Quote

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.

Kim Harrison

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Kim Harrison
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Midwest
Wyoming
Dawn Cook
Like
Away
Rising
Mound
People
Back
Truly
Proportions
Look
Room
Laundry
Looks
Rooms
Spare
Even
Dangerous
Mundane
Something
Probably
Spares
Believe
Asks
Believing
Blankly
Time
Use
Proportion
Chipping

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Get your hand off me,” I exclaimed, voice loud with misplaced anger as I yanked away from his grip. “I’m a professional, not some distraught girlfriend.” Well, I was that too, but I knew how to act at a crime scene.
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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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How many mistakes can one life survive?
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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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He didn't want Lucy to grow up feeling alone, surrounded by everything and having nothing.
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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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God, if you ever loved me, open my eyes for me when I'm being this stupid! (Ron)
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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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I’m your worst nightmare come to walk this side of the lines. I’m an elf, Trent something you’re forgotten how to be. You’re scared of black magic. I can see fear shimmering under your aura like sweat. I live and breathe black magic. I’m so tainted with it that I will use it without thought, without guilt and without hesitation.
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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.
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My God, he whispered. What have I done to her? He thought, humbled. The spell was broken, but it wasn't sealed, and her soul was bare to him, the scars of her tragic past and her triumphs over pain and her aching need to find her place. 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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But he's Rachel Candy! -Both Jenks and Al
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The undead did not love, but they remembered love with a savage loyalty.
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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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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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His eyes met mine at the soft touch, and a chime seemed to shake the ley line, realigning the universe. He was mine.
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A devious spark lit through Al, making me smile. One way. It costs too much, he said. “There’s no inflation in the ever-after, Al.” Call it a recession then. One way.
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But a slow, deeply satisfied smile came over him, and his breath quickened. 'So softly it starts,' he whispered. 'Foolishly clever and with an unsurvivable trust. It just saved your miserable life, that questionable show of thought, my itchy-witch.' Al’s smile shifted, becoming lighter. 'And now you will live to possibly regret it.
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Plan B?' Ivy said. 'What is plan B?' Jenks reddened. 'Grab the fish and run like hell,' he muttered, and I almost giggled.
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Come on, Rachel! Jenks shrilled. You're a badass, not a bad witch!
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