Sylvie Shigeru Quotes

“No one could deny that his face matched the sexy timbre of his voice; he was strikingly beautiful, with shaggy black hair and piercing eyes. A little bit of his mouth always remained open, even when his lips were closed in a tiny, perfect diamond shape.
He was two men: there was the one she saw in interviews- goofy, self-effacing, and gifted with the ability to make fun of himself and his profession, which put everyone at ease- and then there was the other Callum, the one on stage. Magnetic, dark, guarded, as if he was holding something back, as if it would simply be too much to give his purest and most authentic self to the audience.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“She was constantly running after her daughter, who took life at full speed. Sylvie was a firecracker. Piper loved her daughter'd exuberance, her happy and joyous nature; she even admired her defiance, which she knew mirrored her own.
As Sylvie grew into a young girl, it became obvious that she took after her mother. Sylvie could pass for almost anything: Asian, Latin, Eastern European. Like Autumn Avening, she looked like she could be from anywhere and everywhere. Piper didn't think that she herself was truly beautiful, yet even though she saw her own features on her daughter, Sylvie was the most striking child she had ever seen.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“From her father she had inherited a beautiful olive complexion and defined angular features; from her Irish mother she got a mass of fiery copper curls that hung down to the middle of her back. The combination was almost outrageously unusual, and Sylvie was sure that half the male population of Avening was in love with her. Molly's looks were so loud that she herself spoke only when she needed to. But Sylvie and Molly had known each other for so long that often times they didn't say anything.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“They drove about half a mile until they found their site. They were old hats, having been camping together several times. Sylvie opened the cooler and pulled out some chicken breasts to roast on the grill over the fire. She had also brought veggies she had washed and precut at home, then packed in aluminum foil with oil and garlic.
"God that smells good, Sylvie. I'm friggin' starving." Molly settled into the black butterfly chair she always brought along when she camped.
"I know, right? Food tastes so much better out here. I guess it's probably because you have to work so hard for it, huh?" Sylvie poked the chicken to check its progress.
"Yeah, that and the fact that you cook like MacGyver. You could, like, make a feast out of two blades of grass and a mushroom, whereas I can barely manage to open a bottle."
Sylvie looked at her friend sideways, but said nothing to the contrary, they both knew the truth of it. "I haven't eaten yet today and I'm about to faint. I think instinctively my body knows I'll need my strength for tonight."
"Oh yeah? You got plans I don't know about?" Molly said jokingly.
"I plan on dancing my ass off," said Sylvie.
"Tell me please we brought a camera. We did, right?"
"Please. You know I'm half Asian, right? My Japanese ancestors would be horrified if I'd forgotten a camera." Molly exploded into laughter.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“Molly and Sylvie had been friends since before either of them really had a concrete idea that they could do unusual things, and had fallen naturally into a gossipy, girlish way of sharing their strange discoveries: Sylvie the places she went when she left herself, Molly the things she saw before they happened. But as they got older, their abilities became a tacit secret, something they realized they couldn't share widely with everyone they knew, binding their friendship further in a kind of collusion.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“When the house grew as quiet and dark as the night outside, Sylvie lit a candle that smelled like cranberries and pumpkins. She lay on her bed in a white, sheer nightgown and watched the flame throw shadows around the room. It took a long while to center herself, for her breathing to grow steady and deep. She had no idea where Callum might be. She knew his neck show was south, somewhere in Oregon, so she focused on that particular element to guide her. Since the connection had been made, since she had already found him once, she knew she could do so again. She felt that familiar click of her body letting go and she went.
Sylvie found herself in another hotel room. This one was bigger and more lavish than the previous one. He was sleeping, half-naked. The sight of his bare skin, the defined muscles on his torso, took her breath away. She didn't want to talk to him at all, she wanted to climb underneath the sheet beside him, she wanted to touch every inch of his body and open herself up so he could fill her.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“He cocked his head. "But why did you come to begin with?"
"I think you know, Callum," she answered, embarrassed.
"Yeah, I think I do, but I want to hear it from you."
Why not tell him? This whole sequence wouldn't amount to much more than a dream tomorrow, anyway. "Because you're amazing, because you're a rock star, because you move me. There are probably a million girls on the planet who would do anything to be where I am right now." Luckily, she didn't tell him she loved him; that would have been really awkward. She made herself breathe. "But I took advantage of this ability I have. The real truth is that last night, I'm not sure I could have stopped myself even if I wanted to. I just never thought..." Sylvie trailed off, unable to continue.
"What?"
"I never thought you'd be able to see me. Most people can't."
"Really?" His expression was almost smug. "So why do you think I can?"
"I don't know. I don't think anyone really understands how this works. Most times I float around and go unnoticed. I thought if I could just see you, I could make a kind of peace with that." She looked down at her feet, feeling inexcusable. "I'm getting this all wrong. I just wanted to apologize, that's all. And now I really do sound like a stalker."
He laughed. "Hey, there are worse things in the world than being stalked by a beautiful girl who has this amazing ability to fly out of her body any time she wants to. What else can you do, Sylvie?" The question lingered in the air. She had a feeling that he wasn't talking about anything spiritual at all. In fact, she got the distinct impression that he was flirting with her.
"Don't you want me to leave? Aren't you pissed off?" she asked.
He laughed again, totally at ease. She wished she were as relaxed. "Listen, I'm a guy who likes his privacy. But there's something about you... something special. It seems crazy, but maybe I can see you because I'm meant to see you."
Sylvie didn't know what to say.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“She could almost feel each woman's intention through the paper. Ellie Penhaligan, who was so in tune with the earth and the elements that she could disappear into them. Stella Darling, whose suitability was a real no-brainer, especially now that she had opened her own natural healing practice. Stella was the only other person in Avening with formal magic training, and once time had mellowed her, she would be a true mistress of the elements. Nina Bruno, one of the most powerful candidates on her list, a real Charm Sister whose hypnotic personal energy would turn anyone her way. Eve Pruitt, who had no particular powers to speak of, but whose loving and giving energy radiated from her, putting everyone at ease- people magic. Maggie Moreau, who passed so effortlessly between worlds, and she hadn't even hit puberty yet. Her mother Mave- who would have thought Mave would have been interested? But she'd applied all on her own, and sure enough, Autumn had been forced to recognize her great untapped potential. Ana Beckwith, whom Autumn loved like a daughter born of her own womb, and who, whether she realized it or not, had already begun to tap into her ability to move through time. Ginny Emmerling, the lonely warrior who wanted to fight for a new piece of herself. Dottie Davis, the only applicant to understand the Book as a vehicle of spirituality. Charlie Solomon, that budding psychic reporter whom Autumn had all but coerced into settling down in Avening. Sylvie Shigeru, who was only just eighteen and had already made peace with her magic, and done so much to harness it. And last, her sister, Siobhan, who would be a prophet the likes of whom Autumn hadn't seen in many generations. Age wasn't a concern; Maggie and Siobhan wouldn't initiate for another ten years at least, and as for the older women, Dottie and Eve, initiation would change them the way it had changed Autumn so many centuries ago.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves