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Asil has appointed himself my guardian? asked Charles softly. Asil was overstepping himself. He was bored, he told me, said his father. He gave Charles a small smile. I have given him a job so he doesn’t get bored again.

Patricia Briggs

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Patricia Briggs
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: February 28
Novelist
Writer
Butte
Montana
Small
Softly
Jobs
Charles
Father
Guardian
Given
Bored
Doesn
Smile
Gave
Asked
Overstepping
Told
Appointed

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He loved her beyond all reason and didn't expect her to love him back. He was just waiting for her to wise up.
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People will do amazing things to ensure their survival.
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Samuel laughed out loud. You still haven't figured it out, have you, Mercy? He never was mad about the car. He was the first one at the scene of the accident. He thought you'd killed yourself. We all did. That was a pretty spectacular wreck.
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Read good books. Read bad books - and figure out why you don't like them. Then don't do it when you write. If you are a science fiction or fantasy writer, going to conventions and attending panels is very useful.
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I was in the middle of a dream about garbage cans and frogs - don't ask, and I won't tell.
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Truth is without flourishes or manners and runs with a logic all its own.
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My will broke at the sound of his voice, and my head turned with as much inevitability as a sunflower turning its face to the sun.
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It is hard to accept being different, hard to have people avoid looking at you, and still believe in yourself.
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The Elders were closer to the Maker of All Things and should be deferred to whenever they made their will known.
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I think that I can count on the fingers of one hand the times you've actually said the word ‘women' and not replaced it with an epithet referring to female genitalia. Hey, he's not that bad, Warren said. Sometimes he calls them cows or whores.
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Warren made a noise, the first one I'd heard out of him since we'd come into the room. I'd have been happier if he hadn't sounded scared. Easy, Warren, Adam told him. You're safe here.” If you die on us, you won't be, said Kyle with a growl that would have done credit to any of the werewolves in the room.
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Adam didn't approve of Wal-Mart.
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When I put magic into a book - whether it's a wizard or a crusty old werewolf - I'm asking a reader to swallow a huge leap that is counter to everything he or she knows. An extra big helping of reality makes that leap go down a lot easier.
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Even after all this time, I keep forgetting that heroes can be found in unlikely places and persons -- like mechanics who can turn into coyotes.
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Mercy?” “Just a minute,” I told Adam. “I'm in the middle of a revelation.
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I thought you were dead. Stupid. As if I'd die without taking you with me.
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Is it like a Harry Potter thing? He turned his head then. A what? A Harry Potter thing, she said again. You know, don't say Voldemort's name because you might attract his attention? He considered it. You mean the children's book. I have got to get you to watch more movies, she said. You'd enjoy these. Yes, I mean the childr
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My mother was a children's librarian. I remember when traditional stories were revised for modern audiences until they bore only a nodding acquaintance with the originals, but were released as 'authentic Indian stories' when they were, in fact, nothing of the kind.
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She crawled on top of him, naked and warm and soft, smelling like a miracle that had saved him from a lifetime of aloneness.
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I am not attempting to preserve culture, or record actual events or stories. Instead I bow my head in gratitude to those storytellers who have gone before and paved a way for me play in their stomping grounds. Doubtless those who want to be offended, will - allowing me to make them happy, too, which pleases me as much as it pleases them.
Patricia Briggs