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Truth was a tool. It should never simply be said. No, it had to be bent, twisted, colored, until it became a weapon.
Nalini Singh
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Nalini Singh
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: February 17
Author
Journalist
Writer
Tool
Tools
Became
Weapons
Simply
Colored
Truth
Twisted
Never
Bent
Weapon
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I need a Stetson, so I can ride you like a cowgirl - Mercy to Riley
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Life changes us. To wish otherwise is pointless.
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They didn't understand that she held his heart, held it so utterly that there was nothing he wouldn't do, no line he wouldn't cross to keep her safe.
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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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As her skin sizzled under the delicious heat, she supposed she should’ve been giving serious thought to the lunacy of what she was doing playing with a vampire, who was, for all his charm, as lethal as a stiletto across the throat. But then again, most of her friends already thought she was half a nut short of a fruitcake. Why disappoint?
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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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Human women have been slapping men for being bastards for centuries. You were doing what comes naturally.
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Where did you learn your charm—the gulag?
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As an example of wealth, good taste, and subtle intimidation, it took first prize.
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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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Come make me sticky. Dimitri to Honor
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Once, he'd used it in song, but the songs in his heart had gone silent long ago, and he knew that one day so would his voice. A man with nothing inside him eventually had nothing to say.
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Only ignorance excuses stupidity
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His gentleness twined another tendril around her heart, until she was so entangled in him, she knew she’d never break free. For the first time in her life, her wolf had chosen. And it had chosen this lone wolf. “You have me,” she whispered. All of me.
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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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Oh my God! I'm crushing an angel. Let me up!
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