Quotes from Karen Marie Moning

Each time I say, Thank you, I'm telling him he's my sun, moon, and stars. And each time Barrons replies, Always. Mac, I know what it means. His "always" is a pledge of love, a promise eternal, and a guarantee that while we may never live happily ever after for very long, we will live. Together. Vibrantly and passionately. Fire to his ice. Ice to my fever.

I feel like I'm stuck in an IFCF." I raised a brow. "Interdimensional Fairy Cluster Fuck," she said sourly.

Unpredictable, high-tempered, happy on her own, and nearly untamable, she was a challenge to seduce. It hadn't helped that he was broody, arrogant, selfish, and a god. She didn't want a soul mate, she told him. And she certainly didn't want one with wings and an attitude problem.

Oh, drop the act, Tinkerbell, and get rid of my problem. Then we'll talk.

There was a sudden commotion in front of us. The Seelie had just sifted in, minus V'Lane, in close proximity to Ryodan, Lor, and Fade. I wasn't sure who was more disgusted. Or homicidal. Velvet hissed. "You have no right to be here!" "Kill it." Ryodan said flatly. "Don't you dare!" I heard Jo snap. "Fucking faeries," Lor muttered.

And now she was just Gabby, currently staying in a dreamy, magnificent castle in Scotland with a Fae prince who did all kinds of non-nasty, non-inhuman things like tearing up lists of names, and returning tadpoles to lakes, and saving people's lives. Not to mention kissing with all the otherwordly splendor of a horny angel.

Abruptly, she knew that after this night she was never going to be the same again. Nothing was ever going to be the same. Oh, yes, the man could define himself as the dawning of an epoch if he wanted to. There was, quite simply, before Adam and after Adam.

I want purple trews, lass," Drustan called over the door. "No," she said irritably. "And a purple shirt.

But he didn't need to seek visual confirmation of what he'd just heard to know she had. And the truth was, he couldn't blame her. He'd not have let her die, either. He'd have moved mountains. He'd have battled God or Devil for his wife's life. She'd betrayed him. He smiled faintly.

She glanced rapidly between them, blinking and hoping her double vision would go away. They were glaring at each other. Would they fight? If she saw her own double she probably be tempted to punch it once or twice. Especially today. For being so stupid.

It's not my fault who I am. The only think that's my fault is what I choose to do

Do I love him? Yes. Is he perfect? No. Am I? No. Will I leave him? No. Okay, that's resolved. Time for a nap.

I swear," she babbled hastily, "I won't tell a soul. I don't care. It's okay with me if you have them. I have absolutely no desire to go to the police or anything like that. I don't even like the police. Police and me have never gotten along. They gave me a ticket once for going forty-five in a forty-five zone; how could I possibly like them after that?" ~Chloe to Dageus

We are not perfect. What god is Examine yours. According to your mythos he was so disappointed with his initial efforts creating your race that he tried again. At least we imprisoned our mistakes. Your god permits his to roam free. At a mere few thousand years old your creation myths are far more absurd than ours.

Brutality is the refuge of the dull of mind, ka-lyrra . Only a fool conquers when he might instead seduce. ~Adam Black to Gabrielle O'Callaghan

Any man who reads is a fine one.

Oh, for heavens sake, she thought with droll exasperation, this certainly explains a lot. It's no wonder I haven't been able to keep my hands off the blasted man since the day I met him. He's an artifact! A Celtic one at that! "Well, that's one way of thinking of me, lass," Dageus purred, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Tell me I didn't just say that aloud!" Chloe was horrified. Silvan cleared his throat. "You did. He's an artifact.

There are no coincidences in this world... You must see with the eagle's eye. You must detach, lift above a conundrum, and map the terrain of it. Everything happens for a reason, if you can but discern the pattern.

It's our actions that define us. What we choose. What we resist. What we're willing to die for.

I had a sudden dismal view of my future, of being led around and asked incessantly, like one of those Verizon commercials, Do you feel sick now?

Do you think love just goes away? Pops out of existence when it becomes too painful or inconvenient, as if you never felt it?

Werewolves? Oh please, just plain stupid. Who wants to get it on with a man ruled by his inner dog?

His coworker was velvety-skinned, a sexy boy-on-the-cusp-of man.

I'll give you until nine P.M. tomorrow to get the bloody hell out of this country and out of my way. The nerve. I'd had to bite my tongue on the juvenile impulse to snap, Or what?—you're not the boss of me, second only to an even more juvenile impulse to call my mom and wail, Nobody likes me here and I don't even know why!