Quotes About Author

No tengo razones y no lo sigo. No tengo razones para nada. Tú eres el que tiene razones.

It always puzzled him, when he was a child, that a woman who wrote books for a living should be so bad at telling bedtime stories.

At what age , he wonders, did Origen castrate himself? Not the most graceful solution, but then ageing is not a graceful bussines.

As the old Russian joke goes, capitalism was the exploitation of man by man, whereas communism was the reverse.

To fathom hell or soar angelic/Just take a pinch of psychedelic.

If it makes it any easier, this author can assure you that there will be no other appearances in this story by giant invisible rabbit spirits.

Anti-intellectualism has spawned an irrelevant gospel. Today, we share the gospel primarily as a means of addressing felt needs.

The proper thing to do is to admit that hell is real and to allow our feelings of discomfort to motivate us to action.

Perfect date material, she thought. A vampire with the social equivalent of road rage. ---Beth about Wrath

Oh, the humanity.... It was a wonder Rhage hadn't blinded himself with all that pop culture.

I don't do farm animals. Can't stand hay in your leathers? Or wool in my teeth.

Mary frowned. A vampire doctor. Talk about exploring your alternative therapies.

Then again, the urge to commit matricide was stressful as shit-when you couldn't act on it.

His blush was the color of Valentine's Day and she had to tell her heart to calm the fuck down as it started to beat fast.

I ejaculated about ten minutes ago and the stuff was black. So everything is not normal. Silence greeted that happy little announcement. Man, if he had hauled off and sucker-punched V, he would have gotten less of a shocked-out reaction.

That scent she threw off was not anything by Chanel. Unless they'd recently added a Tragedy line.

John? As it was dark he whistled a what. You are such a male of worth, you know that. You really are.

She was pretty sure that if she had been, though, none of the hypotheticals would have resembled this in the slightest: surrounded by vampires, possibly pregnant, with a fallen angel in an Elvis costume mangling the ceremony from the Book of Common Prayer.

She was seriously staring. Which was what you did when you got a gander at a man who is hung like a Louisville Slugger.

Vishous, could you stop grinning like that? You're beginning to freak me out.

You know you were with the lessers, true? Butch lifted one of his busted-up hands. And here I thought I'd been to Elizabeth Arden.

You're so damned superior," she muttered. "I'm the son of a fucking deity. You want me to be average?

With a face that was both aristocratic and brutal, he looked like the king he was by birthright and the soldier he'd become by destiny.

When he frowned again, she was fairly sure that the nomenclature did not please him, and she found herself wishing she had been birthed to other syllables.