Karen Marie Moning quotes:

Last night you said you wanted to know what to expect so you could better select your attire. I told you we were going to visit a vampire in a Goth-den tonight. Why, then, Ms. Lane, do you look like a perky rainbow?

I was in Cancun, Mexico, sitting in a disappearing-edge swimming pool, on a bar stool that was actually under the water, watching palm trees sway in a sultry breeze against the unmistakable aqua splendor of the Caribbean Sea; drinking coconut, lime, and tequila from a scooped-out pineapple, with salt spray of breaking surf and sun kissing my skin. Translation: I'd died and gone to heaven.

Oh, for heaven's sake, she thought with droll exasperation, this certainly explains a lot. It's no wonder I haven't been able to keep my hands off the blasted man since the day I met him. He's an artifact! A Celtic one at that!

Gwen smiled. "Hardly. Bedraggled is being in the full throes of nicotine withdrawal, and after a week on a bus with a group of senior citizens, falling into a cave, and landing on a body." "And then getting tossed back a few centuries, with no idea of what's going on," Chloe agreed. "Naked, too, weren't you?" Gwen nodded wryly. Gabby blinked. "I gave you my plaid," Drustan protested indignantly.

If I entered a tropical beach, would I end up in Nazi Germany with my highly inconvenient black hair?

I can see you are a fine lady, but this boy is randy as a goat around you and it's plain to see. If he seeks the joys of wedded bliss, he can wed you. Without a weddin' he'll be havin' no bliss.

I've tried to move [the sidhe-seers] during times of peace and quiet and had the luck of a broken mirror nailed beneath an upside-down horseshoe with a ladder nearby that a black cat just walked under.

And then what? Said, 'Oh, I'm so sorry, Ms. Lane, I didn't mean to wrinkle your lovely blouse. May I press that for you?' Or perhaps you gouged it with one of your pretty pink nails?" I was really beginning to wonder what his hang-up with pink was, but I didn't resent the sarcasm in his voice.

His heavy-lidded gaze reflected a languor that had nothing to do with having just awakened, and there was no doubt what was on his mind. But this is no safe cherry picker, Gwen thought, growing more concerned by the moment. This man looks like a cherry tree chopper-downer.

Basque and Celt. Criminals and barbarians. I didn't think there could be a more primitive pairing of genes.

If he'd been any other man and i'd been any other girl, I'd have called the narrowing of his heavy-lidded dark eyes lust. But he was Barrons and I was Mac, and a blossoming of lust was about as likely as orchids blooming in Antarctica

Barrons breaks heads. Ryodan turns them inside out. Barrons fucks you up. Ryodan makes you fuck yourself up. He pushes buttons and rearranges things according to his own private, coolly sociopathic plan.

Sighing dismally, she acknowledged that some things just weren't humanly possible - not even Martha Stewart could fold fitted sheets."

I know part of what turns me on so hard, makes me so violent with lust, is that he's dangerous. I fell for the bad guy. I'm crazy about the one who's trouble. The alpha that doesn't play well with others and doesn't take orders from anyone.

Dying is overrated. Human sentimentality has twisted it into the ultimate act of love. Biggest load of bullshit in the world. Dying for someone isn't the hard thing. The man that dies escapes. Plain and simple. Game over. End of pain...Try living for someone. Through it all-good, bad, thick, thin, joy, suffering. That's the hard thing.

Almost only counts in hand grenades and horseshoes.

Unbelievable," I heard Christian mutter behind me. "She toops them both?" I head Drustan ask. "And they permit it?" Dageus sounded baffled. I looked between V'lane and Barrons. "This isn't even about me." "You're wrong about that." Barrons reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "You know how to find me if you want me." He was walking away. "More nifty acronyms?" He was gone.

I'm not the hero, Mac. Never have been. Never will be. Let us be perfectly clear: I'm not the antihero, either, so quit waiting to discover my hidden potential. There's nothing to redeem me.

I must be dreaming. Bring that sweet ass over here and I'll show you what God made women and well-hung Scotsmen for.

He gives me a look. I'm not even looking at him and I can feel it.

Lust is a thing of the blood. Doesn't need head or heart.

Unbelievable," I heard Christian mutter behind me"She toops them both?" I head Drustan ask"And they permit it?" Dageus sounded baffled. I looked between V'lane and Barrons"This isn't even about me." "You're wrong about that." Barrons reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone"You know how to find me if you want me." He was walking away"More nifty acronyms?" He was gone.

Basque and Celt. Criminals and barbarians. I didn't think there could be a more primitive pairing of genes."

Holy borrowing bibliophile, let's book!

The entire time I'm burning in Hell, I'll regret each tear I made you weep. But if Hell were the price for twenty days with you, I'd condemn myself again and again. - Cian MacKeltar

His coworker was velvety-skinned, a sexy boy-on-the-cusp-of man.

A fecking flamethrower! Why didn't I think of that? Best I came up with was a measly hair dryer.

And now she was just Gabby, currently staying in a dreamy, magnificent castle in Scotland with a Fae prince who did all kinds of non-nasty, non-inhuman things like tearing up lists of names, and returning tadpoles to lakes, and saving people's lives. Not to mention kissing with all the otherwordly splendor of a horny angel."

He'd made her feel what Barrons made me feel. Bigger than I could possibly be, larger than life, on fire with possibilities, ecstatic to be breathing, impatient for the next moment together. She'd been happy in those last months, so alive and happy."

Burns from dropped matches, Ms. Lane? Matches one might have dropped while flirting with a perniciousFae, Ms. Lane? Have you any idea the value of this rug?"I didn't think his nostrils could flare any wider. His eyes were black flamePernicious? Good grief, is Englishyour second language? Third?" Only someone who'd learned English from a dictionary would use such a word."Fifth," he snarledAnswer me."

Sit," Chloe said, dashing after him and tugging firmly at his sleeve. "Let's hear the rest of it. You can kill him later." ~Chloe to Dageus.

She's too young. Too innocent. Too human. For what I'm becoming.

I think dating courtesies are common courtesies that should be practiced in most all civilized encounters. I pine for the days of good, old-fashioned manners.

We are not perfect. What god is Examine yours. According to your mythos he was so disappointed with his initial efforts creating your race that he tried again. At least we imprisoned our mistakes. Your god permits his to roam free. At a mere few thousand years old your creation myths are far more absurd than ours.

Nobody looks good in their darkest hours. But it's those hours that make us what we are.

Born in a generation that thinks cynical and disenchanted is cool, sometimes I'm a little off the beaten track.

I can smell you, Ms. Lane," he said, even more softly. "The only blood on you is from your veins, not your womb." My head whipped to the left and I stared at him. Ok, that was one of the more disturbing things he'd ever said to me.

It's just that in the Deep South, women learn at a young age that when the world is falling apart around you, it's time to take down the drapes and make a new dress.

Think you two puny Druids can hold this keep for a single night?

Superglue after duct tape a girl's best friend.

Valhalla on the right. Paradise regained on the left. Stuck between a Godiva truffle and a chocolate eclair. Between a rock and a very hard place. Two very hard places from the looks of it.

Barrons has something the rest of us don't have. I don't know what it is, but I feel it all the time, especially when we're standing close. Beneath the expensive clothes, unplaceable accent, and cultured veneer, there's something that never crawled all the way out of the swamp. It didn't want to. It likes it there.

Tuatha De do not walk the human realm alone. Actually, they don't walk alone much anywhere. Only the occasional rogue Fae will do so." "Like yourself?" "Yes Most of my kind have no fondness for solitude. Those who walk alone are not to be trusted." "Really," she said dryly. "Except for me," he amended, with a faint, insouciant grin.

And now she was just Gabby, currently staying in a dreamy, magnificent castle in Scotland with a Fae prince who did all kinds of non-nasty, non-inhuman things like tearing up lists of names, and returning tadpoles to lakes, and saving people's lives. Not to mention kissing with all the otherwordly splendor of a horny angel.

I always thought fainting showed an inherent weakness of character, but I understood it now. It was an act of self-preservation. Confronted by emotion too extreme to handle, the body shuts down to keep from running around like a chicken with its head cut off, potentially injuring itself.

He pulls me around and kisses me. "You're Mac," he says. "And I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters. Never will. You exist in a place that is beyond all rules for me. Do you understand that?" I do. Jericho Barrons just told me he loves me.

Jericho Barrons was my poison now.

Unpredictable as a hungry lion, he might be feared by everyone else, but he never ripped out my throat, only licked me, and, if his tongue was a little rough sometimes, it was worth it to walk beside the king of the jungle.

I wondered what one wore to visit a vampire. The chic red sweater set didn't go so well with my darker hair, and I was afraid it might be construed as a flirtatious invitation to color me bloodier.

Don't accuse me of being morbid when I'm merely the product of a culture that buries the bones of the ones they love in pretty, manicured flower gardens so they can keep them nearby and go talk to them whenever they feel troubled or depressed. That's morbid. Not to mention bizarre. Dogs bury bones, too.

Dubh is do?" I was incredulous. It was no wonder I hadn't been able to find the stupid word. "Should I be calling pubs poos?" "Dubh is Gaelic, Ms. Lane. Pub is not.

I began to cry. Barrons looked horrified. "Stop that immediately, Ms. Lane." "I can't." I sniffeled into my cup pf cocoa so he couldn't see my face. "Try harder!" I gave a great sniff and shudder, and turned it off. "I have not been her lover for...some time," he offered, watching me carefully. "Oh, get over yourself!

You want to believe in black and white, good and evil, heroes that are truly heroic, villains that are just plain bad, but I've learned in the past year that things are rarely so simple. The good guys can do some truly awful things, and the bad guys can sometimes surprise the heck out of you.

Barrons laughed again. "And there, my dear Fio, you make one of Womankind's greatest mistakes: Falling in love with a man's potential. We so rarely share the same view of it, and even more rarely care to achieve it. Stop pining for the man you think I could be -- and take a good, long, hard look at the one I am.

As his other hand began to slip around her waist, his body brushed against hers, and there was no mistaking the thick, hard ridge grazing her jean-clad bottom. Heavens, did that thing never subside? The rest of him might be mortal, but his immortal erection certainly didn't scan to have gotten the memo.

Just one time before I turn into the villain of this piece, just one time before I become the fourth and final Unseelie prince, I want to be her Highlander. And her hero.

He had a come-and-get-me-baby-I'm-pure-trouble-and-you're-gonna-love-it kind of attitude.

You're not falling for me, are you, Irish?" -Adam to Gabrielle

How dare the embodiment of her worst nightmare come packaged as her hottest fantasy?

There should be a vaccine against Adam Black. And all women should be given it at birth.

That part of his body was simply uncontrollable, apparently functioning in accordance to a single law of nature: She existed--he got a hard-on.

Hope strengthens. Fear kills[...] That simple adage is master of every situation, every choice. Each morning we wake up, we get to choose between hope and fear and apply one of those emotions to everything we do. Do we greet things that come our way with joy? Or suspicion?

I'm sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but everybody's does, and you go on. It's how you go on that defines you.

Abruptly, she knew that after this night she was never going to be the same again. Nothing was ever going to be the same. Oh, yes, the man could define himself as the dawning of an epoch if he wanted to. There was, quite simply, before Adam and after Adam.

Time heals. No, it doesn't. At best, time is the great leveler, sweeping us all into coffins. We find ways to distract ourselves from the pain. Time is neither scalpel nor bandage. It is indifferent. Scar tissue is not a good thing. It is merely the wound's other face.

Jericho Barrons just told me he loves me.

You're Mac, and I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters.

Barrons, Jericho: I haven't the faintest fecking clue. He keeps saving my life. I suppose that's something.

Jericho." "Mac." "Thank you for saving my life. Again.

Four: If you try to force yourself into my head, I will force myself into your pants.

We're translating the Kama Sutra," Barrons said, with interactive aids.

... You have me in your mouth, you don't get anybody else. Or you don't get me." - Jericho Barrons

-I'm going to kill the kid. - Barrons says faintly. Ryodan makes a burbling sound like a bodly laught. -Get in line

Nobody home but She for Whom I Am the World. Can't go on like this, can't keep doing it.- Jericho Barrons

Since the moment I laid eyes on Jericho Barrons, I wanted him. I wanted him to do things to me that pink and clueless MacKayla Lane was shocked and appalled and ... okay, yeah, well, utterly fascinated to find herself thinking about.

Sometimes, Ms. Lane," he said, "one must break with one's past to embrace one's future. It is never an easy thing to do. It is one of the distinguishing characteristics between survivors and victims. Letting go of what was, to survive what is.

My heart has jet lag.

Safety is a fence, and fences are for sheep. I would rather die at twenty-two, knowing the truth, then live in a cage of lies for a hundred years.

You're leaving me, Rainbow Girl.

He closes his hand around mine and I hold on. I like his hand. It's big and holds easy but sure. It's the kind of hold that says, I got you if you want me, but I'll let you go if you feel like running for a while.

His face was in my neck and he was breathing hard. Was he grieving me? Already? Would he miss me? Had I, in some tiny way, come to matter to this enigmatic, hard, brilliant, obsessed man? I realised he'd come to matter to me. Good or evil, right or wrong, he mattered to me...

I have studied humans for a small eternity. Intent infuses their every movement. Road maps to their inner navigation, plastered all over their skin. Born to be slaves.

Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things.

#NAME?

Churches crack me up. They're like money, a conspiracy of faith. Like everyone agreed to believe that not only is there a God, but he comes down and checks on folks, so long as they hang in certain places, put up alters, burn lots of candles and incense, and perform sit-stand-kneel and other wacky rituals that'd make a coven of witches not look OCD.

He goes for stark versus accessorized, dark over bright, jewel tone instead of pastel, carnal over flirty.

No matter how people try to dispute it, perception is reality. Its what you choose to believe that makes you the person you are.

You and I more than anyone else in the universe are perfect for each other.

Mom raised us to believe that every lie puts something out there in the world that's inevitably going to come back and bite you in the petunia.

If he were any other man, I might have suspected him of substance abuse, of being coked up or something. But Barrons was too much a purist for that; his drugs were money, power, and control

The power of thought is far greater than most people ever realize.

Some people fall apart when they get hurt. Puddle into apathy and despair and never recover. They wait all their lives for someone to come along and rescue them.

She's my baby girl, Quinn. I want love for her. Real love. The kind that makes a man crazy inside. -Gibraltar to Quinn

He kissed like no man she'd ever known. There was something about him, a rawness, an earthy sensuality that bordered on barbaric, something she'd never be able to explain to someone else. A woman had to be kissed by Dageus MacKeltar to fully understand how devastating it was. How it could bring a woman to her knees.

Life's not linear at all. It happens in lighting flashes. So fast you don't see those lay-you-out cold moments coming at you until you're Wile E. Coyote, steamrolled flat as a pancake by the Road Runner, victim of your own elaborate schemes.

He looked as if he'd stepped straight off the cover of one of those romance novels she ordered from Amazon.com so she didn't have to be embarassed by some supercilious male clerk in the bookstore.

Turn it off," Ryodan says without even looking at me. "You're distressing Dani. No one distresses Dani but me.

You'll never be just anything. A tsunami can never be just a wave (...) Waves are banal. Tsunamis reshape the Earth

The wound you refuse to dress is one that will never heal. You gush lifeblood and never even know why. It will make you weak at a critical moment when you need to be strong.

Some of us are born more than once. Some of us recreate ourselves many times. Ryodan says adaptability is survivability. Ryodan says a lot of stuff. Sometimes I listen, All I know is, every time I open my eyes, my brian kicks on. Something wakes up deep in my belly, and I know I'll do anything it takes... To. Just. Keep. Breathing.

I hammered him with my fists. He just stood and took it. He didn't suffer graciously, he looked pissed off to no end. But he let me hit him. And he didn't hit me back.

When he'd pushed inside me and I'd feel him begin to penetrate, it had turned me into a wild thing-hot, wet, and desperate for more of him. With every kiss, every caress, every thrust, I'd just needed more. He'd touched me, I went nuts. The world dwindled down to one thing: him.

I go inside my head and become that other me, the one I don't tell anybody about.The observer...I live in terror that one day I won't get to be Dani again.

It's our actions that define us. What we choose. What we resist. What we're willing to die for.

Oh, please," I rolled my eyes, "You're a leftie, Barrons.""Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmured.

Keeping vigil over her are two monsters of very different breeds but monster just the same.Death on her left.Devil on her right.

there are three kinds of people in the world: those who don't know and don't know they don't know; those who don't know and do know they don't know; and those who know and know how much they still don't know.

It's not enough to listen to their words. You have to mine their silences for buried ore. It's often only in the lies that we refuse to speak that truth can be heard at all.

It's funny how, when things seem the darkest, moments of beauty present themselves in the most unexpected places.

And there, my dear Fio, you make one of Womankind's greatest mistakes: falling in love with a man's potential. We so rarely share the same view of it, and even more rarely care to achieve it.

One day you do meet a man who kisses you and you can't breathe around it and you realize you don't need air.

He is my vulnerability

He was sexual in a way that made women think of deeply repressed fantasies therapists and feminists alike would cringe to hear tell of.

I am going to love you now, slow and sweet, but when you come, I'm going to f*** you the way I need to. The way I've been dreaming about since the moment I saw you.

Finally, Dageus finished, and she heard Gwen and Chloe say simultaneously, breathlessly, "Oh, my God."Gabby opened her eyes. Drustan had risen to his feet and was scowling, an expression mirrored by his twin. Both were glaring at Adam--whom they obviously could now see. Then at their wives, then back at Adam.

It's often only in the lies we refuse to speak that any truth can be heard at all.

One day you will kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence.

Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye.

You've mistaken me for someone else. Do not wait on me, Ms. Lane. Do not construct your world around mine. I'm not that man." "Screw you, Barrons." "I'm not that man, either.

Evil is a completely different creature, Mac. Evil is bad that believes it's good.