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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.
Karen Marie Moning
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Karen Marie Moning
Age: 59
Born: 1964
Born: November 1
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Idea
Making
Around
Booms
Ideas
Sonic
Make
Whip
Like
Whips
Everywhere
Walking
More quotes by Karen Marie Moning
His coworker was velvety-skinned, a sexy boy-on-the-cusp-of man.
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I'd rather live a hard life of fact than a sweet life of lies.
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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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You might be able to thrash your way out of a spiderweb, but thrashing in quicksand doesn’t work. The harder you fight, the more ground you lose. Struggling merely expedites your inevitable defeat.
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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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Don't leave me, Rainbow Girl. Rainbow Girl. Was that who I was? It seemed so long ago. I smiled faintly. Remember the skirt I wore to Mallucé's the night you told me to dress Goth? It's upstairs in your closet. Never throw it away. It looked like a wet dream on you.
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You have splendid breasts, lass, he purred, cupping the plump mounds. Splendid, he repeated stupidly, and she almost laughed. Men loved breasts any shape or form, they just loved them. -Drustan to Gwen
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I felt the electricity of his body behind me as he reached around me and took the card from my hand. He didn't move away, and I battled the urge to lean back into him, seeking the comfort of his strength. Would he wrap his arms around me? Make me feel safe, if only for a moment, and if only a delusion?
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He closes his hand around mine and I hold on. I like his hand. It's big and holds easy but sure. It's the kind of hold that says, I got you if you want me, but I'll let you go if you feel like running for a while.
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Irony, perfect definition: that for which I want to possess it, I would no longer want once I possessed it.
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I'm not the hero, Mac. Never have been. Never will be. Let us be perfectly clear: I'm not the antihero, either, so quit waiting to discover my hidden potential. There's nothing to redeem me.
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Gah, some chicks should be shot. Put out of everyone else's reproduction pool.
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Caring is love. And love fights! Love doesn't look for the path of least resistance.
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When he kisses me again, the last part of me that could stand myself dies.
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Feelings, emotions - they are neither right nor wrong. They cannot be assigned a value. Feelings *are*. By labeling a feeling wrong, you force yourself to ignore that feeling. And what you most need is to feel it, let it burn through you, then get on with life.
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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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Life equaled love plus passion squared. Loving and being passionate about what one did was what made life so precious.
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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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Barrons, Jericho: I haven't the faintest fecking clue. He keeps saving my life. I suppose that's something.
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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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