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A little blood never bothers me.

Karen Marie Moning

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Karen Marie Moning
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: November 1
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Littles
Little
Never
Bothers
Bother
Blood

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Using your own time to make someone else’s life better is, like, the nicest thing you can do for anybody.
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Born in a generation that thinks cynical and disenchanted is cool, sometimes I'm a little off the beaten track.
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I began peering into the corners of the room, making sure all the shadows were cast by objects and obeying known laws of physics.
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Life equaled love plus passion squared. Loving and being passionate about what one did was what made life so precious.
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Dude, the bush is ready. Why you still beating around it?” “I’ve lived a long time, kid, and I’ve never heard anyone mutilate the English language quite like you.
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Do your thing, Ms. Lane. you might be criminally young, but the night is not.
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You mean you have to be epic already, for it to make you more epic?
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It seemed Barrons had finally gotten his cake and eaten it too.
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The single greatest advantage anyone can take into any battle is hope.
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Gah, some chicks should be shot. Put out of everyone else's reproduction pool.
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Four: If you try to force yourself into my head, I will force myself into your pants.
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Who would ever understand me?
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Please tell me we don't grow up and turn into the adults that drive us crazy.
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When do these three days expire? That's what pisses me off. I don't know. He was annoyingly vague. The nerve. Threatening you and not being precise about it.
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You were firing questions at me today, trying to get inside my head. You asked if I believe in God. I told you of course I do - I've always had a strong sense of self
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Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever.
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There are three floors beneath the garage? Why on earth? -Mac
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Lies are horny little buggers, they breed like rabbits and bound around just as insanely and then you have to try to keep track of them.
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Gwen Cassidy needed a man. Desperately. Failing that, she'd settle for a cigarette.
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Finally, he knew the kind of loving that made two one and understood Jane was his world. His ocean, his country, his sun, his rain, his very heart.
Karen Marie Moning