faerie

Perhaps all women are part faerie, for what woman can deny her faerie blood when the portals to her own land are open; when the full moon sings its insistent song; when sorrow and passion and rage pulse through her body at moon times. This is why women are the chosen ones of Faerie, pat of the vibrant, fluid, emotional soul of the world_

I have been in the land of Faerie for years and it is a place where mortal blood is turned to fire. It is a place of beauty and terror beyond what can be imagined here. I have ridden with the Wild Hunt. I have carved a clear path of freedom among the stars and outrun the wind. And no I am asked to walk upon the earth again.

There are no happy endings... There are no endings, happy or otherwise. We all have our own stories which are just part of the one Story that binds both this world and Faerie. Sometimes we step into each others stories - perhaps just for a few minutes, perhaps for years - and then we step out of them again. But all the while, the Story just goes on.

Do not lose your heart," she said. What she did not tell me was that the surest way to lose it was to hold it tight.

How different this world to the one about which I used to read, and in which I used to live! This is one peopled by demons, phantoms, vampires, ghouls, boggarts, and nixies. Names of things of which I knew nothing are now so familiar that the creatures themselves appear to have real existence. The Arabian Nights are not more fantastic than our gospels; and Lempriere would have found ours a more marvelous world to catalog than the classical mythical to which he devoted his learning. Ours is a world of luprachaun and clurichaune, deev and cloolie, and through the maze of mystery I have to thread my painful way, now learning how to distinguish oufe from pooka, and nis from pixy; study long screeds upon the doings of effreets and dwergers, or decipher the dwaul of delirious monks who have made homunculi from refuse. Waking or sleeping, the image of some uncouth form is always present to me. What would I not give for a volume by the once despised 'A. L. O. E' or prosy Emma Worboise? Talk of the troubles of Winifred Bertram or Jane Eyre, what are they to mine? Talented authoresses do not seem to know that however terrible it may be to have as a neighbour a mad woman in a tower, it is much worse to have to live in a kitchen with a crocodile. This elementary fact has escaped the notice of writers of fiction; the re-statement of it has induced me to reconsider my decision as to the most longed-for book; my choice now is the Swiss Family Robinson. In it I have no doubt I should find how to make even the crocodile useful, or how to kill it, which would be still better.("Mysterious Maisie")

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, __nd where were you last night?__ucien__ metal eye narrowed on me. ____l have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol._ Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, __ith some company._ He gave me a sly grin. __umor has it you two didn__ come back until after dawn.__ glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I__ practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin__ gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous.__ou bit my neck on Fire Night,_ I said under my breath. __f I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.__e braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. __othing?_ His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him.__othing,_ I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin__ mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath.__re you sure?_ he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me.____ trying to eat,_ Lucien said.

I saw only a flash of green and gold before the warmth of Tamlin__ body slammed into me and our lips met.I couldn__ kiss him deeply enough, couldn__ hold him tightly enough, couldn__ touch enough of him. Words weren__ necessary.I tore at his shirt, needing to feel the skin beneath one last time, and I had to stifle the moan that rose up in me as he grasped my breast. I didn__ want him to be gentle__ecause what I felt for him wasn__ at all like that. What I felt was wild and hard and burning, and so he was with me.He tore his lips from mine and bit my neck__it it as he had on Fire Night. I had to grind my teeth to keep myself from moaning and giving us away. This might be the last time I touched him, the last time we could be together. I wouldn__ waste it.My fingers grappled with his belt buckle, and his mouth found mine again. Our tongues danced__ot a waltz or a minuet, but a war dance, a death dance of bone drums and screaming fiddles.I wanted him__ere.I hooked a leg around his middle, needing to be closer, and he ground his hips harder against me, crushing me into the icy wall. I pried the belt buckle loose, whipping the leather free, and Tamlin growled his desire in my ear__ low, probing sort of sound that made me see red and white and lightning.

Not forever,_ he said onto my mouth.And though I knew it was a lie, I put my arms around his neck and kissed him.He pulled me onto his lap, holding me tightly against him as his lips parted mine. I became aware of every pore in my body when his tongue entered my mouth.Though the horror of Rhysand__ magic still tore at me, I pushed Tamlin onto the bed, straddling him, pinning him as if it would somehow keep me from leaving, as if it would make time stop entirely.His hands rested on my hips, and their heat singed me through the thin silk of my nightgown. My hair fell around our faces like a curtain. I couldn__ kiss him fast enough, hard enough to express the rushing need within me. He growled softly and deftly flipped us over, spreading me beneath him as he wrenched his lips from my mouth and made a trail of kisses down my neck.My entire world constricted to the touch of his lips on my skin. Everything beyond them, beyond him, was a void of darkness and moonlight. My back arched as he reached the spot he__ once bitten, and I dragged my hands through his hair, savoring the silken smoothness.He traced the arc of my hipbones, lingering at the edge of my undergarments. My nightgown had become hitched around my waist, but I didn__ care. I hooked my bare legs around his, running my feet down the hard muscles of his calves.He breathed my name onto my chest, one of his hands exploring the plane of my torso, rising up to the slope of my breast. I trembled, anticipating the feel of his hand there, and his mouth found mine again as his fingers stopped just below.His kissing was slower this time__entler. The fingertips of his other hand slipped beneath the waist of my undergarment, and I sucked in a breath.He hesitated at the sound, pulling back slightly. But I bit his lip in a silent command that had him growling into my mouth. With one long claw, he shredded through silk and lace, and my undergarment fell away in pieces. The claw retracted, and his kiss deepened as his fingers slid between my legs, coaxing and teasing. I ground against his hand, yielding completely to the writhing wildness that had roared alive inside me, and breathed his name onto his skin.He paused again__is fingers retracting__ut I grabbed him, pulling him farther on top of me. I wanted him now__ wanted the barriers of our clothing to vanish, I wanted to taste his sweat, wanted to become full of him.

Perhaps her only legacy would be that she had known something immortal, and while eternity may still belong to God alone, not all things were enslaved by time.

She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.

He is dangerous," Alton said, his voice rough.She parted her lips to refute his claim. His heated gaze studied her mouth.For a moment, she thought he wanted to kiss her. At the dining table. In front of her brother. Cook, who had just entered the dining hall with a tray full of fresh sourdough rolls. And one human prisoner. For one insane moment, she wanted him to. Kiss her.

In Tybalt's case, it means bloody control of the local Court of Cats. He became their king by right of blood; he's held the position by beating the crap out of anyone who tries to take it away. The Cait Sidhe take a more direct and bloody approach to succession than most of Faerie.

But you're so easy to sneak up on." He crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "You should be honored that I bother, since there's no challenge to it.""Right," I said dryly.Tybalt has never made a secret of his contempt for changelings in general and me in particular. Not even the years I spent missing could change that. If anything, it made things worse, because when I came back, I promptly removed myself from all the places he was accustomed to finding me. Hating me suddenly took effort - an effort he's proved annoying glad to make. On the other hand, it's actually been something of a relief, because it is something I can count on. Dawn comes, the moon rises and Tybalt hates me.

Only an idiot would trust a Kelpie this close to the water. Getting on its back with the scent of the sea in the air would be a fast, painful means of suicide, and I'm not a fan of pain.

She had been nothing but a beloved bauble passed from a mother to a son, a decoration of vanity, devoid of identity.

But unlike you," said Jace, "there is nothing of hell in us.""You are mortal; you age; you die," the Queen said dismissively. "If that is not hell, pray tell me, what is?

Every gift comes with a price._ I frowned, and he grinned. __ kiss.___bsolutely not!_ But my blood raced, and I had to clench my hands in the grass to keep from touching him. __on__ you think it puts me at a disadvantage to not be able to see all this?_____ one of the High Fae__e don__ give anything without gaining something from it.__o my own surprise, I said, __ine.__e blinked, probably expecting me to have fought a little harder. I hid my smile and sat up so that I faced him, our knees touching as we knelt in the grass.__hat about your part of the bargain?___hat?__e leaned closer, his smile turning wicked. __hat about my kiss?__ grabbed his fingers. __ere,_ I said, and slammed my mouth against the back of his hand. __here__ your kiss.

The sylph is a fragment of the earth's soul in faery form.