Patricia Briggs

I don't say goodbye very easily, Anna. Not gracefully or prettily.Goodbye tears your heart out and leaves it a feast for carrion birds who happen by.

One of the oddest things about being grown-up was looking back at something you thought you knew and finding out the truth of it was completely different from what you had always believed.

He was like Superman, but with fangs and oddly impaired morals.

Damn it," I said. "I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to kill Littleton."He smiled at me, his teeth very white in the darkness of his face. "Eat him," he said.

If creation was given no limit, ultimately everything would cease to exist.

Vampire politics make the very complicated dance of manners that is werewolf protocol look like the Hokey Pokey.

Reluctantly, I pulled out my necklace and showed it to them.Samuel frowned. The little figure was stylized; I suppose he couldn't tell what it was at first."A dog?" asked Zee, staring at my necklace."A lamb," I said defensively, tucking it safely back under my shirt. "Because one of Christ's names is 'The Lamb of God.'"Samuel's shoulders shook slightly. "I can see it now, Mercy holding a roomful of vampire at bay with her glowing sheep."I gave his shoulder a hard push, aware of the heat climbing to my cheeks, but it didn't help. He sang in a soft taunting voice, "Mercy had a little lamb...

I was going to fight vampires, and my name wasn't Buffy--I was so screwed.

You'd tell the world what your best friend wore to sleep if you thought it made a good enough story.

This was not a man who wanted to give up his mate. This was a man trying to do the honorable thing__nd give her a choice, no matter hiw much it cost him.

Jumping Jehoshaphat. O Holy Night.

No, really," I said. "Now that we know that Flores is really this nasty, fiery, superpowerful nothing-can-kill-me demon from hell, maybe we should consider just giving Christy to him?

So in the sweltering heat of a July night, I sang a Christmas carol to a room full of fae, who had been driven out of their homelands by Christians and their cold-iron swords.

She wondered that hope was so much harder then despair.

It was like being leaned on by a very heavy, warm brick. A sexy brick.

Identity was partly heritage, partly upbringing, but mostly the choices you make in life. ~ Bran

I thought it would be quieter here._ [Anna] hadn__ meant to say anything, but the noise startled her. __he wind in the trees,_ Bran said. __nd there are some birds that stay year-round. Sometimes when the wind is still and the cold is upon us, the quiet is so deep you can feel it in your bones.

She doesn__ need the pack. She doesn__ need me.__ shot to my feet. __hat__ not true,_ I said hotly.He tilted his head a little, his eyes meeting mine. His eyes softened. __ misspoke,_ he said in a steady voice. __he doesn__ need me to make sure she has enough food or a place to live-that is my privilege, but she doesn__ need me to do that. She doesn__ need me to keep her safe or to make her a whole person. She doesn__ need me to do anything except love her. Which I do.