When a lion stalks a herd, he sneaks in close, lies down, and surveys them to choose his victim. He takes his time. The deer or buffalo have no idea he’s near. He finds his prey and then he explodes from his hiding place and grabs it. Even if another, perfectly serviceable animal ends up within his reach, he isn’t going to alter his course. He has chosen, and he would rather go hungry than change his mind.
Aha! So I’m not crazy.” “You are most definitely crazy,” Derek said. “But in a deranged, endearing way.
True strength isn’t in killing—or ignoring—your opponent, it’s in having the will to shield those who need your protection.
Let’s talk.” I pinned Red to his chair with my stare. I did deranged quite well, when the occasion required.
Her face looked like it would shatter any second.
Black hair, angelic face, and devil eyes.
I dropped all the guards. All the leashes, all the chains, everything that ever restrained me through the discipline and fear of discovery, I let it all go. No need to hide.
Sure, I didn't weigh a hundred and ten pounds , but my narrow waist let me bend and I could break a man's neck with my kick.
Some men were handsome. Some were powerful. Curran was...dangerous.
Is he a scumbag in training?” Richard glanced at the gunman. “At least have the decency to hold the gun properly, you fool. If you don’t know how, pass it to someone who does. I’m not going to suffer being shot at by anything less than a full- fledged lowlife. (Richard)
Now was not a good time, but we didn't often get to chose the time to repay our debts.
He said 'woman' in the same way I'd say 'Mmmm, yummy chocolate.
The kind of eyes that jumped from a woman's dreams right into her morning and made trouble in the marriage bed.
Shave that jaw, brush that hair, tone down the crazy in the eyes, and he would have to fight women off with that crossbow.
You're not going to die?" "Not right this minute." And of course, saying something like that usually resulted in immediate dying. I braced myself for a stray meteorite falling through the roof to crush my skull.
Wanna spot me?" "No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?
The sight of me puffing and straining apparently amused him to no end.
I'm secure enough in myself to wear panties with bows on them. Besides, they are comfy and soft." "I bet." He almost purred. I gulped.
Curran struck at my wrist. His fingers were cat-quick, but I had spent my life honing my reflexes, and he missed. “Well, look at that.” I studied my free wrist. “Denied. Good-bye
Yes I can,” Curran snarled. “Listen: this is me telling you what you will not do.” I raised the cookbook and tapped him on the nose. Bad cat.
Rose pictured him standing at the boundary of the Ogletree house in that enormous fur cape, with a giant sword sticking over his shoulder, roaring at the top of his lungs and then being upset that nobody came out, and laughed.
Our standard rate. A doubloon a day." It was generous. More than generous--some families would put him up for a week for a single coin. "Half a doubloon a day," she said. "No, you see, the idea behind bargaining is that you ask for a larger amount.
My ego doesn't need soothing. I don't want him soothing anything of mine, including you.
Andrea raised her eyebrows. "Look at you, all high-speed." "Yeah, you'd think I was a detective or something." Andrea held her hand out. "You'll jinx it.
Runes, runes, runes... Runes. An inverted Algiz rune. The caption next to it said “Chernobog.” The Black God. Right. Of course, it wouldn’t be Chernobog, God of Morning Dew on the Rose Petals, but a woman could always hope.
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