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I guess I can't blame him for feeling bitter. Going from being the terror of Bulgarian nights to a janitor would kinda suck
Kiersten White
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Kiersten White
Age: 41
Born: 1983
Born: June 27
Author
Writer
Utah
United States
Kiersten Brazier
Feelings
Suck
Night
Kinda
Going
Nights
Would
Bitter
Terror
Blame
Bulgarian
Guess
Bulgarians
Feeling
Janitor
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I scooted over, patting the bed next to me. No such luck. And now you get to watch forty straight hours of Easton Heights with me! He turned on the first disk, shaking his head, then got onto the bed next to me. Small price to pay for getting to hold your hand. I wasn't cold anymore.
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You just can't help topping your own levels of crazy,can you?
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Faeries are unaffected by alcohol, but much to her surprise—and the faeries’ undoing—they get very, very drunk on carbonation. Using copious amounts of Coke, she was able to discover a single faerie’s true name.
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Reth looked exasperated. “When is something ever not wrong in your life?” I frowned. “That’s my line.
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Jack! Where have you been,you miserable little creep? He raised his eyebrows,a look of mock hurt on his face.This is the thanks I get? Give me that bat and I'll show you how grateful I am, coward!
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Fabulous Jack said, reaching down and plucking a crimson flower. A small scream sounded from it as he severed the stem. He smiled maliciously, then started stomping with abandon through the beds of blossoms, a chorus of tinny, shrill screams punctuating every step.
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Survival instincts are one of those things that never die.
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Be prepared,' that's my motto. He smiled smugly at me. That, and 'Sleep whenever possible.' Oh, and 'If you don't notice it's gone, what's the harm in me taking it?
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In this room I have picked which gun was unloaded out of ten options. And then they pulled the trigger on me. I have picked stocks that went on to skyrocket. I have picked which pencil I would shove into Ms. Robertson’s ear until she kicked me out for thinking about it.
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Lish tried to swear--which is always funny, because the computer won't translate it. It went something like this: Bleep stupid bleep bleep faeries and their bleep bleep bleep obsessions. He had better stop bleep bleep bleep the bleep bleep rules or I will bleep bleep bleep the little bleeeeeeeeeeep.
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Streams of melting snow.
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-'I don't see what good it's going to do for you to waltz back in there and--' -'Can I tango back in there, instead? So much sexier than the waltz.
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Then the other door opened. I wen't rigid. If I had thought Reth's was beautiful, it was nothing to this soul. It filled the night with light, dancing and rippling like the reflection on a pond. I hadn't seen many souls, but I knew this one was special. I wanted it. I needed it.
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