I held on to my better nature by my fingernails but I held on.
Trees had died to make these forms, and that seemed a great pity to me.
It’s hard not to respond when a master of the art of kissing is laying one on you.
Oh, God, puppy dog eyes. From a six-foot-five ancient Viking vampire.
I had never realized a woman could have to struggle to keep her hands off a man, but here I was, digging my nails into my palms, staring at the inside of my eyelids as though I could maybe see through them if I peered hard enough.
I’ve got libraries in my blood.
It was one of God’s jokes that such a dumb mind had been put in such an eloquent body.
Eric was incensed, to use a good entry from my word of the day Calender. In fact his eyes were almost throwing sparks he was so angry. “This woman has been mine, and she will be mine” he said in tones so definite I thought about checking my rear end for a brand.
Bill said, “She is mine.” I wondered if my hands would move. They would. I raised both of them, making an unmistakable one-fingered gesture. Eric laughed, and Bill said “Sookie!” in shocked admonishment. “I think that Sookie is telling us she belongs to herself,” Eric said softly.
Not a creature was stirring, not even an elf.
Episcopalians are pretty thin on the ground in the central United States.
The Sookie Stackhouse novels were selling well before the TV show, but the TV show led to a lot more exposure and readers. And a lot went on to read my other work. It was a wonderful thing for my bank account.
I certainly think we’re going to see more and more graphic novels and more illustrated novels.
I’m a middle-class former housewife who goes to my daughter’s softball games.
Life should imitate romance literature far more often.
The night swelled with magic; not the beneficent kind of love-magic that sweeps couples away, but the kind of magic that rips and tears, the enchantment that creeps out of the woods and pounces.
Well in two months, it’d be sunbathing time. That made me smile. I enjoyed lying in the sun in a little bikini, timing myself carefully so I didn’t burn. I loved the smell of coconut oil. And I don’t want to hear any lectures about how bad tanning is for you. That’s my vice. Everybody gets one.
The world seemed a bad and terrible place, all its denizens suspect, and I the lamb wandering through the valley of death with a bell around my neck.
Better to be screwed physically than financially.
I added to my mental list of the odd things I’d done that day. I’d entertained the police, sunbathed, visited at a mall with some fairies, weeded and killed someone. Now it was powdered-corpse removal time. And the day wasn’t over yet.