His voice was oily and slick as it poured from his mouth like liquid acid, threatening to hook onto the woman's hair like a fishing hook and drag her back to death.
He put his forehead against hers. “Alannah, my heart is yours.” He said softly. “And yet, I must hand it over to someone else for the keeping.” Her last words falling to a strained whisper.
Anyone intent on moral clarity might want to find another book and, in fact, might not want to go anywhere near the enduring chasm of race in the United States.
I was absolutely speechless. The most beautiful man I had ever seen…IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, just said I was beautiful. I blushed when the reality hit me, and boy, did it hit me hard.
It felt odd to have interrupted the life of someone she knew nothing about, to kill someone she had only just met, as though killing needed intimacy, deep knowledge of the other, to make it all right.
He curled his claw into a fist. "I'd like to shove a stake up that bastard's ass." Adam's lip curled. "Remind me not to piss you off." The demon raised his brow. "Trust that shit, mancy.
I was a soldier. It is like a dream. When even the bones is gone in the desert the dreams is talk to you, you don't wake up forever.
Stories twist and turn and grow and meet and give birth to other stories. Here and there, one story touches another, and a familiar character, sometimes the hero, walks over the bridge from one story into another.
And what about us? Do you want a vampire boyfriend?" He laughed bitterly. "Because I forsee many romantic picnics in our future. You, drinking a virgin piña colada. Me, drinking the blood of a virgin.
Sleep well in my arms tonight, love, but know that we must come to an understanding of sorts--for I be a full-blooded male as this fire in my loins doth remind me--and unfortunately, not the saint ye so obviously would have me!
It's pretty crazy. I was thinking about that today, how 'True Blood' has penetrated so much of the cultural zeitgeist. It's truly amazing; it's incredible! The cover of 'Rolling Stone' is major. What's next, the cover of 'Vanity Fair?' When I'm in a ...
It's shitty I guess. They're my friends. But... everything I want to talk about I can't say to them. It feels so separate, like I've touched something that's taken the color out of me.
We've got our heads pulled low inside of our hooded sweatshirts and our eyes are shifty. We look exactly like you'd expect someone to look if they were minutes away from committing a major crime.
I hate telling people this. I never know exactly how my voice is going to sound saying it, and I hate the stricken looks they get on their faces when they don't know what to say back.
You know how spooky Ashwini is. She called an hour ago to tell me she has a secret stash of handheld grenade launchers she thought I might want to know about. My response was, 'What the fuck?
After sealing the door, Alqash went to the river to cleanse the blood from his hands and the dagger, and also to wash his hands of the faith that he had forfeited in exchange for short-lived riches.
I couldn't sew on a day like this. There's something in the air that gets in the blood and makes a sort of glory in my soul. My fingers would twitch and I'd sew a crooked seam. So it's ho for the park and the pines.
Try not to move around too much so you don't bleed again. The bandages aren't that thick and blood will soak through pretty quickly." "No problem," he says. "Shouldn't be too hard not to move around as we run for our lives.
Do you know we are being led to Slaughters by placid admirals & that fat slow generals are getting Obscene on young blood Do you know we are ruled by t.v.
A fierce battle was raging inside Harry's brain: But she's ditched Dean! I'm his best mate! If I talked to him first- What if I don't care?
And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off? Or pretending? He let them fall.
