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that was humanity's problem right there. they are brain damaged from the early sun

Kim Harrison

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Kim Harrison
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Midwest
Wyoming
Dawn Cook
Brain
Problem
Right
Damaged
Sun
Early
Humanity

More quotes by Kim Harrison

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Come on, Rachel! Jenks shrilled. You're a badass, not a bad witch!
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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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I’d given up on the white picket fence after Kisten had died—finding out my kids would be demons was the nail in the coffin.
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Growing up is hard, love. Otherwise everyone would do it.
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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.
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And while seeing Trent in his tighty-whities would make my decade, I’d found out long ago that I couldn’t stay mad at a man wearing nothing but underwear. They looked so charmingly vulnerable.
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Listen before you draw your battle lines, lest you alienate your allies.
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Together we made our way from the service entrances in back to the front, Jenks shedding clothes and handing them to me to stuff in my bag every few yards. It was terribly distracting, but I managed to avoid running into the Dumpsters and recycling bins.
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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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Actually,” I said, hesitant to bring it up, “I was thinking along the lines of a curse that can turn you human.” “Or witch?” Ivy said, surprising me. There was a soft vulnerability in her and I blinked. “You don’t want to be a witch,” I said quickly. “Why not? You are.
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Relief spilled into me. He wanted to live. He just didn't know how.
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Tinks titties Rache Jenks
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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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Five trolls in a dra-a-a-a-ag,' the four-inch man sang from my shoulder. 'Four purple condoms, three French ticklers, two horny vamps and a succubus in the snow.
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Good God,” I whispered, sitting on the van’s cot and looking at my legs, horrified. They were hairy—not wolf hairy, but an I-couldn’t-find-my-razor-the-last-six-months hairy. Utterly grossed out, I took a peek at my armpit, jerking away. Oh, that’s just…nasty.
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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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And I’m not spying! I’m evaluating!” “It’s the same difference!
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We all watched Al open the door. Turning, he waved to us, then passed the threshold. The door shut behind him. I waited for something to happen. Nothing did. “This isn’t good,” Quen said. I choked back my burst of laughter, knowing it would come out sounding hysterical.
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I'd never seen a man who could outshop me, but Jenks was a master.
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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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