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I'll never get laid trying to keep you safe. You're a train wreck on steroids.
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
Never
Steroid
Wreck
Wrecks
Laid
Train
Safe
Keep
Trying
Steroids
More quotes by Karen Marie Moning
Who would ever understand me?
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How does it feel, MacKayla? You have a piece of me in your mouth. Would you like another?
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Like sheep, sidhe-seers herd by nature, until you *want* them to go somewhere. Then they're all fluffy bottoms and broken.
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The two of you are getting downright chatty, aren't you, Ms. Lane? When did you last see him? what else did he tell you? I'm asking the questions tonight. If an illusion of control comforts you, Ms. Lane, by all means, cling to it.
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Dude, got eyes? I'm collecting evidence. [...] In Ziploc bags. I think they're Glad. They look impartial to me.
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What are you?” I said irritably. “In the Serengeti, Ms. Lane, I would be the cheetah. I’m stronger, smarter, faster, and hungrier than everything else out there. And I don’t apologize to the gazelle when I take it down.
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There are three floors beneath the garage? Why on earth? -Mac
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Barrons, Jericho: I haven't the faintest fecking clue. He keeps saving my life. I suppose that's something.
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If you are not with me, you are against me. I have no mercy for my enemies.
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The battle had been invisible to the naked eye, but the hardest ones are.
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Oh, please, I rolled my eyes, You're a leftie, Barrons. Touche, Ms. Lane, he murmured.
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I get off on a man with strong moral fiber. The closest Barrons ever gets to fiber is walking down the cereal aisle at the grocery store.
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If I'm a little girl, then that makes you a serious pervert.
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You've been doing something bad since the moment you met me, lass.
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Don't bother trying to guilt me. Ask my other. It doesn't work.
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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'd pushed inside me and I'd feel him begin to penetrate, it had turned me into a wild thing-hot, wet, and desperate for more of him. With every kiss, every caress, every thrust, I'd just needed more. He'd touched me, I went nuts. The world dwindled down to one thing: him.
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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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I am a kite in a tornado, but I have a long string.
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Fear and doubt are major stampeders.
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