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As he closed the door he said over his shoulder, Because you're a good lass. A heavy sigh. And I'm no' a good man.

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
Good
Lass
Men
Sigh
Shoulder
Closed
Shoulders
Heavy
Door
Doors

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If he were any other man, I might have suspected him of substance abuse, of being coked up or something. But Barrons was too much a purist for that his drugs were money, power, and control
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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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The only reality you can control is the one you're willing to face.
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You are what you are. Deal with it or change.
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You could ask me to teach you.” “Huh?” This night is getting weird in a hurry. “Teach me like you’re teaching a class or something? What are you going to call it: ‘You Too Can Be a Sociopath 101’?” “It would be more like a graduate-level class.” I start to snicker. His sense of humour sneaks up on you. Then I remember who’s talking and bite it off.
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Gazelles didn't lie down with lions, at least not unbloodied and alive.
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Lose the pessimism, Ms. Lane. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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Love knows no right or wrong. Love is. Only is.
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You believe in God? Dude. Only God could have created physics.
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Fire isn’t good or bad. It just burns.
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If I entered a tropical beach, would I end up in Nazi Germany with my highly inconvenient black hair?
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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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Is anyone who's supposed to be dead actually dead?
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Chloe-lass: If I'm not here with you now, I'm beyond this life, for 'tis the only way I'll ever let you go. ... I hoped I loved you well, sweet, for I know even now that you are my brightest shining star. I knew it the moment I saw you. Ah, lass, you so adore your artifacts. This thief covets but one priceless treasure: You. Dageus -In a letter
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I'm a bartender. I like recipes. They're concretes. Was the drink recipe for seduction one shot charm and two shots self-deception, shaken, not stirred?
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And now she was just Gabby, currently staying in a dreamy, magnificent castle in Scotland with a Fae prince who did all kinds of non-nasty, non-inhuman things like tearing up lists of names, and returning tadpoles to lakes, and saving people's lives. Not to mention kissing with all the otherwordly splendor of a horny angel.
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You and I more than anyone else in the universe are perfect for each other.
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Either I can stay up here and freeze my ladycrackers off trying to find a falling star, or you can do something about it yourself. I— and my freezing nether regions— would thank you most assuredly. As would all of Dalkeith. Do something, man.” - Grimm
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Never underestimate a well-dressed bimbo.
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I have studied humans for a small eternity. Intent infuses their every movement. Road maps to their inner navigation, plastered all over their skin. Born to be slaves.
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