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Good Lord, I thought, squinting at the bright glare of a late-July morning. No wonder I slept through this. It was noisy with shrieking birds, and already hot.
Kim Harrison
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Kim Harrison
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Midwest
Wyoming
Dawn Cook
Lord
Birds
Thought
Bright
Good
Hot
Squinting
Bird
Shrieking
Late
Glare
Already
Slept
Wonder
Noisy
Morning
July
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How many mistakes can one life survive?
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Adjustment? She called that an adjustment? How about I adjust her right out of existence?
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I suddenly realized that a bunch of my friends needed babysitters and vowed to start screening my calls.
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Relief spilled into me. He wanted to live. He just didn't know how.
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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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It’s a cat. Boy, you couldn’t slip anything past me tonight.
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I didn’t know what I was going to say, a feeling that was compounded when the line clicked open and Trent’s very muzzy voice murmured, “Rachel? Mmm, hi.
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Okay, I like him,” I admitted. “But it takes more than a nice body, Jenks. Jeez, I do have a little depth. You’ve got a great body, and you don’t see me trying to get into your Fruit of the Looms.
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Don’t stereotype, Jenks. HAPA is an equal-opportunity hate group,” I said.
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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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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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...Everyone had to eat, but eating people wasn't polite.
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Go to sleep, baby,Mama will sing. Of blue butterflies, and dragonfly wings. Moonlight and sunbeams, raiments so fine. Silver and gold, for baby of mine. Go to sleep, baby. Sister will tell, of wolves and of lambs, and demons who fell.-Pierce's Lullaby Kim Harrison (Black Magic Sanction)
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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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I sighed. I hated the maze of bureaucracy with a passion, but I've found the best way to deal with it is to smile and act stupid. That way, no one gets confused.
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I felt sick. Buying Kisten’s and my safety from Piscary was so wrong. But it was either that or deal with a demon, and I’d rather keep my soul clean and let my morals get dingy.
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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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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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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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