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The gentle sound of her words became the shushing of my blood in my head, and I listened, hovering on the edge of consciousness, bathed in the oblivion of whatever drug they had given me.

Kim Harrison

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Kim Harrison
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Midwest
Wyoming
Dawn Cook
Whatever
Edge
Sound
Gentle
Words
Edges
Given
Became
Drug
Bathed
Consciousness
Hovering
Blood
Oblivion
Head
Listened

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He just wanted to hold her to him and tell her it would be okay, that she had survived and was beautiful.
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I thought it odd that the woman was over a thousand years old but thought the microwave was primitive.
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You are the devil to talk to, Rachel, he said curtly. Will you shut up and listen?
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that was humanity's problem right there. they are brain damaged from the early sun
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Married pixy, I told myself, forcing my eyes back to the shelf of ceramic animals. Fifty-four kids. Beautiful wife, sweet as sugar, who would kill me in my sleep while apologizing for it.
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I never considered I might make a career out of writing as I was going to school, so when I did turn my attentions that way, I was very ill prepared, having only what I read as a guide, and no formal training whatsoever. I credit that very ignorance with a great deal of my success.
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I meant I’m not afraid of love being difficult. If it was easy, then everyone would find it.
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Inside Junior's it was peaceful. I can change that, I thought dryly.
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I told you, computers are like women. If you shout at them or ask them to do too many things at once, they shut down and you won't even get a sniff pg. 4
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Maybe if I didn't say anything about what happened, we could get back to the way we were. Ignoring a problem was a perfectly acceptable way to deal with it, as long as both people agree never to bring it up again.
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Big lots,' I said, seeing the eighty-year-old oaks and shady lawns. The houses were set way back and had iron fences and stone drives. The harder to hear your neighbors scream, my dear,' was David’s answer, and I sent my head up and down in agreement.
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Hey,” the other said, coming to life. “You’re supposed to be in jail.” Al grinned at him, his white-gloved grip tightening on the wooden handle, which was intricately carved in the shape of a naked, writhing woman. Nice. “And your momma wanted you to have a brain,” he said, yanking the door open and slamming it into the guy’s face.
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Rachel, my itchy witch, Al said as he tugged the lace at his cuffs. We've talked about this. You simply must stop collecting nasty little men. How many do you really need, love?
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Typical Kisten said, his eyes dramatically sad. Try to do something nice for a person, cheer her up, and what do I get? Abused and robbed.
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For all his sourness, he was ruled by his heart.
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The car was full of unhappy people heading west. It was the Great American Family Road Trip, all right. Whaaa-hoo!
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Rache,” he said, trying to get into my line of sight. “What more do you need? God to send a telegram? (Jenks)
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I have to save the world tomorrow, and I don't even know what I'm going to wear yet.--Rachel Morgan
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Maybe he thinks he can rescue me? No one is that stupid.
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Al was standing a bare three feet away, his mood almost jovial as he took the paper and it vanished in a wash of black sparkles. “Thank you, Rachel,” he said, carefully reaching for my hand as Trent stiffened. “Welcome back, my itchy witch.
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