Gracie Grass

“Back in the day, she would have been right up my alley, but that was before I met Rosh and her ten personalities. I like about four of her personalities. I’m in love with about three of them and the other three I hate with a passion. She’s doing my fucking head in.”
― T.L. Swan, Play Along

“Sir!’ Seb shouted. ‘Did you see —’ ‘See what?’ Esyllt surveyed the shieldbearer with open dislike. ‘The bitch hit me!’ Esyllt frowned, not even sparing Thea a glance. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. But if you’re insisting that an untrained woman landed a punch on you, then I’d say you’re the bitch Sebastos.”
― Helen Scheuerer, Blood & Steel

“She held his emerald stare, knowing silver flames flickered in her own. “I went into the Cauldron because of you,” she said softly, and could have sworn thunder grumbled in the distance. Cassian and Eris faded away into nothing. There was only Tamlin, only this beast, and what he had done to her and her family. “Elain went into the Cauldron because of you,” Nesta went on. Her fingertips heated, and she knew if she looked down, she’d find silver embers flaring there. “I don’t care how much you apologize or try to atone for it or claim you didn’t know the King of Hybern would do such a thing or that you begged him not to do it. You colluded with him. Because you thought Feyre was your property.” Nesta pointed at Tamlin. The ground shook. Cassian swore behind her. Tamlin shrank from her outstretched finger, claws digging into the earth. “Put that finger down, you witch.” Nesta smiled. “I’m glad you remember what happened to the last person I pointed at.” She lowered her arm. “We’re going now.” She stepped back to where Cassian was already waiting, arms open. He wrapped them around her waist. Nesta glanced to Eris, who gave her a shallow, approving nod, then vanished. Nesta said to Tamlin before they shot into the skies, “Tell anyone you saw us, High Lord, and I’ll rip your head from your body, too.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses eBook Bundle

“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all, I still know quite certainly, that just to be alive, is a grand thing. Agatha Christie, 1890–1976”
― Abby Jimenez, Life's Too Short