Of course he would count the time that we’d been two entirely different species.
She screamed, the high scream that was neither human nor animal but something terrible in between, the sort of sound that you never forget no matter how many beautiful things you hear afterward.
I just looked at her, feeling utterly empty. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to her. My life is in that bed. Please let me stay.
I’m bored. I need to be entertained. Sam is moping. I may kill him with his own guitar. It would give me something to do and also make him say something. Two birds with one stone!
Mom, you’re the one who said to never stop in case I get raped or picked up by a democrat.
I could live inside a G major chord, with Grace, if she was willing.
I loved you so much right then Sam Roth.
It was nothing, but it was Adam Parrish’s nothing. How he hated and loved it. How proud he was of it, how wretched it was.
Joseph Beringer…dances around behind me singing some poorly rhymed and slightly dirty song about my [racing] odds at my skirts. ‘I don’t even wear skirts,’ I snap at him. ‘Especially,’ he says, ‘in my daydreams.
My wolf was a cute guy and he was holding my hand. I could die happy.
I can tell you that as a writer and as a reader, I regard character as king. Or queen. No matter how riveting the action or interesting the plot twists, if I don’t feel like I’m meeting someone who feels real, I’m not going to be compelled to read further.
My hand aching because grace wasn’t underneath it 3!