excerpt from Moons' Kiss by Kimberly K. Comeau:
The violence of the morning commingled with the intimate violence of the surgery. Manerra's hair rose and his scalp ached. Even with eyes closed he could not escape the sounds of the surgery or the heavy smell of burning oil mingled with the scent of blood and the pungent-sweet aroma of dayflower. He envisioned Yutrenta smoothing the scalp flap over the living brain and stitching the wound closed, but in his too-vivid imagination, the center of that skin flap rose and fell with the pulse of a heartbeat until he moaned and shifted in an effort to escape that image.
How could any living thing survive the violence of that intrusion?
The same way a seed falling into a rock crack grew into a tree; but such hearty seeds were few, and perhaps this demon seed would not survive Yutrenta’s efforts to save it.