Storm's Heart

You’re not as sexy as I think you are.” She squinted. Wait. That hadn’t come out right.

He had come for her. He had promised everything was going to be okay, and he had come for her, and he had looked so crazy-sexy. No, monstrous. No, sexy. Oh damn.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda. They were the Three Stooges of regret. All they were good for was saying whoop-whoop-whoop and smacking each other over the head.

The shackles." She stirred. "Aryal has both sets of chains, and the key," she told him, muffled against his skin. "She swears she'll find a way to destroy them. She's saying 'My Precious' a lot and talking about dropping them into a volcano.

My give-a-shit button's broken. You're my boy, and I say no. Rune to Tiago

Do you know how irritating you are?” she said. “Because if you don’t, I’ve got time.

Never send a harpy on a mission of diplomacy.

Tiago decided he enjoyed armchair warfare. It was so comfortable, and there were pastries.

Dude, you ever taste harpy’s blood? We’re rarer than shit so I’m betting not. Want to go out for a drink sometime? If you put out, I might let you have a sip.

Oh, I don’t want to pat you on the head, faerie,” he said low in his throat in a deep purring growl that vibrated through her body. He bent closer until his lips brushed hers. “I want to fuck your mouth.

Get back over here so I can smack you.” “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

I said I want to fuck your mouth, first with my tongue"-he licked her lower lip-"and then with my finger, and then with my cock. Maybe that will shut you up." ~Tiago

I don't know all the answers. Nobody does; nobody can. Take hold of this, Niniane. Take hold of me, and don't let go for anything.

He gagged and spat the mouthful out on the carpet. He glared at the bottle. “Bubble gum–flavored vodka? Bubble gum?

All of Dragos’s sentinels were mean and barbaric and sexy. Even that weird harpy-bitch Aryal, who she might have a teensy girl crush on. You know, in a totally hetero kind of way.

Trying to care about that,” he said. He cocked his head and widened his eyes. “Huh. I guess I’m not managing it.

Her compact, curvaceous body was laid out like some kind of offering to a pagen god. As someone who had once been a pagen god, he knew what he was talking about . . .

You keep picking me up and carting me around,” she muttered. “You know, when I’m not injured or drunk on my ass, I do have two perfectly functional feet.” “You are just so magnificently portable,” he told her.

Don’t pull that manipulative sex kitten shit on me”…”but what if I am a manipulative sex kitten shit?

I like pink lipstick…and pretty shoes..... Much to my surprise, I find that I do too.

Aryal yawned. She had stretched out on the floor, her long legs crossed at the ankle. She said in a drowsy voice, “I could start bitch-slapping people. Sooner or later somebody would squawk.

Maybe it was time to get cute. Her lower lip stuck out and her forehead wrinkled. In a small uncertain voice, she said, “Sowwy?

She cradled his head and bowed over him, wiping her damp cheeks with one hand. "We're so different from each other." "We live a long time. It's good to not be bored.

What did okay mean to the harpy— not coughing up arterial blood?

He had looked so crazy, sexy. No, monstrous. No, sexy. Oh damn.

When it was her turn to say good-bye, Aryal said, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Niniane opened and closed her mouth. She said, "I have no idea how to respond to that.

Holy cow. She actually managed to get in two good, solid hits in a row. The sentinels were going to be high-fiving each other at her funeral.

Assume you will make enemies. Work to make allies. Don't expect to make friends. Friends are a gift that happens over time.

Who knew that the Wyr warlord’s real animal form was a mother hen?

Pia, you’re a bitch. Thank you.