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She's too young. Too innocent. Too human. For what I'm becoming.

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
Innocent
Becoming
Young
Human
Humans

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Holy borrowing bibliophile, let's book!
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The kind of person that thanks another person never survives. Have you learned nothing?
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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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Your race devotes itself to justifying its errors, not correcting them
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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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Those who were so long imprisoned in ice and darkness seem to find the sunlight jarring, painful. The longer I walk around with this grief inside me, the more I understand that. It’s as if sunshine is a slap in the face that says, Look, the world’s all bright and shiny! Too bad you’re not.
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There was pain, but there was also joy. It was in the tension between the two that life happened. Imperfect as it was, this world was real. Illusion was no substitute. I'd rather live a hard life of fact than a sweet life of lies.
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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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If I'm a little girl, then that makes you a serious pervert.
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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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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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You, Ms. Lane, are a menace to others! A walking, talking catastrophe in pink!
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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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You & I are here but the wind is everywhere. Cast no words upon it you don’t wish followed back to you.
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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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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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It's a strange new world out there and the rules have changed: It's every princess for herself.
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The kiss....was not meant to seduce, it was meant to mark a woman's soul. Chloe
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Jericho Barrons just told me he loves me.
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I wondered what one wore to visit a vampire. The chic red sweater set didn't go so well with my darker hair, and I was afraid it might be construed as a flirtatious invitation to color me bloodier.
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