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My name is October Christine Daye; I live in a city by the sea where the fog paints the early morning, parking is more precious than gold, and Kelpies wait for the unwary on street corners. Neither of the worlds I live in is quite mine, but
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“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”
―
―
“In the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive me what I’m about to do.”
“Forgive you wha—”
My sentence was cut off as he clamped his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply.
...
“Ready to make a scene?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive what I’m about to do.” I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, “You asshole!”
― Late Eclipses
“Forgive you wha—”
My sentence was cut off as he clamped his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply.
...
“Ready to make a scene?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive what I’m about to do.” I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, “You asshole!”
― Late Eclipses
“I’m a cat. We aren’t required to make sense.”
― A Local Habitation
― A Local Habitation
“He was still so very young. Faeries—true faeries, not their changeling throwaways—live forever, and when you have an eternity of adulthood ahead of you, you linger over childhood. You tend it and keep it close to your heart, because once it ends, it’s over. Quentin was barely fifteen. He’d never seen the Great Hunt that came down every twenty-one years, or been present for the crowning of a King or Queen of Cats, or announced his maturity before the throne of High King Aethlin. He was a child, and he should have had decades left to play; a century of games and joy and edging cautiously toward adulthood.
But he didn’t. I could see his childhood dying in his eyes as he looked at me, silently begging me to answer for him.”
― An Artificial Night
But he didn’t. I could see his childhood dying in his eyes as he looked at me, silently begging me to answer for him.”
― An Artificial Night
“You bastard.” The words were out before she even had time to consider them, but after spoken she hardly regretted them.
“What did you say?” Prince Aldrik snarled.
“You, my prince ,” she sneered in kind. “You are a self-centered, egotistical, self-absorbed, narrow-sighted, vain, self-important,” she felt her anger finally reach its boiling point, “conceited bastard !” Vhalla cried out.”
― Air Awakens
“What did you say?” Prince Aldrik snarled.
“You, my prince ,” she sneered in kind. “You are a self-centered, egotistical, self-absorbed, narrow-sighted, vain, self-important,” she felt her anger finally reach its boiling point, “conceited bastard !” Vhalla cried out.”
― Air Awakens
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