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I am a kite in a tornado but I have a long string. There is tension in my line. Somewhere, someone is holding onto the other end and, although it cannot spare me this storm, it will not let me be lost while I regain my strength. It is enough.

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
Someone
Although
Spare
Enough
Somewhere
String
Long
Line
Spares
Strength
Strings
Tornado
Lines
Onto
Tornadoes
Lost
Tension
Kite
Cannot
Holding
Kites
Ends
Storm
Regain

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And after I act as your intermediary and he takes you back to Faery, then what? Then all will be made right, and I'll be invincible again. She rolled her eyes. I meant, what happens to me? While you may be the most important thing to your egotistical little self in your narcissistic little world, guess what— so am I in mine.
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It's why I laugh so much. If my face is going to stick, I'm going to like looking at it.
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Who would ever understand me?
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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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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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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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Finally, he knew the kind of loving that made two one and understood Jane was his world. His ocean, his country, his sun, his rain, his very heart.
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Holy borrowing bibliophile, let's book!
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We are not perfect. What god is Examine yours. According to your mythos he was so disappointed with his initial efforts creating your race that he tried again. At least we imprisoned our mistakes. Your god permits his to roam free. At a mere few thousand years old your creation myths are far more absurd than ours.
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I'd rather live a hard life of fact than a sweet life of lies.
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Tuatha De do not walk the human realm alone. Actually, they don't walk alone much anywhere. Only the occasional rogue Fae will do so. Like yourself? Yes Most of my kind have no fondness for solitude. Those who walk alone are not to be trusted. Really, she said dryly. Except for me, he amended, with a faint, insouciant grin.
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Hours later, Adam propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at Gabrielle, pondering what made beauty. He thought he was beginning to understand. It wasn't symmetry of features it wasn't perfection. It was uniqueness. That which one person had that no other possessed. That which was only their own.
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Truth hurts. But lies can kill.
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He is in my soul and i am in his, and we are in bed but we are in a desert, and i do not know where he begins and i end - Mac
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All my life, up until that moment, I'd had a warm, protective blanket wrapped around me, knitted of aunts and uncles, purled of first and second and third cousins, knot-tied with grandmas and grandpas and greats. That blanket had just dropped from my shoulders. I felt cold, lost and alone.
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She's too young. Too innocent. Too human. For what I'm becoming.
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When Darroc returns, I know by the look in his eyes that I've chosen well. He thinks I picked black and red for him, the colors of his guard, the colors he has told me he selected for his future court. I chose black and red for the tattoos on Barrons' body. Tonight I wear my promise to him that I will make things right.
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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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Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye.
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Barrons, Jericho: I haven't the faintest fecking clue. He keeps saving my life. I suppose that's something.
Karen Marie Moning