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I went to the entrance to the restroom, where the hallway did a sharp bend so nobody could peek into the girls' pee-palace.
Lilith Saintcrow
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Lilith Saintcrow
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
New Mexico
United States
Anna Beguine
Lili St. Crow
Entrance
Went
Girl
Entrances
Palace
Palaces
Peek
Bend
Restroom
Sharp
Hallway
Girls
Hallways
Nobody
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Next to her, even the prettiest djamphir boys looked gawky.
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He hadn't told me everything, but I'd left him for dead. I guess we were just about even...
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I thought I'd pay you a visit, my dear. Since you're so interesting. My mouth shifted into high gear, leaving my brain behind. You know, you're the second guy in a few days to call me that. You should be more creative.
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Oh, dear me. Nathalie sank back down in the chair and examined her Uggs. The sarcasm could've started dripping off her and stained the floor. Is it conspiracy, treachery, murder, or open warfare? I'll have to choose my lipstick accordingly.
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The only one, he murmured. His chin dipped a little bit. You know that, Dru? You're the only person who's ever believed in me. You know what that'll do to a guy? What?I- It makes him want to live up to it.
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His shoulder bumped mine again. Can I ask you something? I didn't answer. He was going to ask me anyway. People don't say that if they don't want to pry something out of you.
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I looked like a ghost. And I should know. I’ve seen a few.
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Are you listening, little bird?
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Zombies smell worse than anything you can imagine if you haven’t been hunting things on the dark side of the world. It’s a ripe, gassy odour, like rotting eggs and meat gone bad, crawling blind with maggots. It’s road kill and decayed food and body odour all rolled into one package and tied up with puke.
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Death did not play favorites—He loved all equally. What you cannot escape, you must fight what you cannot fight, you must endure . The god's voice—not quite words, just a thread of meaning laid in my receptive mind—
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The smell of apple pies didn't quite fill the house, but it was there, a thread under everything else. It was kind of hard to take Christophe seriously when he smelled like baked goods. I wondered if other djampjir smelled like Hostess Twinkies and sniggered to myself.
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The end of a gun looks very big and very back when it's staring you in the face.
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His eyebrows drew together. He was perilously close to unibrow I guess nobody had held him down and administered a good plucking to the caterpillar climbing across his forehead.
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Graves: Are you skipping? Off to a good start. Dru Anderson: I don’t want to deal with it today. Graves: Okay. I know a place to go. You shoot pool? I’m Graves. Dru Anderson: I know. Dru. Graves: Dru. You’re new. Couple of weeks, right? Welcome to Foley.
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You're my friend, Danny. You understand? There's no debt between friends. Maybe it's just that the debt gets so high you stop counting it.
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It wasn't sarcasm. Graves blew out a cloud of acrid smoke. It was pointing out a fallacy in your logic, babe. Anna's jaw actually dropped. For a moment, I wasn't sure if I should laugh or push him out of the room. Way to go, Graves.
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Really, I scolded myself, you should have known that you'd end up in a stone dungeon with no facilities. That's how these things always end up, isn't it?
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Boys always get the best eyelashes it's like some kind of cosmic law. And half-breed kids get some kind of extra help there from genetics, too.
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God, was I going to have another day of painful thoughts jumping me every time I relaxed? The obvious solution—to just not relax—was kind of sucking.
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Better to be strong than pretty and useless.
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