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and good doesn't mean he's worthy of you , does it ?

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
Good
Worthy
Doesn
Doe
Mean

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I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” he whispered. “Lucky them.
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I'd stop anyone from taking that smile from you. I would, if I were allowed.
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And he smiled at her, truely smiled- wicked and lovely.
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Not 'Don' in that I-m-sorry-and-now-you'll-forgive-me-like-you-always-do-way. Not this time, Keenan. (Donya)
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They've been stealing mortals away for centuries, but they can't have you.
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I don't know if you realize it or not, but your sudden devotion to her is creepy.
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Life is too short to read books that I'm not enjoying.
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He looked good, like sin in a suit.
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How was I to know? ... You didn't say anything.I said lots of things, he corrected gently. You just didn't hear them.
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That's what the court needs-a happy king, a king who can't stop dreaming of being lost in someone who wants to be just as lost. Tell me you'll let me get lost in you.
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I eventually realized that good things wouldnt happen to me if I didnt make the right choices.
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to not act is a choice too
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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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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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You are my queen. I’ve spent nine centuries seeking the mortal who would free this court, who would save my best friend’s son, who would save the lives of the rest of the girls who were not you. I’d die before I’d allow harm to you.” He bowed his head.
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Writing is not just the technical act of your fingers on the keyboard. Writing is living.
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I still dream that it was you. No matter how many times I've looked, in my dreams it's always been you who were meant to be my queen.
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Will you be my forever, Donia?
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Sleep well, and stay where I put you.
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Faeries are equally loyal and deceitful.
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