she lived her life as a dragon and never understood those who didn’t. Why anyone would want to be human was beyond her understanding... And damn it all, she was brilliant!
Soon he would be able to touch her, to feel the warmth of her blood. When the time came, nothing would stop him.
She also understood there was a hole in her heart where her son should be, that she was a wicked, selfish woman for wishing him back.
As for Ellai, she told her sister what had passed, and Nitid wept, and her tears fell to earth and became chimaera, children of regret...
Here she is,” her mum said, cooing at the baby, “my special girl.” “Oh, cheers,” Valkyrie said, rolling her eyes.
the only way Bex would miss this would be if she were unconscious. And tied up. And in a concrete bunker. In Siberia.
I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you to keep in, and the kind you don't to let out.
After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her.
She smiled at him as they waited for their dessert, her chin poised on her clasped hands. 'You're being very silent.' 'That's how men cry.
It wasn't till Sebastian began to stalk toward her that she recalled her situation. She was wet and half naked, alone in a room with a strong brutish male of unknown intentions.
All we had was her room, her stories, and the quiet that settled in as we tried in vain to spread ourselves out and fill the space she'd left behind.
If you had a piece of coal, we could hold her down, shove it up her ass, and come collect a big, fat diamond in a few days.
Amy," Elsie Moore said in her crackling voice, her gaze fixed on Declan. "I want you to get me a new bear. A blond one.
He can’t ground her if he’s already killed her,” I pointed out when Juliana quoted this to me. “Well, he can, but it wouldn’t have the same impact.
The moon in all her immaculate purity hung in the sky, laughing at this world of dust. She congratulated me for my carefully considered maneuvers and invited me to share in her eternal solitude.
What was it about that short creature with her wild hair and spurious air of purity and why would anyone much less two men love her and to such disastrous ends.
For a minute, the fantasy frightened her, but ultimately, this fear saved her from feeling alone.
She remembered her fingers threaded through his hair and his kisses in places that made her long for him years later.
Will you marry me?”, I let my soul go… to go meet hers, through her eyes.
It's like she has her heart in her hand and it's broken. She's holding it out and showing me all the little pieces. Or maybe it's my heart.
Her descriptions will be incandescent, perfect little nuggets of phraseology, and there will probably be lots of sex in her writing - the clinical type of sex with labias and clitorises and tongues going everywhere.