Karen

“The barrier undulated and shimmered as the blood flowed. Too small a death, the tribute was dismissed. They waited, hissing at the man and his droning praise. Praise, tribute and promise called it, but all was in order and there would be no rift. Their eyes burning, demons clawed the thinning wall, a barrier that separated two different universes. Like pearls on a string, each universe was unique. One was home to the darkest of energies and the endless chaos of destruction. The other was a teetering mass of creation, springing from a blend of order and chaos. Within the dark universe, life of a different sort fashioned its own world. It was already old when, peering though the shifting folds of the barrier, it had glimpsed our world. For eons, it observed Earth’s smoldering beginning, then its parade of life and the rise of Man. Then it entered our dreams, whispering, cajoling, and hissing promises of glory and power.”
― M.K. Noble, The Demon Rift

“Flesh melts faster than lies dissolve. In the end, only the plague tells the truth.”
― Jack D. Ace, Plague House: The Nazi Formula's Curse

“Can’t you tell I’m broken?” she demanded. “I can’t stand anyone touching me!” “You handled me touching you until I pushed you too far.” “Freaking out because someone you’re enjoying kissing tries to get closer to you is not normal.” “It wasn’t normal that I was turned into a vampire because a female vamp became obsessed with my best friend,” David replied. “When Liam didn’t follow after her, she decided to turn his friends in the hopes she would get him to fall in line with her. That’s about as far from normal as it gets. I didn’t have a clue about the paranormal being real when my transformation occurred. Vampires were for horror movies, not reality. Life’s not normal. Shit happens. We all work through it.” “Is that so, Dr. Phil?” The frustrating man smiled at her. “That’s so,” David replied.”
― Brenda K. Davies, Fractured

“How very moving,” FitzSimon declared from the ramparts above, his tone full of rancor. “Now take your bastard and go, MacKinnon!” Iain hung his head back, peering up into the ramparts to meet FitzSimon’s gaze. “Aye,” he agreed. “You’ve kept your end o’ the bargain, FitzSimon, and now I’ll keep mine. Your daughter will be returned to you within the hour.” “Nay!” FitzSimon shook his head vehemently. “Keep the bloody bitch!” Iain was struck entirely dumb. Surely he didn’t mean that... He was but angry... “If you return her to me,” FitzSimon swore, “I’ll rip out her traitorous tongue for her betrayal!” Iain held his son in stunned disbelief. “I have no need of the lass,” he returned. “Surely you cannot mean...” “Keep her, or kill her!” FitzSimon declared. “I care not which—only get her the hell out of my sight!” And then he withdrew, ending the discourse, once and for all, leaving Iain and his men to stare after him in shock.”
― Tanya Anne Crosby, The MacKinnon's Bride