Between Walls
Um þessa rafbók
That’s rule number one. Well, it is if you’re an emotionally constipated fae lord. As far as I’m concerned, the vampire could do a better job of keeping his distance, but he’s never been that good at following the rules.
G’day. I’m Pet. Schrödinger’s Pet, these days; depends who’s asking.
I’m human, but when you hang around with enough Behindkind, it starts getting dangerous for the other humans around you. Humans like my friend Morgana. I tried to stay away, but now she needs my help and don’t get too close to humans isn’t exactly gunna cut it anymore.
I’ve got the feeling I’m about to find out why it’s such a bad idea.
Einkunnir og umsagnir
Um höfundinn
W.R. Gingell is a Tasmanian author of urban fantasy, fairy-tale retellings, and madcap science fiction who doesn’t seem to be able to write a book without a body suddenly turning up. She solemnly swears that all such bodies are strictly fictional in nature.
W.R. spends her time reading, drinking a truly ridiculous amount of tea, and slouching in front of the fire to write. Like Peter Pan, she never really grew up, and is still occasionally to be found climbing trees.
