“I don’t hate the baby…” he said unhappily, “…I just hate what it’s done to us.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 8)



          It was hours later when
my husband found me, still sitting on the trunk with the diary in my
hands.  I was so caught up, I didn’t hear
him come home.  But here he was, in human
form once more and wearing a change of clothes.

          Declan climbed up the
attic ladder as he tracked me down by my scent. 
He frowned as soon as he spotted me, reading under