when times are tough, the weak bail and the tough get creative.
Never go easy on allies if you ahve to take them down. Especially allies. You’re already fighting the urge not to hurt them. Counteract that and hit them with everything you’ve got.
...in some ways I relied on that- someone to keep me thinking, keep me striving to do better, keep me from burying my head and praying it all worked out.
Murder? You mean he's dead?" "No. He's resting comfortably," I said. "People always sleep best with their heads at a ninety-degree angle. He looks comfortable, doesn't he?" (Paige & Elena)
Dont talk to the crazy kids. I longed to shout back that we weren't crazy. I'd mistaken her kid for a ghost, that's all.
Tori joined us for dinner --in body, at least. She spent the meal practicing for a role in the next zombie movie, expressionless, methodically moving fork to mouth, sometimes even with food on it.
Life experience. I can talk it up, vow to broaden my horizons, but I’m still limited to the experiences with my life. How can a person understand an experience that lies completely outside her own? She can see it, feel it, imagine what it would be like to live it, but it’s no different from seeing a movie on a screen and saying, “Thank God that’s not me”.
Hello, Aaron," Brigid said, sliding up to him and running a finger down his chest. "You're looking good . . . as always." Aaron lifted her finger off his shirt and let it drop. "Put some clothing on, Brigid." She smiled up at him. "Why? Tempted?" "Yeah, to cover my eyes.
Why is it that every time a girl says a guy is bothering her, it's fluffed off with oh, he just likes you, as if that makes it okay?
The rottweiler stood his ground and waited for me to take the next step in the dance of ritualized intimidation. Instead, I leaped at him. Screw ritual. Now was not the time to stand on ceremony.
It wasn't until I was in my teens that I started admiring writers as inspirations for my own work, and my earliest influences there were Stephen King, Marion Zimmer Bradley and Richard Adams.
A girl my age had been murdered in these woods and I'd seen her last terrified moments, watched her bleed to death in this forest. A life like mine had ended here, and it didn't matter how many times I'd seen deaths in movies, it wasn't the same, and I wasn't ever going to forget it.
Dearly departed, scarcely lamented, deeply demented.
Storytelling is my passion, and it rises from a love of reading.
No. Harsh truth was better than comfortable lies. It had to be.
There was no closing my eyes and sliding back into that blissful dream of normal. This was my normal now.
Still sitting, he reached out and pulled me toward him. We stayed there, looking at each other, his hand still wrapped in my shirt hem, my heart hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it. when I inched closer, not wanting to intrude, he tugged me in front of him and I stumbled, half falling onto his lap. I tried to scramble up, cheeks burning, but he pulled me down onto his knee, one army going around my waist, tentative, as if to say Is this okay? It was, even if my blood pounded in my ears so hard I couldn't think.
We scarified a mosquito. I bet that's what did it. It was probably a virgin too.
He looked like a Yanni fan at an Iron Maiden Concert.
He had a newspaper rolled in his hand, bearing down on me like a puppy that had piddled on the carpet. "Bad Chloe,” I muttered. "What?” I’d forgotten his bionic hearing. “Bad Chloe.” I gestured at the rolled-up paper and put out my hand. “Get it over with.
Lavina led me to an abandoned warehouse. I think that at some point someone decreed that all clandestine meetings must be held in one. Woe to the criminal overlord who lives in a city thriving with commerce, with no empty warehouses to be found. He probably needs to build one, just to have a place to arrange late-night meetings. (Bewitched)
What's the woman doing there?" he asked. "Covering a scratch on the hood. She was cheaper than a new paint job." He flipped through a few more pages of barely dressed women and classic cars. "Nick used to have magazines like this when we were kids. But without the cars." He rotated a photo sideways. "Or the bathing suits.
I want you to have big dreams, big goals. I want you to strive to achieve them. But I don't want to see you beating yourself up every time you make a mistake.
So consider your options, make your choice and call me home.
Then he reached up and tore my shirtfront open. "Not much to see, is there?" I said, struggling to talk with a crushed windpipe. "I know, I know, they can fix things like that these days. Call me a feminist, but I think a woman's worth should be defined not by the size of her bust, but - " I rammed my fist up into his Adam's apple. He grunted and stumbled back. "- by the strength of her right hook.
He rolled his eyes. "First, my Dad's Korean and my mom was Swedish. Second, I totally suck at math. I don't like cuckoo clocks or skiing or fancy chocolate either." I sputtered a laugh. "I think that's Swiss.
Uh-uh" Clay drawled above me, "Elena's played with you long enough, Its my turn
That's what being crazy was, wasn't it? You thought you were fine. Everyone else knew better.
I'd always thought of myself as an open-minded person. I had no patience with anyone who put down other kids because of their race, religion, or sexuality. But that's just one kind of open-mindedness. There's another kind, too, the kind that's willing to see people for who they really are and admit when you were wrong about them. That's the part I still need to work on.
Where's Simon?"..."Is he okay? Why isn't he here?" She glared at Derek. "Where'd you leave him?" Passed out in an alley." Derek frowned in thought. "Not sure where, though.
It's because when we sneeze, our soul flies out our nose and if no one says 'bless you,' the devil can snatch it.
He lunged again. This time I stood my ground and he checked his leap at the last second....and toppled sideways. I didn't hide my laugh that time. His face twisted fast, grabbed my pajama leg and wrenched, and down I went. "Bully
We’re not naked, we’re skyclad!
This is what I wanted. This guy. This life. This me. I was never getting my old life back, and I didn't care. I was happy. I was safe. I was right where I wanted to be.
After the woman left, I set my coffee down and opened the bag. Two muffins-double-chocolate and blueberry bran. I texted Adam a thank-you. I’d just started eating the chocolate muffin when he texted backPut that one down and eat the bran. It’s better foryou.
So do all animals react that way to you? I know you said rats steer clear." "Most do. They see a human, but they smell someting else. It confuses them. Canines are the worst, though." He paused. "No, cats are the worst. I really don't like cats." I laughed.
That's what we all want, isn't it? Power without price.
Kids who don't eavesdrop on adult conversations are doomed to a childhood of ignorance.
What gave it away? When she loaded me bound and gagged into the back of her truck? Or when she actually said. "I'm ready to kill you and throw your body inn the swamp? "Hey for a while there, it looked like you were going to talk your way out of it. I didn't want to interfere.
He leaned her back against the tub, setting her head on the edge, then washed her shoulders. "I know I left you once." She opened her mouth, wanting to say it didn't matter, it was forgotten. But it wasn't. "I know I hurt you." Again, she wanted to argue. But she couldn't. "I know I said I won't leave you again, but I also know that's not enough, and that the only way you're going to trust that I won't leave is if I don't". He slid the cloth over her arms. "If this ends, Hope, it won't be me that ends it. I think you know that.
I remember hearing myself start to whimper, a five-year-old, crouched by the side of the road, staring into my father's eyes, whimpering because it was so dark and there was no one coming to help, whimpering because my mother was back in the crushed car, not moving, and my father was lying here in the dirt, not answering me, not holding me, not comforting me, not helping my mother get out of the car, and there was blood, so much blood, and broken glass everywhere, and it was so dark and so cold and no one was coming to help.
And the bad guys love to pick on the defenseless necromancer. This time, though, I swear I won’t get kidnapped or possessed. ~Jaime Vegas
Derek picked the spot? Had he been hoping I'd be blinded by the morning sun and stumble off the edge?
He was tall and scrawny with a face that could be mistaken with Keith Richards on a bad day.
We'll meet you here. Hopefully everyone will be in human form." A wry smile. "Though I'll warn you, he's not a whole lot more pleasant that way. At least as a wolf, he can't talk.
Oh, my God! It's a killer Pomeranian." I glanced up at Derek. "It's a tough call, but I think you can take him.
A name is so important. A surname connects you to your past, to your family. Even a given name has meaning - why did your parents pick that particular one?
Wow. The guy can make me feel stupid even when he's telling me I don't have to let him make me feel stupid.
There are just as many bitches out there as bastards. Equal opportunity asshole-ism.
Sometimes humans hit on a moment of profundity more complete than their dim minds could comprehend, and they took that nugget of truth and dumped it in the refuse for the bards and the poets to find, and mangle into yodeling paeans of love.
Another werewolf thing. Like most animals, we spent a large part of our lives engaged in the three Fs of basic survival. Feeding, fighting and... reproduction.
My past was a private obstacle, not a public excuse.
No", Tori said, " I kidnapped her and forced her to escape with me. I've been using her as a human shield against those guys with guns, and I was just about to strangle her and leave her body here to throw them off my trail. But then you showed up and foiled my evil plans. Lucky for you, though. You get to rescue chloe again and win her undying grattitude.
Bingo pup. It's a lesson best learned early. They're all afraid of us." He strolled over to Derek. "You're trying to be a good kid, aren't you? You think that'll show them they're wrong. So how'd that working out for you? Guess what? They don't care. To them, you're a monster, and nothing you do--or don't do--will change their minds. My advice? Give 'em what they want. It's a short, brutal life." He smiled. "Live it up." Derek stared straight ahead, patiently waiting. "He can't hear a word I'm saying, can he?" Liam said. "Nope.
I'd seen more cops in the last few days than on a weekend LAW and ORDER marathon" - Paigne Winterbourne
Picture a place called the Karma Kafe and it'll save me the bother of describing it. There was nothing in it you wouldn't expect, from the Buddha flowerpots to the wallpaper decorated with symbols that probably said, "If you bought this just because it looked pretty, may Buddha piss in your coffee, you culturally ignorant moron.
You're telling me that you can raise the dead by simply summoning?" "Yes." "My God," she whispered, staring at me."What have they done?" Hearing her words and seeing her expression, I knew I'd just done something worse than raising the dead-- I'd confirmed her worst fears about us. In her eyes, I saw the same thing I saw when people looked at Derek. I saw fear. And I knew we were in trouble.
If it gets too bad, go. I’ll understand.” I won’t.
I leaned forward and kissed him. His eyes widened, then his lips parted and he kissed me back, mouth warm and firm against mine and that floating feeling washed over me and through me, and it was so amazing that when it ended, I just stayed there, my face so close to his I could feel his breath, see those incredible amber eyes, and that was all I could see, all I wanted to see.
What's wrong?" I didn't say a word." Something's up. What is it?" Nothing." His head turned, gaze going to mine. "Yeah?" Yes." A snort and he returned to his bowl.
Simon had drawn three pictures. In the top left corner, like a salutation, was a ghost. The middle had a big sketch of Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Terminator. The third in place of a signature, was a lightning bolt surrounded by fog. Beside the drawing, someone had scrawled in inch-high letters 10 A.M. Tori snatched it from me and turned it over. "So where's the message?" "Right there." I pointed from picture to picture. "It says: Chloe, I'll be back, Simon.
You know children, always playing with the forces of darkness.
And stop doing that,” he said. “Backing away, giving me that look.” Like you’re scaring me? Maybe you are.” He stepped back so fast he wobbled and caught himself, and the look on his face—It vanished in a second, the scowl returning. I’d never hurt you, Chloe. You should know—” He stopped. Paused. Then wheeled and started walking away. “Next time? Handle it yourself. I’m done taking care of you.
A stereotype becomes a stereotype when a significant percentage of the population appears to conform to it.
All I could think about was him, and how much I wanted this, and how incredibly lucky I was to get it, and how tight I was going to hold onto it.
Rae burned me. She has matches or something. Look, look..." Tori pulled down the collar of her T-shirt. "Leave your cloths on, Tori," Simon said, raising his hands to his eyes. "Please.
I opted for the rear door, both as a courtesy and so she couldn't freak out about me showing up on her front doorstep for all of East Falls to see. Being the village pariah does make social calls most trying. -Paige
What's next? If there are vampires in there, they probably drink artificial blood plasma substitute.
You guys are weird," Tori said. Simon sat on the crate beside me. "That's right. We are totally weird and completely uncool. Your popularity is plummeting just by being near us.
I glanced up to see Liz and smiled. "Thank you." "I just went along for the ride. After that happened-" She waved at Derek. "You know how blind people need Seeing Eye dogs? Well, apparently werewolves could really use Opening Door poltergeists.
He balled up my discarded sweatshirt and put it against his shoulder. “Go on,” he said. “I don’t bite.” “And from what I hear, that’s a good thing.” He gave a rumbling chuckle. “Yeah, it is.” I leaned against his shoulder.
Here I had a wonderful man who cared for me and I was screwing around with a self-absorbed, conniving monster who'd betrayed me in the worst possible way.
You bat your baby blues at tall, dark, and gruesome, and next thing you know, he's trailing you like a lost puppy.
Young writers need to be encouraged to write - just write - with no restrictions on form, style or content.
He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt and had stopped in the middle of the hall, furiously scratching one bare forearm. "Fleas?" I said.
I'm behind you." I spun to see Derek. "I can't win," he said. "You're as skittish as a kitten.
Tell me when you want to pick it up again." "Tell me when Satan starts a snowball fight." "I'll do that. Lunch?
First you buy me a mocha. Then you let me help you hide a body. Now you take me to a biker clubhouse. Best. Day. Ever.
The show's writers had peppered the piece with words like "savage," "wild," and "animalistic." What bullshit. Show me the animal that kills for the thrill of watching something die. Why does the stereotype of the animalistic killer persist? Because humans like it. It neatly explains things for them, moving humans to the top of the evolutionary ladder and putting killers down among mythological man-beast monsters like werewolves. The truth is, if a werewolf behaved like this psychopath it wouldn't be because he was part animal, but because he was still too human. Only humans kill for sport.
I'm suprised he doesn't send Christmas cards," Antonio said. "I can see them now. Tasteful, embossed veilum cards, the best he can steal. Little notes in perfect penmanship,"Happy holidays. Hope everyone is well. I sliced up Ethan Ritter in Miami and scattered his remains in the Atlantic. Best wishes for the new year. Karl.
How long could we do this before you started bitching?" Simon said as we turned down another street of apartment buildings. "What?" "We've been walking for two days now, and you haven't complained once. It's damned annoying, you know." I looked at him. "If you don't complain, then I can't complain. Not without sounding like a whiny little snot.
I've spent the last decade learning to stand firm and face my problems… or at least batter them until they're unrecognizable.
If you say ‘we’re in this together,’ I’m going to hurl.
I was very strict on that point. No devouring classmates." Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Other parents warn their kids not to talk to strangers. I had to warn mine not to eat them.
Reviews are great. I can read negative reviews and say, You know that point they made... they were dead on.
I could shave my head and wear a sackcloth and still get a whole lot of ghostly wrong numbers. Makes me wonder if there’s some kind of ghost-necro porn industry down there. ~Jaime Vegas
You'll wrest a burning sword from an angel, but you're afraid of bats?" "I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them. They're...furry. Flying things shouldn't be furry. It's not right. And if I ever meet the Creator, I'm taking that one up with him." "That I'd like to see. Your one and possible only chance to get the answer to every question in the universe, and you ask, 'Why are bats furry?'" "I will. You just wait.
He was trying to tell me something.' Derek snorted. 'Aren’t they all? Must be a rule in the ghost handbook—if in danger of evaporating, make sure you’re in the middle of a dire pronouncement.
Derek lunged. He hit me in the shoulder and knocked me to the floor, landing on top of me. His body jerked, like he'd been hit with the spell, and I let out a yelp, struggling to get up, but he held me down, whispering "I'm okay, it's okay" until the words penetrated.
Umm, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you suppose to be dead? Currently being chased by two Cabals? You're waltzing around Vancouver, eating in restaurants?" (Ash)"Hell no," Corey said. "I never waltz. I do the fox-trot sometimes though.
Maybe my expectations for honesty are too high.
Hunting humans for sport? Eating them?" the bitterness in his voice cut through me. "Yeah, I caught that part." "That doesn't have anything to do with you? He lifted his eyes, gaze shuttered. "No?" "Not unless being a werewolf transforms you into a wolf AND a redneck moron.
Common courtesy dictates that we never drain the lifeblood of anyone to whom we've been formally introduced.
Great. So if I saw a guy standing still, and he wasn't wearing an old uniform, I just had to ask him to walk through furniture. If he stared at me like I was crazy, then I'd know he wasn't a ghost. - Chloe
I had to take responsibility, even if it meant saying no to an authority figure, because I was the authority on me.
Dad!" he shouted, loud enough to make my ears ring. "Dad! You need to get down here!" (Derek) Chloe held open the door and whispered to me, "I could say he's not always like this, but I'd be lying.
He pivoted, gaze following me as I crossed to the shower and turned on the cold water, so it would drown out our conversation without steaming up the room. Great," he muttered."Now they're going to think we're showering together. Maybe we can just tell them we were washing off the crawl space dirt and trying to conserve water.
Do I pass, Dr. Saunders?
Antonio- "Just in time, Pete. Five more minutes of reading this and she'd have been in a coma." Peter- "Are we such bad company that you'd rather hide out in here reading that old thing?
One of the first lessons a necromancer learns is the art of playing dumb. Of course, one problem with playing dumb is that is seeps into your everyday life. ~Jaime Vegas
What am I? Let's just say I won't fetch a stick for you. I won't beg for treats. And, no matter how nicely you ask, I will not roll over and play dead.
Remembering. Forgetting. I'm not sure which is worse.
Demon, angel, all the same thing if you go back far enough, or cut deep enough.
So I was right, wasn't I? It's still you, even in wolf form.' He grunted. No sudden uncontrollable urges to go kill something?' He rolled his eyes. Hey, you're the one who was worried.' I paused. 'And I don't smell like dinner, right?' I got a real look for that one. Just covering all the bases.
I could only stare, any sense that maybe I understood him evaporating as it always did. I'd glimpse something underneath, and he'd snatched it away so fast it left bruises that called me a fool for hoping for more.
And unless I'm remembering it wrong, mermaids don't sing and sirens don't swim." "Ariel sang in 'The Little Mermaid'," Corey said. Sam came over to join us. "Do I even want to know why you remember her name?
Ooh, big day in town for our park warden,” I said. “They’re even making you wear the uniform. Hayley’s mom will be happy. She thinks you look hot in it.” Dad turned as red as his hair. Mom’s laugh floated out from her studio. “Maya Delaney. Leave your father alone.
Yes, I can talk and think at the same time. Most people can, though I suppose you wouldn't know that from personal experience. Elena (Bitten)
Derek caught my arm again as I started to move--at this rate, it was going to be as sore as my injured one. "Dog," he said, jerking his chin toward the fenced yard. "It was inside earlier." Expecting to see a Doberman slavering at the fence, I followed his gaze to a little puff of white fur, the kind of dog women stick in their purses. It wasn't even barking, just staring at us, dancing in place. "Oh, my God! It's a killer Pomeranian." I glanced up at Derek. "It's a tough call, but I think you can take him.
I thought you were all-seeing.” All-knowing, not all-seeing!” he snapped. “I’m a God, not Santa Claus!
I might be half Derek's size, but I was the one who sounded like a two-hundred-pound beast plowing through the woods.
When you accept a leadership role, you take on extra responsibility for your actions toward others.
One second he was in my face, making me feel stupid and useless. The next he was like this: hovering, concerned, worried.
there are risks you'll take for yourself because you know that if your plan goes wrong, it'll be too late for regrets. but if you risk the lives of others and fail, you'll have a lifetime to regret it.
I was...a journalist...though my typical beat was freelancing articles on Canadian politics, which never included any mention of demonic phenomena, though it might explain the rise of the neoconservatives.
And now we can't," I said. "Which sucks, but the main thing is that your dad's alive." He smiled, hesitant at first, then a blazing grin broke through that made my heart stop. I recovered and grinned back and went to throw my arms around his neck, then stopped, blushing. Before I could pull back, he caught my elbows and put my arms around his neck and pulled me into a hug. Then he jumped, chair swiveling so fast I nearly went flying. I heard footsteps in the hall and I scrambled off his lap just as Simon swung in, breathing heavily, like he'd come running.
Could you please put this--could you all put these--could you get dressed, please?" The woman only bestowed a serene smile on me. "We are as the Goddess requires." "The Goddess requires you to be naked on my lawn?
What I was doing when I was creating my werewolves is really basing them on a wild wolf pack, as much as possible. It's not as if being bitten brings you in, but what it does is that it strengthens that instinct for pack. It strengthens that instinct to need to be with others who are like you, and to form tight bonds, as an actual wolf pack does.
He liked women with little butts and big tits? Someone had played with one too many barbie dolls as a kid.
Nuh-uh. No deals with the devil. I’ve learned my lesson on that one. ~Jaime Vegas
no' when no one answered, Derek looked from face to face, then settled his glower in me. 'absolutely not.' 'um, I was the one keeping my mouth shut' I said.
Let’s just say that being able to contact ghosts makes for some very interesting ménages á trios… and ménages á quartre, and ménages á … whatever five is in French. ~Jaime Vegas
Isn't it possible that I'm not feigning interest? That I really do want to know more about you?" "You've never been interested in me before." "You've never been interesting before." -Cassandra and Paige
We had one gun, one werewolf, one poltergeist, one supercharged spell-caster, one not-so-supercharged spell-caster, and one perfectly useless necromancer, though Liz was quick to remind me that she needed me to relay her words. - Chloe
Oh my God. You're a witch-hunter. I'm a witch. Hate to break it to you Daniel, but if you're a witch-hunter? You're doing it wrong." He gave me a sidelong smile. "Maybe it's not that kind of hunting." "Then you're definitely doing it wrong.
