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Riley : Do you want to claw at me, kitty-cat? Come on. Mercy: Sorry, I don't beat defenseless puppies.

Nalini Singh

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Nalini Singh
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: February 17
Author
Journalist
Writer
Riley
Mercy
Beats
Kitty
Sorry
Kitties
Come
Defenseless
Claws
Puppy
Puppies
Cat
Claw
Beat

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Sentinel meeting tonight,” Ria told her. “At Lucas's place.” “Time?” ... “Seven. Sascha's doing dinner.” “God save us all.” Sascha had decided she liked cooking. Unfortunately, cooking didn't like her back.
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Love is the greatest form of loyalty, one that places happiness of the beloved over the lover.
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Take her to the kitchen,” came the order. “If she lies, throw her in the cauldron. “He was jesting about the cauldron, wasn’t he? You cannot have a cauldron big enough for a person?” Bard halted, sighed, looked at her with those wide, liquid eyes.“We,” he said, “have knives.
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How long have you been with Raphael?” “You ask a lot of questions for a dead woman.” “What can I say? I prefer to die well-informed.” -Venom and Elena
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Why are you sad, Dorian? He couldn't lie to her. The leopard wants you to see it.
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She blew out a breath between gritted teeth. “Sometimes I really want to”—a frustrated sound—“bite you!” He froze. “I might let you.” “I won’t do it if you’d enjoy it.
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Once, he hadn't been able to touch her without causing himself pain. Now, it only hurt when he didn't touch her.
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Your name is written on my heart, Lily
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This was the kind of job that made legends out of hunters. Of course, to be a legend, you generally had to be dead.
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All right. Shimmering droplets on her eyelashes, stars caught in transition. But will you replace it with something for me? Anything. His body was hers. Brushing her fingers over his lips, she said, You gave me an eagle. I want to give you one, too. A tender kiss pressed to the scar. I want us to fly together.
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... because he was going to marry her. “It is customary to ask,” she now said as she turned to watch him button up a black shirt over that chest she’d licked and sucked and kissed not long ago. “Why?” He shrugged. “I’m not giving you a choice.
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Some things were worth the dance with danger.
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You’ll have to be my conscience.” He knew his flaws, and he knew the parts of him that were irrevocably broken. “Mine isn’t going to grow back.
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He wanted to give me a blade? What's wrong with that?” “Blades,” he whispered, “and sheaths go together. And your sheath will only ever hold my blade.
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Push me and I will. I’ll get punished, but you’ll still be dead.
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He hugged her again, before she could put some distance between them. Then the most sneaky wolf in the den lowered his voice and whispered, “But you’ve got an advantage, sweetheart. You’re already in his head. And you know how to mess with it.
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For the first time in forever, he was stunned to silence. Not by her words, but by the tenderness in her hands, the worry in her eyes. He was an archangel. He’d been wounded far, far worse and shrugged it off. But then, there had been no woman with sun kissed by the sunset and eyes of storm gray to tear into him for daring to get himself hurt.
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To fight is to face death once more, perhaps the total annihilation of their kind. But to run... is that not also a kind of annihilation?
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You have the power to tear me to pieces, to wound me so deep and true that I‘ll never recover.
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An hour of your life is worth more than a thousand people to me.
Nalini Singh