The good and the bad. It always happens together, and all you can do is press on. Press on.

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés inspirational

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I've got a black-belt in crazy, and I know where you live.

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés humor

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He was a hot, hot former priest and she wanted to pull a Thorn Birds on his ass.

Marjorie M. Liu

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Moscow was, as some said, the most beautiful mistress a man could ever want, but never cross her: like any good woman, she might just cut off your balls for the hell of it.

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés moscow

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...she kept hoping Mulder and Scully would kiss each other well and good. Having a relationship vicariously through fantasy and excellent scripting was all Aggie had at the moment - and to be honest, it wasn't all that bad. Her imagination was always better than reality...

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés x-files

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Any of those priests even sniff at you wrong, you fuck them over until they see Jesus.

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés grant maxine

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Expect the unexpected, my mother once said. Because the unexpected most certainly will be expecting you.

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés inspirational-attitude

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Now, here. The Warlord sent a likeness of himself.”
Sally frowned, but leaned in for a good long stare. “He looks like a dirty fingerprint.”
“Of course he doesn’t,” replied her father, squinting at the portrait. “You can see his eyes, right there.”
“I thought those were his nostrils.”
“Well, you’re not going to be picky, are you? At least he has a face.”
“Yes,” Sally replied dryly. “What a miracle.

Marjorie M. Liu

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Maxine,” Grant said, but I barely heard him. I was lost in that vision, in those emotions—the pain, and hunger for pain, forming the root of so much
agonized rage.
“ ‘Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate,’” I muttered.
“Yoda, from Star Wars?”
“ ‘Hate leads to suffering.’” I met his gaze. “Yoda knows his shit, man.”
Grant’s mouth crooked in a gentle smile.

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés humor fantasy dark-fantasy hunter-kiss reaper-kings

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I listened to the wind bury winter; and when I tasted his grace, his grace had no name; only, night became something else in his presence, as though darkness had a soul, here, swaying to heartbeats roaring.

Marjorie M. Liu

Mots clés oturu

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