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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
Hear
Coyotes
Didn
Satan
Care
Son
Would
Kill
Men
Walking
Laughing
Dead
Bits
Coyote

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I like to have a hero a little underpowered. I mean, Spiderman is far cooler than Superman. How do you challenge Superman?
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I liked Lost in Space,” Stefan said. “The movie or the TV series?” “The movie? Right. I had forgotten about the movie,” he said soberly. “It was better that way.
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She wondered that hope was so much harder then despair.
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Over the years, she'd learned not to question him to closely—mostly because he wouldn't answer her.
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Honey, ... When a wolf watches a lamb, he's not thinking about the lamb's mommy.
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Paranoia: the gift of the survivor and the burden of the overtired, stressed, and terrified.
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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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Never trust a mechanic who drives new cars. They're either charging too much money for their work, or they can't keep an old car running - maybe both.
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Survivors can't always choose their methods.
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I would slay dragons for you,” he told her. “I suspect that finding an unoccupied bedroom will be easier.
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You cannot sacrifice the world for your children.
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Love thy enemies, it says in the scriptures. My foster mother always added, At the very least, you will be polite to them.
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Let's save tomorrow's troubles for tomorrow.
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Don't make light of any man's pain.
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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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Moonlight streamed in, sending loving beams over his face. He closed his eyes and basked in it, and I could tell it was calling to him, even though the moon was not full. She didn't speak to me, but Samuel had once described her song to me in the words of a poet. The expression of bliss on his face while he listened to her music made him beautiful.
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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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Don’t lick the guests, darling. Bad manners.
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I don't like it when I outweigh my men.
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