna’s parents were staunch Wee Frees, and she wasn’t even allowed to wear face powder, never mind attend a dance. Music itself was not allowed, except on Sundays, and then it had to be for the sake of worship only, and sung unadorned. The senior McKenzies were so strict they confined their cockerel under a bushel basket on the Sabbath so he wouldn’t get up to anything untoward with the hens.

I stepped forward, as Màiri once had, until my feet were at the water’s edge. I took another step, just a little one, so that the soles of my shoes were submerged. I watched the water swirl around them, then looked up at the loch itself, black and rolling, endlessly deep.

exactly what she was really doing. It took but

and Flying Changes. Her works have been translated into forty-three languages and have

laughter, I noticed a footman in old-fashioned knee breeches perched near the top of a

It seems there's nothing so good or pure it cant be taken without a moment's notice. And then in the end, it all gets taken anyway.

His mother was exacting revenge because he’d dared to marry me, and his father—well, we weren’t exactly sure. Either

She’s not your friend. She’s a barmaid.

At home, she sulked with extravagance, and I learned early that silence was anything but peaceful. She was always upset about some slight, real or imagined, and more than capable of creating a full-blown crisis out of thin air.

Ellis had slept through the entire thing. That, or he was dead, but I saw no reason to check. If he was dead, he’d still be dead in the morning.

stared at him for a long time. If he wanted to end his search for the beast, he need look no further than a mirror.