They met at Woodstock, and their love lasted a lifetime. Heartbroken but determined he calls on his two best friends to help him return to where it all began. One last roadtrip. One last chance to say Good-bye, Emily
Michael MurphyYou're perfectly safe. Emily is here to protect your virtue." "That's too bad.
Kady CrossTag: virtue emily griffin finley
Where the frick are you?! I’ve been frickin’ driving all frickin’ around this stupid frickin’ city all frickin’ day trying to find the frickin’ hotel because apparently frickin’ Emily doesn’t know where the frick it is either.
Melanie FairTag: emily monica wolves-among-sheep
Tammy, I hunt mythical monsters for a living. Try me.
Melanie FairTag: hunter emily mythical-creatures wolves-among-sheep tammy
Tammy, werewulves act in ways that are pleasing only to themselves. They behave without a conscious... They are sick monsters who have permanently lost their self-control. Their intentions and motivations are never clear; they slaughter flocks and herds yet eat nothing. They are the quintessence of evil, hence the title “demon”. And who really wants demons around?
Melanie FairTag: hunter emily werewolves wolves-among-sheep tammy
I forgot for a second that he was my ancestral enemy, and felt bad for him; then i consoled myself that bird poop brings good luck
Rob RegerTag: funny luck emily bird-poop
I'm too much of a coward to kill myself. And too much of a coward to live
Jodi PicoultHe also knew that whenever he recalled her kissing his cheek with such unqualified trust and acceptance, it was going to ache just a little in the vicinity of his heart.
It ached now.
Tag: emily lee-coburn
Carter was so taken aback by her attack he dropped his knife. “You knocked him stupid,” he bellowed.
“No,” Emily corrected in what she believed was a reasonable tone of voice. “He was already stupid. I knocked him out.
She was born as music–a single, mellow note suspended in the air. Suspended as if strung from nothing, held into possibilities of sound. Her clear note hung a lone, sweet tone in the midst of us all; as silence captured its ache and tenderly, reluctantly released it, dipped it lower into a breath of melancholy only to lift again to its earlier height both rich and real and complete–one solitary note swaying into the early dawn.
Emily arrived in the cold, grey hours of the newborn year, between the breathing dark and the pearl, winter light. A child of the dawn, before dawn broke.
Tag: emily delicate child-of-the-dawn
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