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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
Blank
Looked
Magic
Thickening
Burr
Burrs
Lass
Growled

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But it seems Ive got this set of scales inside me that I never used to have, or at least I wasnt aware of, and I cant shake the feeling that if I dont try to keep them balanced, Ill lose something I wont be able to get back.
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I see God in a sunrise, not in repetitious ritual.
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Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them
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The other day upon the stair, I saw a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today how I wish he'd go away! ~Gabrielle O'Callaghan towards Adam Black
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Gazelles didn't lie down with lions, at least not unbloodied and alive.
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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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When he kisses me again, the last part of me that could stand myself dies.
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He didn't just kiss, he claimed ownership. Took her mouth with urgency, as if his life depended on his kissing her.
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Mac: It's not the sidhe-seers. He stopped and went very still. JZB: Who is it? Mac: The MacKeltars. He was silent a long moment. Then he began to laugh, softly. JZB: Well played, Ms. Lane. Mac: I had a good teacher. JZB: The best. Hop on one foot, Ms. Lane. Mac and Barrons
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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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So how did he look at me? Like it was his birthday and you were the cake.
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Your race devotes itself to justifying its errors, not correcting them
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I'd rather live a hard life of fact than a sweet life of lies.
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I can't help but see myself in them. The Seelie are who I was before my sister died. Pink, pretty, frivolous Mac. The Unseelie are who I've become, carved by loss and despair. Black, grungy, driven Mac.
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When he comes, he makes a noise deep in his throat that is so raw and animal and sexual that I think if he merely looked at me and made that noise, I might explode in an orgasm.
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We're taking back the night
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Being nearly naked around Barrons felt a lot like going to a shark convention lightly basted in blood.
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His coworker was velvety-skinned, a sexy boy-on-the-cusp-of man.
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You want to believe in black and white, good and evil, heroes that are truly heroic, villains that are just plain bad, but I've learned in the past year that things are rarely so simple. The good guys can do some truly awful things, and the bad guys can sometimes surprise the heck out of you.
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You're not falling for me, are you, Irish? -Adam to Gabrielle
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