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Shouts of dismay rose as the red flesh splattered against the table. It was only a tomato, but one would think I was pulping a decaying heart by the noise the big, strong FIB officers were making.

Kim Harrison

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Kim Harrison
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Midwest
Wyoming
Dawn Cook
Red
Shouts
Think
Flesh
Tomato
Thinking
Rose
Dismay
Tomatoes
Bigs
Officers
Making
Table
Strong
Noise
Heart
Tables
Decaying
Would

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If he betrays you, I will finish what I started with his fingers, he said, and I shivered. Tell him that.
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Don’t stereotype, Jenks. HAPA is an equal-opportunity hate group,” I said.
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No, you just keep crashing my life. Look— I said, and Al grunted. Here it comes, the demon muttered. Listen. Listen to this, runt. She's going to have a list.
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There were no more choices, no more options, no more clever ways out of a tough situation. And the rush, I realized in a brutal wash of despair, is a false god I’ve chased my entire life. One that cost me everything in the blind search for sensation. My entire existence amounted to nothing.
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How many mistakes can one life survive?
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He froze as the scent of her hair met him. It was touching his cheek,tickling him. I cant afford this, he thought, but he didnt move, watching her finger trace the new line. He cracked my mirror,she said, clearly angry.
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I won’t snatch, harm, or scare to death people with you or use checking up on you as an excuse to cause trouble. You’re worse than my mother, Rachel.” “Mine, too,” Jenks muttered.
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Rachel knew what she was doing. And when she didn't, she could improvise on the fly, coming up with options that left a lot of collateral damage but usually only hurt herself, not the people around her. It was one of the things he would never admit that he admired about her.
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I want…” he said, then hesitated, taking a breath of air and lifting his chin. “I want one pure thing in my life,” he said loudly, his voice ringing in the red-tinted air. “I want one thing I can point to and say, ‘That is good, and it’s a part of me.
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The demon had trouble remembering what she was doing, but she was powerful, sort of the crazy Wendy of the lost lord-of-the-flies boys.
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Do you have a sleeping bag?” I stared at him. “No. I lost it in the great salt-dip of ’06.
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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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she thought I could find a way to save her soul when she died and became an undead. Right now, I was just looking to find the rent money. I’d get to my roommate’s soul later.
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Can we get back to how we’re going to kill Nick? And what’s this about a dead body? You’d better start talking quick, Ivy, ’cause I’m not going to play hide-and-seek with a dead guy in my trunk. I did that in college, and I’m not going to do it again.” A smile quirked Ivy’s mouth. “Really?” she asked, and I flushed.
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I am black,” she said, and a shudder rippled through me. “I am foul with a thousand years of demon curses. Don’t cross me or I will bring you and your house down. Rachel is the only clean thing I have, and you won’t sully her to further your high ideas.
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The small gargoyle had gone entirely white to match the ceiling, and only the rims of his ears, his long clawlike nails, and a thick stripe down his whip-like tail were still gray. He was crawling along the ceiling like a bat, wings held to make sharp angles and claws extended. It just about broke my creepy meter.
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A witch, a vampire, and a pixy walk into a bar, I thought as I led the way into the Squirrel’s End. It was early, and the sun had yet to set when the door swung shut behind Jenks, sealing us in the warm air smelling faintly of smoke. Immediately Nick yanked it open to come in behind us. And there’s the punch line.
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Dead Witch Walking is basically a modern-day witch living in Cincinnati.
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Pierce made a calculating noise, accidentally brushing my knee as he shifted. As Jenks would say, you snore nice. I smiled back unconvincingly. I snore nice. Not I opine that your auditory nasal exhalations are most pleasing.
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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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