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I’d been declared—over my loud and sustained protests—Pythia, the chief seer of the supernatural world.

Karen Chance

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Karen Chance
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Orlando
Florida
Sustained
Supernatural
Protest
Chief
Chiefs
Seer
Loud
Protests
World
Seers
Declared

More quotes by Karen Chance

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Can we just do this?” Ray asked tightly, clinging to Zheng’s already slightly elongated arm. Because Louis-Cesare wasn’t the only one with a master power around here. “Let go,” Zheng told him. “I’m the rubber band you’re the spitball. And spitballs don’t hold on to rubber bands.” “Die in a fire,” Ray told him savagely. But he let go.
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And why not?” “You know why! This is a bad idea.” “Perhaps I like a challenge.” “Perhaps you’re a glutton for punishment!” “Perhaps I am in love.
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So maybe it was just as well that my companion was more like Mulder. A coked-out Mulder with a lot of weapons, who knew that the monsters under the bed were real and would gut you.
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He’s a war mage. They’re almost impossible to kill.” He scowled. “Even on purpose.
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Pritkin muttered something that sounded fairly vicious. “My clothes are warded! Even if I wished to accede to your demand, it would not work on them.” “Then strip.” “I beg your pardon?” He sounded almost polite suddenly, as if he believed he couldn’t possibly have heard right.
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Mr. Complete Lack of Sympathy
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You will die a worse death if you do not leave my domain,” a voice thundered down from the third story of the old tenement. “I am a servant of the Sacred Fire, the wielder of the flame of Arnor—” “So I should call you Gandalf?
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This was Dante's. Crazy was what we had for breakfast when we ran out of Corn Flakes
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I lay there, no longer fighting, since my head was spinning too much. And because I wasn’t going to win anyway. And because I kind of liked the feeling of sensual captivity, at least by this particular jailer.
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Fools fight winners think.
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I was tops at the Scarlet O'Hara school of emotional distancing. I always thought about the uncomfortable stuff tomorrow, and, as everyone knows, tomorrow never comes.
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They don’t eat that much.” “In comparison to what? Starving marines?
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Where. Is. He? Alphonse repeated, although it sounded more like Don't make me eat your face.
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You know, I've lived a long time, he told me, massaging my calf more firmly now. And I met a lot of people. But I ain't never met a woman made me want to beat her to death as often as you.
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I stared at him, unable to believe this was happening. That he could just disappear, along with everything rich and strange he’d brought into my life. Vanished, like magic.
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Then why are you getting dressed?” “Maybe I don’t like being the only naked one in the room,” I said sarcastically. And immediately regretted it. “That is easily remedied,” he told me, and pulled off his sweater.
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The worst part was the silence. Death was supposed to be loud — gunshots, explosions, screams and thunder. Not this eerie quiet that wrapped around me like a shroud.
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The Circle had been less than thrilled by its choice, but we'd finally come to terms. As in, they were no longer trying to play Whac-A-Mole with my head. Only now they seemed to think they had the right to make sure that nobody else did, either. That was a problem, because the vampires felt the same way and the Senate didn't share well.
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I turned over, and those big hands got to work on my back. I stifled a whimper in the pillow, because Marco's idea of a massage bore no resemblance whatsoever to the relaxing spa variety. There was no lavender oil, no soothing music, no hot towels. Just an all-out assault on cramped muscles, until they cowered in surrender and turned to Jell-O.
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They- He stopped and just blinked at me for a minute. You know, people are always saying that you're cuckoo. Looney Tunes. Off the freaking edge. But I tell 'em, no, she's okay. She's got some...anger management issues. But you know what? They're right. You're nuts.
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