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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.

Karen Chance

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Karen Chance
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Orlando
Florida
Feeling
Lays
Winning
Liked
Fighting
Longer
Wasn
Jailer
Feelings
Particular
Captivity
Going
Least
Sensual
Much
Head
Spinning
Kind
Since
Anyway

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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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They’ll have to eat first. And by the time they’re finished, you’ll be back.” “With the condoms.” “Right.” “For the giant orgy you’re convinced we’re about to have in the backyard.” “Dory! Just go!” “I’ll go with,” Ray said, getting up. “I need a snack.” Which was how I ended up condom shopping with a vampire.
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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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Fools fight winners think.
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To know Pritkin was to want to kill him, but so far I'd resisted temptation.
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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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I thought there was a good chance the fridge was possessed. It was subtle about it, but I had its number. I knew its ways. Oh yes.
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Fresh blood at midnight isn't red. It's a purplish black that easily blends into the shadows.
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He had the look of an atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.
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Pritkin kissed like he did everything else, straightforward, accepting no prisoners and with an intensity that left me breathless. It was hot and hard and desperate, like he was starving for it, and I opened my mouth and took it, because, God.
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It's about time! It's supposed to be a ritual, not a marathon.
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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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Poireaux vinaigrette aux grains de caviar.” I did a quick translation. “Leeks and fish eggs in vinegar?” He grinned. “It sounds better in French.” Yeah, but did it taste better?
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What is your problem?” I asked, scooping the freezing mess out of my cleavage. “We got unfinished business,” he reminded me. “My name’s not Bill.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I loved that movie. Shoulda brought a katana, but it seemed like an unfair advantage.
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Yes, but knee pants are so much more flattering. You can see my legs. You want people to see your legs? I have very nice legs! We both paused to admire them for a moment.
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Great. I'd been dumped in Hell's waiting room.
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...I ran out of stock around midnight and dropped by a place, got some Chinese. I hoped he meant takeout.
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I barely heard him, I was too busy watching Pritkin, who had slumped over with his head on the sofa arm, shoulders shaking helplessly, and what looked suspiciously like tears leaking out from under his closed eyes. Not that bad, he muttered, and then he was off again.
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Come and take your seat, Lady Dorina.
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I left it with a warmer,” he said drily. Because war mages ate their fried chicken frozen to the ground and they liked it.
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