She gave Samuel a stern look. "Now, I don't know what's going on between you and my daughter and Adam Hauptman—”
“Neither do we,” I muttered.
Samuel grinned. “We have it pretty well worked out as far as the sex goes—Adam gets it—someday—and I don’t. But the rest is still up for negotiation.”
“Samuel Cornick,” I sputtered in disbelief. “That is my mother.
We are none of us perfect, and...we learn to take these imperfections and make them only a small part of who we are
Patricia BriggsTag: bone-crossed
But you can't marry someone to fix him, even if you love them.
Patricia BriggsTag: fixing
You should be home sleeping. What is the use of having a man in the house, if he cannot take care of you for a while?”
“Mmm,” I said. “I give up. What's the use of having a man in the house?
I don't get mad, I get even.
Patricia BriggsZealots are one-trick ponies. They love nothing so much as their own cause. Don’t get in their way without expecting to be hurt.
Patricia BriggsTag: inspirational truth-telling practicality-for-intellectuals
Yes,” I told him. “I think the guy playing the Pirate King was awesome.”
He stopped where he was.
“What?” I asked, frowning at the big smile on his face.
“I didn’t say I liked the Pirate King,” he told me.
“Oh.” I closed my eyes—and there he was. A warm, edgy presence right on the edge of my perception. When I opened my eyes, he was standing right in front of me.
“Cool,” I told him. “You’re back.”
He kissed me leisurely. When he was finished, I was more than ready to head home. Fast.
“You make me laugh,” he told me seriously.
Tag: mercy adam mercedes-thompson adam-hauptman
Warren made a noise, the first one I'd heard out of him since we'd come into the room. I'd have been happier if he hadn't sounded scared.
"Easy, Warren," Adam told him. "You're safe here.”
"If you die on us, you won't be," said Kyle with a growl that would have done credit to any of the werewolves in the room.
Tag: friendship funny mercy-thompson
Then he snarled at her. “You are not leaving me.”
It was an order, and she didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders. That was part of being Omega instead of a regular werewolf – who might have had a snowball’s chance in hell of being a proper mate.
“You need someone stronger,” Anna told him again. “So you wouldn’t have to hide when you’re hurt. So you could trust your mate to take care of herself and help, damn it, instead of having to protect me from whatever you are hiding.” She hated crying. Tears were weaknesses that could be exploited and they never solved a damned thing. Sobs gathered in her chest like a rushing tide and she needed to get away from him before she broke.
Instead of fighting his grip, she tried to slide out of it. “I need to go,” she said to his chest. “I need–”
His mouth closed over hers, hot and hungry, warming her mouth as his body warmed her body.
“Me,” Charles said, his voice dark and gravelly as if it had traveled up from the bottom of the earth, his eyes a bright gold. “You need me.
When is the last time you were a tourist?” she asked archly.
He just looked at her. Charles, she had to agree, was not tourist material.
“Right,” Anna told him. “Buck up. You might even enjoy it.”
“You might as well have ‘hapless victim’ tattooed across your forehead,” he muttered.
Tag: tourist
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