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He looked blank. “He’s the one who’s been doing the magic against us?” “Duh,” I said. “Doona be ‘duh’ing me, lass,” he growled, his burr thickening.
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
Looked
Magic
Thickening
Burr
Burrs
Lass
Growled
Blank
More quotes by Karen Marie Moning
The kind of person that thanks another person never survives. Have you learned nothing?
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I make a new discovery that totally blows dying is the easy part. It's coming back to life that sucks.
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Oooh! Stop that. When you smile at me I want all of it. What? He looked confused
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Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does job applications anymore?” “I do.” I squint at it, then him. “What are you paying me?” I angle. “Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does money anymore.” I snicker. First sign of any sense of humor he’s shown. Then I remember where I am and why. I wad it up and throw it at him. It bounces off his chest.
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He didn't just occupy space he saturated it. The room had been full of books before, now it was full of him.
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He had a come-and-get-me-baby-I'm-pure-trouble-and-you're-gonna-love-it kind of attitude.
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Caring is love. And love fights! Love doesn't look for the path of least resistance.
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I don't make sonic booms. I want a whip. I like the idea of walking around making sonic booms everywhere.
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A wing or a thigh? Ah, I'm afraid we don't have any thighs left.
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Hours later, Adam propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at Gabrielle, pondering what made beauty. He thought he was beginning to understand. It wasn't symmetry of features it wasn't perfection. It was uniqueness. That which one person had that no other possessed. That which was only their own.
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Are we, like, having a conversation? Did you just, like, ask me for advice and listen with an open mind? If so, then yes, I would call this a conversation
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The inspector ate only two of my tiny sandwiches: the first because he hadnt expected it to taste so awful the second, I think, because hed thought surely the first must have been a mistake.
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Yesterday is skin on snake, to be shed many times.
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The running pants were tolerable, Drustan decided, relieved. The blue trews had clearly been a torture device and would have strangled a man's seed. Mayhap men were fashioned differently in her time. He hadn't seen one other bulge out there on the street mayhap they all had wee carrots in their trews.
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What is trust, sidhe-seer, but expectation that another will behave in a certain fashion, consistent with prior actions?
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It's so easy to lie. What’s even worse is how we cling to those lies. We beg for the illusion so we don’t have to face the truth, don’t have to feel alone.
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The White Mansion isn't boring, lass. Never boring. It's the grand demesne the Unseelie King built for his concubine. It's a living, breathing love story, testament to the brightest passion that ever burned between our races. You can follow the scenes through if you've time enough and are willing to risk getting lost for a few centuries.
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Are you decent? a woman's voice called, pushing the door cautiously ajar. Nay, but we're clothed, Cian purred.
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One of the primary tenets of the course was that highly successful leaders kept journals, morning and night, in order to stay tightly focused on their goals.
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Lust is a thing of the blood. Doesn't need head or heart.
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