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I could hear him laughing. Son of a bit*h. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was coyote or the son of Satan.He was a dead man walking.

Patricia Briggs

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Patricia Briggs
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: February 28
Novelist
Writer
Butte
Montana
Men
Walking
Laughing
Dead
Bits
Coyote
Hear
Coyotes
Didn
Satan
Care
Son
Would
Kill

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Don’t lick the guests, darling. Bad manners.
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I'm not threatening to kill myself. But you need to know this about me because—if you want to be my mate—I won't be like Leo. I won't let you sleep around with anyone else. I won't be forced either. I've had enough. If that makes me a dog in the manger, so be it. But if I am yours, then you damned well are going to be mine. - Anna to Charles
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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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A man learns with age, if he is lucky.
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Do they always flirt with biblical quotes? Asil asked Tad. In long-suffering tones, Tad said, They can flirt with the periodic table or a restaurant menu. We've learned to live with it. Get a room you guys.
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To make great art, you had to expose your soul, and some things should be left safely in the dark.
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I don't like it when I outweigh my men.
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The cool thing about writing is that there is really never a typical day. Sometimes I get a rhythm going and head off to work every morning and come home at night. Sometimes I'll write for two days straight and then be utterly blank for the next two.
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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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Some truths are truths, no matter who says them.
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Things change whether you want them to, or not--unless you are dead. Don't hold so hard to the past that you die with it.
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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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Zealots are like one track-pony. Don't get in their way without expecting to get hurt.
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Reincarnation?” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen any evidence that it’s real. But I’ve never seen anything that disproves it either. I believe the afterlife is better than what we have here—and it would take something extraordinary to make someone willing to come back.
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I like what you've done to your face, Ben said, tapping his eye.
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Cheeses crusty, got all musty, got damp on the stone of a peach,” I agreed. He looked blank, so I repeated it with proper emphasis. “ ChEEZ-zes crusty. Got Al -musty. Got DAMp on the StoneofapeaCH.
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