A spiritual journey is becoming what one has always meant to be-come and always was. One with God's Spirit.

— Jazz Feylynn

Be careful. The conditions are treacherous with mud-sucking tentacles pulling shoes and socks into the murky bottom while smearing grime on those who passed by.

— Jazz Feylynn

Being a werewolf, an alpha more so, isn't about being aggressive over others but controlling yourself, the wolf's wild virus inside my DNA, and emotions that comes with the beast.

— Jazz Feylynn

Butterfly upon my hand, A voice of wonder within my mind, not my own but the butterfly's.

— Jazz Feylynn

Fingers you, claws me, crossed hoping Dad sees it that way.

— Jazz Feylynn

Her blue eyes glowed headlight red into my leafy greens. Those eyes were freaky.

— Jazz Feylynn

Her wild race caused the dried-up ferns, thorny plants, and low-hung tree branches—away from the lake—to grab at our clothing in the mad dash over the narrow packed dirt through the trees.

— Jazz Feylynn

His eyes forward didn’t deviate from the off-road trail, his chiseled jaw gripped shut during the ride. He didn’t release any sound of explanation until we arrived.

— Jazz Feylynn

His eyes, if anything, gleamed even more bright, having found the treasure he sought.

— Jazz Feylynn

His eyes never blinked or wavered from mine, encompassing me in a field of control.

— Jazz Feylynn