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When I thought of Eric with someone else, I wanted to rip out all his beautiful blonde hair. By the roots. In clumps.

Charlaine Harris

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Charlaine Harris
Age: 73
Born: 1951
Born: November 25
Actor
Author
Camera Operator
Crime Writer
Film Producer
Karateka
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Writer
Tunica
Mississippi
Charlaine Harris Schulz
Hair
Else
Beautiful
Someone
Clumps
Thought
Rip
Wanted
Eric
Blonde
Roots

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Could I tell them I was sorry their loved one was dead, when he’d tried to kill me? There was no rule of etiquette for this even my grandmother would have been stymied.
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And by golly, love sure was a battlefield. Benatar was right about that.
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I drank lots of water and orange juice and took a multivitamin and iron supplement for breakfast, which was my regimen since Bill had come into my life and brought (along with love, adventure, and excitement) the constant threat of anemia.
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I stroked Eric's hair, tucking some behind his ear. His eyes on mine were intent, and I knew he was waiting for me to speak. I wish, I said, I could save orgasms in a jar for when i need them, because I think I had a few extra. Eric's eyes widened, and all of a sudden he roared with laughter. (Dead to the World)
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Sometimes, instead of going down the road less taken, you just charge down the beaten path.
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I felt like a car that had only been operated by one driver… a car its new prospective buyer was determined to take to the Daytona 500.
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If I have to choose between you and me - I like me better.
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Snow, here? Eric was as delighted as a child. I love snow! Why was I not surprised? Maybe we will get snowed in together, he said suggestively, waggling his blond eyebrows.
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It was somehow degrading, craving someone so... voraciously - another good calendar word - just because he was physically beautiful. I hadn't thought that was something women did, either.
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You are speaking of my future lover. Be more respectful.
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The average woman would not be pondering how fast her date could kill her, but I’ll never be an average woman.
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Food that walked and talked, that was us. McPeople.
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Appius Livius Ocella made mistakes in his whole long existence. Perhaps changing Eric was his finest hour. He created the perfect vampire. Eric's only flaw is you.
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I love him, I said, but even to my own ears I didn't sound happy about it.
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People fidget. They are compelled to look engaged in an activity, or purposeful. Vampires can just occupy space without feeling obliged to justify it.
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Men sometimes have to leave their ladies alone, and ladies are not responsible for the bad manners of fools.
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My eyes flew open, and I pushed back against rock-hard shoulders. I let out a little squeak of horror. It's me, said a familiar voice. ...Eric, what are you doing here? Snuggling.
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I am here, Eric said. And I am here. I was a little amused at Eric's phone answering technique. Sookie, my little bullet-sucker, he said, sounding fond and warm. Eric, my big bullshitter.
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