Excerpt Quotes

“The mind-is not the heart.
I may yet live, as I know others live,
To wish in vain to let go with the mind-
Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me
That I need learn to let go with the heart.”
― Robert Frost

“I am destroying myself so other people can’t," she said, "and it’s the worst kind of control but it’s the only form I know.”
― Sue Zhao

“When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in bad condition in the particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is "So it goes.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

“Jack took two steps towards the couch and then heard his daughter’s distressed wails, wincing. “Oh, right. The munchkin.”

He instead turned and headed for the stairs, yawning and scratching his messy brown hair, calling out, “Hang on, chubby monkey, Daddy’s coming.”

Jack reached the top of the stairs.

And stopped dead.

There was a dragon standing in the darkened hallway.

At first, Jack swore he was still asleep. He had to be. He couldn’t possibly be seeing correctly.

And yet the icy fear slipping down his spine said differently.

The dragon stood at roughly five feet tall once its head rose upon sighting Jack at the other end of the hallway. It was lean and had dirty brown scales with an off-white belly. Its black, hooked claws kneaded the carpet as its yellow eyes stared out at Jack, its pupils dilating to drink him in from head to toe. Its wings rustled along its back on either side of the sharp spines protruding down its body to the thin, whip-like tail. A single horn glinted sharp and deadly under the small, motion-activated hallway light.

The only thing more noticeable than that were the many long, jagged scars scored across the creature’s stomach, limbs, and neck. It had been hunted recently. Judging from the depth and extent of the scars, it had certainly killed a hunter or two to have survived with so many marks.

“Okay,” Jack whispered hoarsely. “Five bucks says you’re not the Easter Bunny.”

The dragon’s nostrils flared. It adjusted its body, feet apart, lips sliding away from sharp, gleaming white teeth in a warning hiss. Mercifully, Naila had quieted and no longer drew the creature’s attention. Jack swallowed hard and held out one hand, bending slightly so his six-foot-two-inch frame was less threatening. “Look at me, buddy. Just keep looking at me. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you. Why don’t you just come this way, huh?”

He took a single step down and the creature crept forward towards him, hissing louder. “That’s right. This way. Come on.”

Jack eased backwards one stair at a time. The dragon let out a warning bark and followed him, its saliva leaving damp patches on the cream-colored carpet. Along the way, Jack had slipped his phone out of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1, hoping he had just enough seconds left in the reptile’s waning patience.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Listen to me carefully,” Jack said, not letting his eyes stray from the dragon as he fumbled behind him for the handle to the sliding glass door. He then quickly gave her his address before continuing. “There is an Appalachian forest dragon in my house. Get someone over here as fast as you can.”

“We’re contacting a retrieval team now, sir. Please stay calm and try not to make any loud noises or sudden movements–“

Jack had one barefoot on the cool stone of his patio when his daughter Naila cried for him again.

The dragon’s head turned towards the direction of upstairs.

Jack dropped his cell phone, grabbed a patio chair, and slammed it down on top of the dragon’s head as hard as he could.”
― Kyoko M., Of Fury & Fangs

“Finally, he opened his eyes, and they
grew wide.
In front of him was the machine, and
beside it, knelt Wild, smirking as he tinkered
with something in his hands.
He was in the park in front of his
home. He’d know it anywhere.
They were back to where it all began.”
― Maheen Salman Ahmad, To Where It All Began: Where There is Family, There is Hope

“You'll be the first human to see an entire alien civilization. The bad news being that you won't be able to actually do anything or speak with anyone. You'll just be ignored and alone, like a headache—something to be pushed aside and forgotten.”
― Tom Deaderick

“Wearing an alien form inside the alien flightsuit, Leo stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon and marveled, slowly shaking his head in disbelief and wonder. He stared into the impossible without considering the miracle of his own existence, like everyone else.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightpack

“First thing Falvo said after he slapped my arm was, 'What time is it?' I've been with a few other people who wake up after getting shot and being dug around in for a slug. That's the first time anyone ever asked that particular question, like they had something important to attend to and happened to get shot on the way.”
― Tom Deaderick, Lifeflash

“Just driving around looking for him is not going to help. We might as well go back and wait on the porch for news as drive around. You're only going to see yards that're neglected and filled with old cars out there. They could kidnap an elephant from the zoo and be dressed like circus clowns with it in the basement and you'd drive past without noticing anything unusual.”
― Tom Deaderick, Lifeflash

“People looked at a knife a lot differently than they'd look at stunners. A knife can get someone's attention when you want it.”
― Tom Deaderick, Lifeflash

“Dick kept his eyes on people like a gunfighter stepping up from a poker table to scrape winnings into his hat.”
― Tom Deaderick, The Lazarus Spear

“It's not a stair step, Hogan,' he'd said. 'It's a step from a cliff. You can't take a small step over the edge of a cliff, all there is – is the one big one.”
― Tom Deaderick, The Lazarus Spear

“The spear's purpose is clear. Mine is clear. And yours is. You're the reason it makes sense, because I'm only interested in saving the world because you're in it. Of course, He knows that.”
― Tom Deaderick, The Lazarus Spear

“All the normal ways that you might know someone, what they liked for lunch, their hobbies, their interests, the people they couldn't stand—all the normal data points people constantly, unconsciously collect, none of those data points can predict how someone might react to 'I've decided to try saving the world by stabbing the President with my magic spear'. That's pretty much going to be a gamble every time.”
― Tom Deaderick, The Lazarus Spear

“He could filter the dangerous ones from the talkers in a few minutes of conversation, like a terrorist Turing test.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightspawn

“They don’t last long. It's horrible and filled with more pain and misery than a full life can hold, but it's rarely a long time. The treatment is too rough and too careless, and they are so fragile.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightspawn

“The creek was South Indian Creek. When the settlers moved in, they liked the Indian's names better than they liked the Indians.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightspawn

“Jon prepared himself for the end of his life, in fourteen more rounds.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightspawn

“He was like a farmer's hammer, beaten and bent, and broken more than once, but welded back, bent by force of will back into place, still useful because it still could be made useful.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightspawn

“Kids are expert negotiators. When you've never had a job and have no income, you'd better be a good negotiator.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightspawn

“People don't realize how thoroughly we teach children to read deception. As soon as they get the basics of communication, adults and older kids start telling them unbelievable things, trying to make them seem believable. As if we know how important the ability to see through other people's lies is critically important. I guess, it is.”
― Tom Deaderick, Flightspawn

“I put a thirty-eight-special slug through the knob this morning... The killer was six foot-eight-inches tall, weighed about three hundred pounds, had long red hair, a full beard, was wearing a green and black plaid shirt... driving a brand new yellow and black school bus.”
― Cleo W. Robinson Jr., Trails to and Tales of Sanderson, Texas

“…We zap ‘em! We snap ‘em! We think we’re pretty slick. We change things, re-arrange things. Quicker than quick!”
― Janice Condon, Lulu Meets the King of Poo

“…she had an amazing dream: she climbed into her mouth – and swallowed herself!”
― Janice Condon, Lulu Meets the King of Poo

“Just you wait; I'll demand your attention.”
― Heather Dark, excerpt from The Designer Wife

“Just you wait; I'll demand your attention.”
― Heather Dark, The Designer Wife

“The smell of smoke and sulfur.
Three figures in the distance.
The masks that the doctors wore,
painted in black and white.
They carry large machines,
Lavinia gasping on the floor.
I am not alone here.
I am not alone.
Not alone.”
― Eloise Redding, The Fireshrike

“Sweet would be the last adjective I’d use to describe him. Arrogant. Despicable. Passive-aggressive. But no, sweet didn’t even cross my mind.”
― Emmanuelle Snow, Cast Away

“The tang of residual blood, faint as it was, danced along her senses, like a fizzy drink on her tongue. Everything sharpened, came into focus and awareness: The background buzz of the radio tubes in the other room that was usually inaudible nearly drowned out the music. The miniscule cracks in the enamel sink became a web of flaws.
The effect was almost dizzying; Callie never felt more alive than when she took in the coppery scent.
Every mage had an affinity for a particular element that strengthened and enhanced spells. Fire, air, water, earth…
Hers was blood.”
― Cathy Pegau, Blood Remains

“Ah, the traitor pays a visit,” a voice sneered from behind Magnús, drawing him to an abrupt stop. “Killed any more of our native creatures? Are you here to find victims to persecute in your humans-first campaign?”
Magnús’s jaw tightened as he turned to face the speaker. “Lars Berkisson. You must be desperate if you’re grubbing for supporters here.”
Lars gave Magnús a tight smile, his steel-gray eyes narrowing. “I came to offer comfort to Vörður, and to tend to his affairs while he rots in the cell where you put him. Tell me, Magnús. How many more of your own people will you try to destroy in your self-hatred?”
“Vörður put himself in that cell when he stole a human baby and tried to pass himself off as the infant. He ignored the edict laid down by Queen Hildur, risked violating the First Covenant, and in any event, the act was despicable. Changelings have been forbidden for decades.”
Lars laughed. “Of course, you and Bryndís are too modern to gather servants in the old ways. But we who honor the ancient customs have long known that if we must tolerate non-magical humans on our shores, then they are best taken as babes. Those raised from infancy make for superior attendants and retainers. The queen has been led astray by your misplaced devotion to mortals, but I have confidence she’ll return to tradition.”
Magnús clenched his jaw, determined to keep his temper. “A tradition of bigotry and false piety, pretending the gods want us to use humans as pets or chattel.”
“Well, isn’t that what Sigurjón was to you? A pet?”
The twist to Lars’s upper lip enraged Magnús. Although Lars had been back from his exile for nearly a fifth of a century, Magnús’s every encounter with him brought them close to battle. With a tremendous effort of will, Magnús refrained from pulling the dagger tucked in his belt.
“Sigurjón was as much a child of the gods as you once were, Lars,” he said through gritted teeth. “The path you follow leads to Hel’s sunless lands, though you lie to your followers and promise them Valhöll.”
Lars shook his head in a way that infuriated Magnús. “Álfheimur is the true home of our people. Those who hear my words long only for a return to the days before men invaded our shores. Before they killed our trees, stole our magic, and built their abominable cities.”
“The gods led mortals here to Iceland, Cousin. Your brand of fanaticism sets those who believe you against the will of the Æsir. And I, for one, look forward to a reckoning.”
With that, Magnús strode away. He didn’t trust himself to spend one more minute in the presence of the vile creature who had murdered his beloved Sigurjón.”
― Robert Winter, Falconsaga