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Happy endings were never handed out. You had to fight for them, earn them with bruised hearts and sacrifices.

Kim Harrison

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Kim Harrison
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Midwest
Wyoming
Dawn Cook
Heart
Sacrifices
Never
Handed
Earn
Hearts
Sacrifice
Fight
Fighting
Bruised
Happy
Endings

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I'll wait for you under the bluebells. I'll be there always.
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Rachel, my itchy witch, Al said as he tugged the lace at his cuffs. We've talked about this. You simply must stop collecting nasty little men. How many do you really need, love?
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Elves apparently had a short childhood. Not like witches, who seemed to take forever to grow up, according to Jenks.
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Just because I don't wear my heart on my sleeve - You don't even wear your heart in your chest.
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I’m not going anywhere with you, you little shoemaker,” I said (Rachel to Trent)
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Looking at everything, I started to feel nauseous, as if the seventies had taken refuge here against extinction and were preparing to take over the world.
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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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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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It was a nice bit of blackmail that kept him off my back, but he refused to take the message that I wasn’t going to work for him. ’Course, that might be my fault…since I seemed unable to say no when he waved enough money at me.
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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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Married pixy, I told myself, forcing my eyes back to the shelf of ceramic animals. Fifty-four kids. Beautiful wife, sweet as sugar, who would kill me in my sleep while apologizing for it.
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Jenks made a move to follow, probably forgetting he didn’t have wings anymore. He leaned forward and fell to the floor, face first. “Jenks!” I shouted when he hit with a dull smack and started swearing.
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You cannot thrash the person who makes you coffee. It's a rule somewhere.
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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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Gaily, if you can't demonstrate the ability to keep her alive, then I will take over her care and get you a dog instead. - Newt
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Join us next time for Days of the Undead when Rachel learns her long lost brother is really a crown prince from outer space.
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I'll always be here, he said softly. You can never fill my need, never drive me away, no matter how much you give me. The good or the bad. I'll always be hungry for emotion, always and forever, and I can feel you hurting. I can turn it to joy. If you'll let me.
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His right ear still held both studs, and I wondered who had the missing earring. I would have asked, but was afraid he’d tell me Ivy had it.
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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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Listen before you draw your battle lines, lest you alienate your allies.
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