Baking is like washing--the results are equally temporary.
Time was such an odd thing. One moment you could talk to someone, then suddenly, they were gone.
Mine" he said. Adam's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. She is mine." It would of been flattering,I thought,except that at least one of them was talking about dinner and I wasn't certain about the other.
My grandfather would have loved to have met you," he told her huskily. "He would have called you 'She Moves Trees Out of His Path.' " She looked lost, but his da laughed. He'd known the old man, too. "He called me 'He Who Must Run into Trees,'" Charles explained, and in a spirit of honesty, a need for his mate to know who he was, he continued, "or sometimes 'Running Eagle.' " " 'Running Eagle'?" Anna puzzled it over, frowning at him. "What's wrong with that?" "Too stupid to fly," murmured his father with a little smile.
For Adam, screwed-up bonding thing or not, I’d wait forever. “Really?” he asked in a tone I’d never heard from him before. Softer. Vulnerable. Adam didn’t do vulnerable. “Really what?” I asked. “Despite the way our bond scares you, despite the way someone in the pack played you, you’d still have me?” He'd been listening to my thoughts. This time it didn't bother me. “Adam,” I told him, “I’d walk barefoot over hot coals for you.
Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked. ”Enough to accept my apologies?” I suggested in a small voice. ”Heck no,” he said, and pushed off from the wall, stalking forward. When he reached me, he put his hands up and touched the sides of my neck with the tips of his fingers – as if I were something fragile. ”No apologies from you,” he told me, his voice soft enough to melt my knees and most of my other parts.
Mine, ... Mine is what she is.
A second floor window opened, and Kyle stuck his head and shoulders out so he could look down at us. “If you two are finished playing Cowboy and Indian out there, some of us would like to get their beauty sleep.” I looked at Warren. “You heard ‘um Kemo Sabe. Me go to my little wigwam and get ‘um shut-eye.” “How come you always get to play the Indian?” whined Warren, deadpan. “Cause she’s the Indian, white boy,” said Kyle.
The trick to going wherever you want unchallenged in a hospital is to walk briskly, nod to the people you know, and ignore the ones you don’t. The nod reassures everyone that you are known, the brisk pace that you have a mission and don’t want to talk
My will broke at the sound of his voice, and my head turned with as much inevitability as a sunflower turning its face to the sun.
You play games with people's lives.(...) You forget that they are fragile.
Are we going to Portland?" I asked. "Or Multnomah Falls?" He smiled at me. "Go to sleep." I waited three seconds. "Are we there yet?" His smile widened, and the last of the usual tension melted from his face. For a smile like that, I'd...do anything.
Adam didn't approve of Wal-Mart.
Nothing says you're sorry like a dead bunny.
Mercy is not a proper Indian name."..........."Rash Coyote Who Runs With Wolf. We could shorten it to Dinner Woman.
Some of the fae have an odd idea of bride send-offs," he explained "including, according to Zee, kidnapping." "I forgot about that." And I was appalled because I knew better. "Bran and Samuel are probably more of a danger than any of the fae," I told him. "Someday, I'll tell you about some of the more spectaculare wedding antics Samuel's told me about." Some of them made kidnapping look mild.
Someday, I'm going to meet some supernatural creature who tells me everything I should know up front and in a forthright manner - but I'm not going to hold my breath.
Wolves eat coyotes," Gordon said[...] If he weren't an old man, I had some rude things I could have said to that. "Yes," observed Adam blandly. "I do." Yep. That was the one that came to mind. And he didn't even blush when he said it. Maybe Gordon would miss the double entendre. But he grinned cheerfully at Adam.
He stopped what he was doing and pulled out his magic phone. Okay, the phone wasn't magic, but it does things my computer struggles with.
Mmm, he rumbled into my ear. I thought that being married meant that I never go to bed hungry.
Death is not such a bad thing. What would be a bad thing would be living without challenges. Without knowing defeat, we cannot know what victory is. There is no life without death.
Usually the people I do know are sufficient to spawn any number of nightmares without inventing any.
I don't break; I bounce.
Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.
Not that I'd really been planning on keeping the attack secret; it had just been an option I'd wanted to keep open if I could.
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