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284 pages, Hardcover
First published August 2, 2011
Little did I know that all of my works would center on those who felt lost inside their own worlds, or found in someone else’s.
‘There are no strangers in the town of Near.’ Lexi’s heard this all of her life, so her home becomes an unusual place when a very odd stranger appears—and events turn darker still when his new presence coincides with the nightly disappearances of young children.
Long, long ago, the Near Witch lived in a small house on the farthest edge of the village, and she used to sing the hills to sleep.
If the moor wind ever sings, you mustn’t listen, not with all of your ears. Use only the edges.
The wind is lonely, love, and always looking for company.
“They are closer to nature than any human, because it is a part of them. But most people think witches are cursed.”
“Now her blood is made of moor rain.”
“Now her voice is made of moor wind.”
“Fear is a strange thing. It has the power to make people close their eyes, turn away. Nothing good grows out of fear.”
-- MY STATUS --
“You really are like him, your father.”
“I can’t tell whether you think that’s good or bad.”
“What does it matter? It’s simply true.”
“Funny how when we start to tell a secret, we can’t stop. Something falls open in us, and the sheer momentum of letting go pushes us on.
“Maybe one day the words will pour out like so many others, easy and smooth and on their own. Right now they take pieces of me with them.”