I Have Absurdly Vivid Dreams.

They Are Enthusiasts, Devotees. Addicts. Something About The Circus Stirs Their Souls, And They Ache For It When It Is Absent. They Seek Each Other Out, These People Of Such Specific Like Mind. They Tell Of How They Found The Circus, How Those First Few Steps Were Like Magic. Like Stepping Into A Fairy Tale Under A Curtain Of Stars… When They Depart, They Shake Hands And Embrace Like Old Friends, Even If They Have Only Just Met, And As They Go Their Separate Ways They Feel Less Alone Than They Had Before.

And Now, I'm A Best Selling Author, A Different Sort Of Fairy Tale That I Still Sometimes Wonder When I'll Wake Up From.

The Silence That Falls Between Them Is A Comfortable One. He Longs To Reach Over And Touch Her, But He Resists, Fearful Of Destroying The Delicate Camaraderie They Are Building. He Steals Glances Instead, Watching The Way The Light Falls Over Her Skin. Several Times He Catches Her Regarding Him In A Similar Manner, And The Moments When She Holds His Eyes With Hers Are Sublime.

I Don't Always Write In Order, So Composing Multi-book Stories Could Get Complicated.

Do You Remember All Of Your Audiences?" Marco Asks. "not All Of Them," Celia Says. "but I Remember The People Who Look At Me The Way You Do." "what Way Might That Be?" "as Though They Cannot Decide If They Are Afraid Of Me Or They Want To Kiss Me." " I Am Not Afraid Of You," Marco Says.