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Faeries are equally loyal and deceitful.

Melissa Marr

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Melissa Marr
Age: 52
Born: 1972
Born: July 25
Author
Fantasy Author
Novelist
Teacher
Writer
Pennsylvania
United States
M. A. Marr
Melissa A Marr
Equally
Faeries
Faerie
Deceitful
Loyal

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She turned so they were face-to-face and gave him back the words he'd offered her their first night together: I survived. Isn't that what matters?
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And he smiled at her, truely smiled- wicked and lovely.
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In the end mortals always expired before faeries. They were such finite creatures. Their first heartbeat and breath were but a blink from death. To add the weight of nourishing his insatiable court in a time of peace was to hasten that unconscionably.
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She was afraid, but she couldn't just sit around waiting for someone to save her. She had to try to save herself, try to figure it out.
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Everything I could want in eternity is possible because of you, he thought, and then he stopped thinking and simply enjoyed being in the arms of the one person in all of forever who made his life complete.
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Seth: You're what matters Ash: Hold me? If you still want to, I mean. Seth: Every day, I want to hold you every day. Nothing will ever change that.
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Chase away sorrow by living
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A clear division between good and evil, right and wrong, would simplify everything, but life was rarely simple.
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-You won't like me if I'm cruel. -I don't like you now. -We don't lie. -I'm mortal, Irial. I can lie all I want to.
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I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” he whispered. “Lucky them.
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Maybe the girl would get strong enough to withstand an ink exchange with one of the chosen faeries. If not, he could always give her to one of the weaker fey. It seemed a shame to waste a lovely broken toy.
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Life is too short to read books that I'm not enjoying.
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She stepped closer to one of the statues. It looked wide-eyed, almost afraid as she reached out her hand. One of the women reached out and snatched Aislinn's still uplifted hand. No. The women spoke all at once, not to her or to Keenan, but softly-as if to themselves-in a sibilant whisper. He's ours. Fair exchange. Not yours to interfere.
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But you didn't need me, did you? You'd already got yourself to safety. Sometimes, I sleep better knowing you . . . and Niall . . . She faltered. Love you from a safe distance, he finished. Yes.
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...Bananach sits on your throne, has declared herself Dark Queen. She WHAT!? Niall- or perhaps Irial-asked.
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You need to face what you're running from
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Some mortals--like you--are already half in love with death. It is who you are, and I'll not make it harder on you by telling you things you don't need to know. Ask me again when you die. Then I'll tell you everything, anything, nothing.
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You're not weak at all. Wounded, but that's nothing to be ashamed of.
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