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He frowns. A dance with the carnivorous Felicity? Why? Has she eaten all the other available gentlemen?

Libba Bray

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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Carnivorous
Frowns
Felicity
Gentlemen
Eaten
Gentleman
Available
Dance

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Jericho lay back down on his side, watching her breathe just an arm's length from him. She was not beautiful while she slept her mouth hung open and she snored very lightly, and this, despite everything that had happened, made him smile.
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I hate high heels. Walking in high heels for eight hours a day should be forbidden by the Geneva Convention.
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I wish to live for myself. I should never want to be trapped.
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Life don’t come to you, Memphis. You gotta take it. We have to take it. Because ain’t nobody handing it to us.
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We have traveled through space and time. We have been many places. Visited many worlds. And there is good news: the acoustics everywhere are terrific.
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People aren't always what you want them to be
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A place to keep all your secrets
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When you looked up to the sky and cried 'Why?' sometimes the sky shrugged, yet other times it answered with warm assurance of linked hands.
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Did they find something wanting in you, Gemma, at the party? You didn’t speak too freely or behave…strangely?” I grew claws and bayed at the moon. I confessed that I eat the hearts of small children. I told them I like the French.
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Live life as if today is your last day living. :-)
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One can never go back. One always has to move forward.
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Things aren't good or bad in and of themselves. It's what we do with them that makes them so.
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If there was one truth Evie had learned in her short life, it was that forgiveness was easier to seek than permission. She didn’t plan to ask for either one.
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Naughty John, Naughty John, does his work with his apron on. Cuts your throat and takes your bones, sells 'em off for a coupla stones.
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We create the illusions we need to go on.
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No one can live in the light all the time.
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I've been poked and prodded in places I'd always prided myself on keeping untouched for that one special doctor who gives me a ring and a promise someday.
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Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know they've fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they don't know when or how the change took place.
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War. Gorgon spits the word. That is what they call it to give the illusion of honor and law. It is chaos. Madness and blood and the hunger to win. It has always been thus and shall always be so.
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The mere suggestion of fame and fortune casts a glamour all its own. It is rather alarming how quickly people will turn someone else's fiction into fact in order to support their own fictions of themselves.
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