No-pocket jeans are only slightly less irritating than thong underwear.
Patricia BriggsTag: clothes
But that was the trouble with ancient artifacts - no one really knew what they did.
Patricia BriggsTag: artifacts
Bran was stripping her futon down to the bare mattress when she entered her apartment. It was sort of like watching the president mowing the White House lawn or taking out the trash.
Patricia Briggs¡ Hijo de chihuahua !
Patricia BriggsTag: insult-to-a-werewolf
Dont let the bastards grind you down?" Bran looked at me incredulously.
Patricia BriggsTag: funny-italian
So in the sweltering heat of a July night, I sang a Christmas carol to a room full of fae, who had been driven out of their homelands by Christians and their cold-iron swords.
Patricia BriggsTag: paranormal urban-fantasy
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.
I don’t fool you, do I? Those others”—he waved a vague hand to indicate their
missing comrades—“they think I’m all that—but you know better, don’t you.”
“Know what?” she’d asked.
He leaned forward, smelling of beer and cigarettes. “You know I’m a fraud. I can
feel the beast inside me, screaming to get out. And if I loose it, it will pull me up to greatness despite myself.”
“So why not let it free?” She hadn’t been a werewolf then. The world had been a gentler place, the monsters safely in their closets, and she had been brave in her ignorance.
His eyes were old and weary, his voice slurring a bit. “Because then everyone would
see,” he told her.
“See what?”
“Me.
Such a small thing to cause so much trouble.
Patricia BriggsTag: mercy adam magic-made silver-borne
His heart's occupied elsewhere," said Ben from behind me. "And even if it weren't he's not interested in your kind. But, I'm available and ready."
"You don't have a heart," I told him. "Just a gaping hole where it should have been."
"All the more reason for you to give me yours."
I pounded my forehead against Warren 's back. "Tell me Ben's not flirting with me."
"Hey," said Ben sounding hurt. "I was talking cannibalism, not romance.
Tag: banter
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