Danika Stone

“She scanned the Starveil posts, her mood darkening. Spartan had been a part of her life since elementary school. Losing him felt like having a piece of herself torn away. No amount of fix-it fics or alternate universes could change the fact her one true character had died.”

“Xander stood at the end of the bed, hands on hips, the jacket she'd helped him sew thrown open, a gold-threaded waistcoat glimmering underneath. He was the Regency hero today, but she didn't feel like being saved.”

“That, my dear Liv, was confidence. Talk to someone. Make jokes with them. Seem interested in what they are saying even if they're dull as mud.” He shrugged. “Anyone... anyone at all, can be glamoured if you know how.”

“The uneasy expression returned and his mouth twisted scornfully. She waited, certain he was going to say something. Lou'd heard it too many times before: a woman doing a man's work. She'd already decided how she was going to cut him down if he did. Instead, he said nothing.”

“So she's one of the grande dames of fandom? The Madame de Staël of the Starveil world?”

“She'd just thrown gasoline on the fire. Now it was up to fandom to keep it burning.”

“Sometimes,” she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek, “you need to be lost in order to be found.”

“There were streetlights here, but they were so far apart and surrounded by trees that light dropped away to solid black between them. The skin on the back of his neck crawled as he became aware of the darkness. He didn't usually walk around after nightfall, but tonight he'd had no choice without his car. The wind lifted his hair, leaving him shivering; a voice in his mind chattered nervously.There was someone in my yard the other night...”

“For a long time, they sat without speaking. The air outside was filled with the lilting sound of sparrows, the buzz of traffic on Main Street, and under that the faint lapping of waves on the lakeshore. Lou smiled. It wasn't the same, but it was better.And better, Lou thought, is a start.”

“She was all about the present. Paint and blood and lust. The now.”

“In his stupor, the forest had begun to change. The sounds were confusing, his eyes blurring in his exhaustion. He tugged another branch out of the way, gasping as a jagged twig poked through the palm of his hand, momentarily catching there. The pain was almost an afterthought, his fingers no longer working effectively.”

“If #SpartanSurvived failed in its efforts, no one would be the wiser. There was no risk to her online persona. No backlash from haters. Anonymity’s cloak both protected her and kept the torch of Spartan alive. Because as much as fandom knew a fan had created the post, the faceless message held the faint promise of authenticity. And if people believed it, then the magic was real. They could change Spartan’s fate, because they thought they could, and tonight’s video would cast the first spell.”

“Lou could imagine Rich hiding within. She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander, search, and finally focus on him. Hurry up, Rich, she thought. Feeling the tug of connection, a thrill of anticipation ran up her spine. Lou didn't let herself nudge events often, but she did it today.”

“If you're trying to figure out why something's not working,” Old Lou had explained, “just focus on the things that do work. Move through those things first and eventually you'll find the one part that's stuck.”

“Trapped on a school bus for an hour each morning and each evening, she devoured book after book. She explored a hundred worlds, indifferent to her peers and the passing of the universe.”

“She lifted her head in surprise, following his line of sight above the tree line. Beyond the distant peaks, a green and blue symphony of lights had begun. It rippled and shimmered like sunshine on water, leaving Rich blinking back tears. He'd read something about this but had never seen it before.“It's the aurora borealis,” Lou said quietly. “Northern lights.”

“Breathtaking.That was the word, Liv decided, which had convinced her to wear the ludicrous outfit, because no one - not the one, solitary boyfriend she'd had during high school, or the leering frat boys she avoided at college parties - had ever spoken to her with such reverence. And with Xander beaming down at her, she did feel beautiful.”

“It made sense, Amanda decided. People thrived on the misfortunes of others: her mother was the perfect example of that. Can't see a car accident, she thought, for wanting to climb inside and join in.”

“Lou stood at the kitchen sink, her eyes unfocused on her hazy reflection in the window. Outside the sky was fading from steely blue to indigo. The mountain range beyond was a solid sheet of black, cut out by a child's sloppy scissors.”

“She turned his hand over, tracing letters into his palm. I…L.O.V.E…Y.O.U…”