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He wanted that again, that feeling of standing with her against all odds and succeeding. He wanted it so bad, he was going to risk destroying everything he and his father had worked for.

Kim Harrison

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Kim Harrison
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Midwest
Wyoming
Dawn Cook
Father
Succeeding
Feelings
Odds
Destroying
Wanted
Worked
Everything
Standing
Going
Succeed
Risk
Feeling

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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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Listen before you draw your battle lines, lest you alienate your allies.
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Anything worth having is going to be hard
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He didn't want Lucy to grow up feeling alone, surrounded by everything and having nothing.
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What are you? I rasped. It smiled. Whatever scares you.
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Inside Junior's it was peaceful. I can change that, I thought dryly.
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The undead did not love, but they remembered love with a savage loyalty.
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Jenks laughed, taking to the air and saying, “Give it up, FIB man. It’ll take more than you to get her out. Remember what Ivy and I did to your finest last spring? Add Rachel to that, and you can say your prayers.” From behind me came Edden’s dry “You think Ivy wants another stint as a candy striper?
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Okay, you drive, she said. I'll sit with m head hanging out of the window like a golden retriever.
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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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Newt spun, making her robe unfurl. “He’s my familiar, bought and paid for. I can claim anything of his. Even his life.” Al cleared his throat nervously. “That’s good to know,” he said lightly. “Important safety tip. Rachel, write that down somewhere as lesson number one.
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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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Numb, I took the perfectly browned puff. Okay. Let me see if I have this right. Al provokes me into defending myself. I nearly kill him. Then Newt tries to kill me, thinking I'm Ku'Sox. Al stops her, saving my life. And now we're all going to have s'mores together?
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I wish I could say I write 9-5. It's usually more like 8-6, every day but the weekends.
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Maybe I could be friends with a ghost. I wouldn’t be able to kill him.
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I've found that when I'm having trouble solidifying a character or a scene, that music will often free my subconscious just that last little bit to allow me to move forward, and often it's in a direction that I didn't expect, but is 100 percent true to the character.
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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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People ask me what I do in my spare time, and I look at them blankly, truly believing that I don't even have spare time, and if I did, I'd probably use it for something mundane, like chipping away at the mound of laundry rising to dangerous proportions in the back room.
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