Okay, I like him,” I admitted. “But it takes more than a nice body, Jenks. Jeez, I do have a little depth. You’ve got a great body, and you don’t see me trying to get into your Fruit of the Looms.
Ah, Jenks? It’s not a lake, it’s a friggin’ freshwater ocean. Did you see the size of the tanker going under the bridge when we came into town? The wake from it could tip us. I’m not canoeing it unless your name is Pocahontas.
Good God,” I whispered, sitting on the van’s cot and looking at my legs, horrified. They were hairy—not wolf hairy, but an I-couldn’t-find-my-razor-the-last-six-months hairy. Utterly grossed out, I took a peek at my armpit, jerking away. Oh, that’s just…nasty.
Al's red eyes slid past me to Pierce. "Play?" he said, his voice dripping with interest. "Gordian Nathaniel Pierce's quirks are legendary. Why do you think I want the runt so badly? Size truly doesn't matter if you can do what he can." ~ Algaliarept, Black Magic Sanction, Kim Harrison
Can we get back to how we’re going to kill Nick? And what’s this about a dead body? You’d better start talking quick, Ivy, ’cause I’m not going to play hide-and-seek with a dead guy in my trunk. I did that in college, and I’m not going to do it again.” A smile quirked Ivy’s mouth. “Really?” she asked, and I flushed.
So much for playing nice.Tired, I let my eyes shut while they argued, hoping I didn’t die in the interim and make the problem moot. I wasn’t ever going to get my water. Ever.
Married pixy, I told myself, forcing my eyes back to the shelf of ceramic animals. Fifty-four kids. Beautiful wife, sweet as sugar, who would kill me in my sleep while apologizing for it.
My eyes widened at the ball of orange fluff squeezing out from under the counter, blinking and stretching. I looked again, not believing. “It’s a cat,” I said, winning the Pulitzer prize for incredible intellect.
Though no one had been buried here for almost thirty years, the grass was mown by yours truly. I felt a tidy graveyard made a happy graveyard.
Coffee. I could smell coffee. Coffee would make everything better.
You should be dead," he said, his voice full of wonder. "How is it that you're still alive?" Jaw clenched, I worked at his grip on me, trying to get my fingers between him and my wrist. "I work hard at it.
I jerked to a stop at the door to my room. "What's wrong with my boots?" I said, thinking they were the only thing that I was going to keep on. Ah…the only thing from this outfit, not the only thing total.
I thought it odd that the woman was over a thousand years old but thought the microwave was primitive.
It’s a cat. Boy, you couldn’t slip anything past me tonight.
My God", he whispered. What have I done to her? He thought, humbled. The spell was broken, but it wasn't sealed, and her soul was bare to him, the scars of her tragic past and her triumphs over pain and her aching need to find her place. He just wanted to hold her to him and tell her it would be okay, that she had survived and was beautiful.
He just wanted to hold her to him and tell her it would be okay, that she had survived and was beautiful.
The undead did not love, but they remembered love with a savage loyalty.
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