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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.

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
Inner
Navigation
Eternity
Intent
Road
Slaves
Movement
Studied
Small
Maps
Born
Skin
Humans
Skins
Infuses
Every
Slave
Plastered

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Gwen Cassidy needed a man. Desperately. Failing that, she'd settle for a cigarette.
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I'm his locomotive and he's my shield.
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A fecking flamethrower! Why didn't I think of that? Best I came up with was a measly hair dryer.
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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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Who would ever understand me?
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We will K‘Vruck the world.
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As she lifted the glittering strand of diamonds from the box, a small slip of paper fell out. She caught it as it wafted toward the floor. Four words in ancient script, an arrogantly slanted scrawl. Accept these, accept me. Well, she thought, blinking, that was certainly direct and to the point. -Adam's note to Gabrielle
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He was still frowning at the cake, looking at it as if he expected it to sprout dozens of legs and begin scuttling toward him, thin-lipped, teeth bared.
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I have your word?” “You trust my word?” “You’re an idealistic fool. Of course.
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Yesterday is skin on snake, to be shed many times.
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Like a horse, honey, somebody's gonna break you.' 'Never. Going. To. Happen.
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There are only shades of gray. Black and white are nothing more than lofty ideals in our minds, the standards by which we try to judge things, and map out our place in the world in relevance to them.
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Sometimes the small pleasures in life are the sweetest.
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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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Yesterday was a memory. Tomorrow was a hope. Today was another day to live and do one's best to love
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Oooh! Stop that. When you smile at me I want all of it. What? He looked confused
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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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Dude, the bush is ready. Why you still beating around it?” “I’ve lived a long time, kid, and I’ve never heard anyone mutilate the English language quite like you.
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Some people fall apart when they get hurt. Puddle into apathy and despair and never recover. They wait all their lives for someone to come along and rescue them.
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