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So you're a dom, huh? Nice. I stabbed my pancakes again. Kinky. You're the one who ties people up, babe.

Lilith Saintcrow

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Lilith Saintcrow
Age: 49
Born: 1976
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
New Mexico
United States
Anna Beguine
Lili St. Crow
Ties
Nice
People
Doms
Stabbed
Kinky
Pancakes
Babe

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Touch me again, and it will be your last act in life - Blue Eyes.
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What you can't run away from, you have to face
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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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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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I wondered what I’d end up looking like once I bloomed. I couldn’t even guess. If I had to be stuck in my own skinny, gawky, coltish body forever… well. It probably wouldn’t be so bad. I wouldn’t mind a little more in the chest, though. But wild horses wouldn’t drag that out of me. Ever.
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most of us, as we undergo the growing up process, do not get what we want or even what we should. We get what we have, and no more, and we find out how to make what we have work for us.
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What you cannot escape, you must fight what you cannot fight, you must endure.
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Oh God, Oh God we’re all gonna die doesn’t really fit the definition of banter, now does it?
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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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Graves: It’s going to snow. Dru Anderson: Thanks for the warning. Graves: Hey, no problem. First one’s free.
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I sensed him leaning forward. It's weird to feel someone's attention on you that way, like you're the only thing in the world they're listening to. Most of the time people are distracted, or just thinking about what they're going to say next.
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I'd kind of expected that kids who knew about the Real World wouldn't act like jock dipwads. Guess I was wrong.
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And you know, I believed him. What girl wouldn't?
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And ordering me around is exactly the wrong way to make me do what you want.
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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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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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Come take a look at one of the oldest human urges- religion. After all, the only thing that makes us screwier is sex.
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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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He hadn't told me everything, but I'd left him for dead. I guess we were just about even...
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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.
Lilith Saintcrow