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He balled up my discarded sweatshirt and put it against his shoulder. “Go on,” he said. “I don’t bite.” “And from what I hear, that’s a good thing.” He gave a rumbling chuckle. “Yeah, it is.” I leaned against his shoulder.
Kelley Armstrong
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Kelley Armstrong
Age: 56
Born: 1968
Born: December 14
Novelist
Writer
city of Sudbury
Sarah
Hear
Leaned
Thing
Discarded
Good
Bite
Balled
Shoulder
Sweatshirt
Bites
Rumbling
Shoulders
Sweatshirts
Yeah
Chuckle
Gave
Chuckles
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I was very strict on that point. No devouring classmates. Jeremy rolled his eyes. Other parents warn their kids not to talk to strangers. I had to warn mine not to eat them.
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He looked like a Yanni fan at an Iron Maiden Concert.
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You want to keep looking? I asked. Yeah, maybe. I'll leave you to it, then. I started for the door. No. He said it quickly, and reached for my arm, but stopped before he touched me. I mean, if you're tired, sure, but you don't have to. Derek doesn't want her to leave ♥
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His gaze travelled down me, then zipped back to my face. Sorry. Focus, Rafe. I am. Just on the wrong thing.
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He was tall and scrawny with a face that could be mistaken with Keith Richards on a bad day.
Kelley Armstrong
He stood and inhaled, then walked a few more feet, stooped, and prodded a chunk of rabbit fur. “I’m definitely thinking something with more body parts,” I said. “Like a head.” He gave a snort of a laugh. “It’s probably around here somewhere, but I suppose you want the parts attached, too.
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The truth is, if a werewolf behaved like this psychopath it wouldn't be because he was part animal, but because he was still too human. Only humans kill for sport.
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He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt and had stopped in the middle of the hall, furiously scratching one bare forearm. Fleas? I said.
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Lavina led me to an abandoned warehouse. I think that at some point someone decreed that all clandestine meetings must be held in one. Woe to the criminal overlord who lives in a city thriving with commerce, with no empty warehouses to be found. He probably needs to build one, just to have a place to arrange late-night meetings. (Bewitched)
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You forget, darling, I am the local psychopath. ~Clayton Danvers, Bitten
Kelley Armstrong
The stairs aren't challenging enough anymore? he asked. Antonio laughed. Challenge has nothing to do with it, Jer. I'd say it's the big bad wolf huffing and puffing at her door up there.
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The upshot of her tirade was that I was the devil's spawn and should be locked up in a tower before I unleashed hordes of the living dead to slaughter them all in their sleep. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but not by much.
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Bigger room, darling. Like I said, we need a bigger room.
Kelley Armstrong
I lifted onto my toes, put my hands aroung his neck, and pulled him down. When our lips met, that first jolt... It was everything I hadn't felt with Simon, everything I wanted to feel. His hands went around my waist, pulling me closer--
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What's next? If there are vampires in there, they probably drink artificial blood plasma substitute.
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I didn't need to be rescued. Sorry, but my sword outranks your… she glanced at my hand, sock puppet.
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Who cared whether you could change motor oil when you could snap a rottweiler’s neck in 2.8 seconds? Now there was a practical skill.
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Where's Simon?...Is he okay? Why isn't he here? She glared at Derek. Where'd you leave him? Passed out in an alley. Derek frowned in thought. Not sure where, though.
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We scarified a mosquito. I bet that's what did it. It was probably a virgin too.
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Elena? Yes, unless Nick found a woman in the forest, which I suppose wouldn't be too surprising.
Kelley Armstrong
