contemporary

One describes a tale best by telling the tale. You see? The way one describes a story, to oneself or to the world, is by telling the story. It is a balancing act and it is a dream. The more accurate the map, the more it resembles the territory. The most accurate map possible would be the territory, and thus would be perfectly accurate and perfectly useless. The tale is the map that is the territory.You must remember this.

Sometimes people who look different from you are scary. Maybe they are ugly. Maybe they are loud. Maybe theyare big. Maybe they are green. Maybe they are all those things. But you should not be afraid of them just because of how they look. You may find they are nice to you if you arenice to them.

Refusing to lean back against him, Colleen sat ramrod straight until they reached the road. __ guess I should say thank you for saving my life,_ she muttered then turned and slapped Faolán hard across the face. __nd that__ for you having to save it in the first place. And I__ not your woman, you big, arrogant, lying, betraying_faery loving_ She searched for the perfect insult and couldn__ find one, __Scot._ She gave a very unladylike snort. __appy now? That fiery enough for you?

Identify yourself,_ Colleen demanded. ____e got a bat and I will beat the living shit out of you if you so much as blink. I__e got a black belt,_ she lied frantically, __nd_and_a gun. A big one._ - Colleen O__rien

You turn the lights on and off here and if you can__ sleep and want something to read there are books in the living room_ her voice broke off. __ait. Can you read?__is chin took a slight tilt upward. __ye,_ Faolán replied, his voice cool, __n English, Gaelic, Latin, or French. My Welsh is a bit rusty, and I doona remember any of the Greek I was taught except for words not fit for a lady__ ears. I can also count all the way up to_ He looked down and wiggled his large bare toes, __twenty._ _ Faolán MacIntyre

Funny how I keep forgetting you__e insane._ - Colleen O__rien

Submitted for your approval--the curious case of Colleen O__rien and thegorgeous time traveling Scot who landed in her living room._ _ Rod Serling

Och, lass. Yer going to have to not do that._ Faolán exhaled. __reeping up on a man is a dangerous thing, and I confess I__ jumpier than most. Yer feet are soft as a cat__.___ wasn__ creeping anywhere, I was going to make coffee and this is my house, I__l creep anywhere I like,_ Colleen muttered with a petulant scowl. __ut I wasn__ creeping.

His deep voice drifted to her through the crowd of women. __my lady when she returns. Och, there ye are, Blossom,_ Faolán grinned, standing up and taking her hand so she could ease back into the restaurant booth. __hese lasses were just asking if I was a stripper. I told them I doona think so,_ he said, his face clouded with uncertainty. ____ not, am I?__he inquisitive lasses in question flushed scarlet and scattered to the four corners of the room at the murderous look on Colleen__ face. __o, you__e not, but I guess I can see how they__ think that,_ she muttered darkly. __hat you are is a freaking estrogen magnet.

Food shouldn__ be that shade of green, lass._ _ Faolán MacIntyre

When I__ remember this night in weeks, months, or even years, it wouldn__ be the sex. Sex would fade and so would the need to be filled with him, but right now I felt him inscribe his soul around my chest, and the reminder would be there with every beat for as long as I lived.

Rubbing a clit to competin and sawing off someone's foot seemed to use all the same muscles.

Don__ invite envy to your house _ you never know who will show up,_ she used to warn me.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing._ (Edmund Burke)

Talking to you is like talking to someone I__e never met before. When did you become so competitive? When did you decide that you needed to win all of the time?__e stopped dead in the promenade and grabbed her hand, turning her to face him.He caught her by surprise. She leant her neck backwards slightly in defence.__hen I lost you.

And then he was kissing me like we were both on fire and he was trying to put the flames out, and I kissed him back like an arsonist with a pocketful of matches.

Sometimes,you don't wake up.But if you happento, you know thingswill never bethe same.

She senses your vulnerability, and reassures that every dream you__e ever whispered in the night, or secret desires you dared not speak, are all within the palm of her hand