Bargain Hunter Quotes

You’re the one who made the bargain with Apollymis that I have to live with. Personally, it irks the shit out of me to be traded like some Yu-Gi-Oh! card you got tired of having around the house. (Kat)

My knuckles go white as my grip on the porcelain tightens. Now I know what Desmond cashed that one particular bead in for. Sobriety. Forget the supernatural bounty hunters that are after him; that fucker is mine. That

In the back, there was a maze of used books. The shelves wound around and were full of other bargain hunters. I searched for the children’s section. Not only were these books generally less expensive, but most of the time, the words that adults need to hear the most are hidden in children’s books. The beauty of that is that most children need to have the words read to them. It works out for everyone.

Forget the supernatural bounty hunters that are after him; that fucker is mine.

The demon leaned in, the brim of his hat close enough to touch. “You think we are so different, but we are the same, Hunter. We are the raging hosts and the masters of the dead, and when we command men to follow, they obey. And so it is the men of the earth who kill and maim, like a flock of birds copper red with blood, while we dance upon this world as great and mighty shadows. But we are merely the sword, Hunter, and only the sword. We must have a heart to wield us. Those are the terms, and we keep our bargains.

Bulls rampaged through the corridor below like a crowd of Black Friday bargain hunters,

I’m stupid in love with you, Sailor Brennan. Will you have my dumb ass? Flaws included. No returns.” “Fourteen business days to return said butt, and I get my full heart back if your performance is not to my satisfaction.” I started bargaining with him on live television. This was what we did. We bantered. His eyes lit up with mischief. “You never complained about the performance during your free trial period.” “Meh.” I shrugged. “It was free. Paying for something with hearts and other organs is a completely different matter.” “Fine. I believe in my product. You got yourself a deal.” He stood up in front of me. I reached my hand between us to shake on it. He took it and jerked me up, engulfing me in his huge arms.

What trunk?" Velkan "My trunk. I'm moving in" Esperetta "In where?" Velkan "My room. Here." Esperetta Completely stunned and flabbgausted, he opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak. Esperetta walked over to him and placed her finger on his chin before she closed his mouth. "I know you dont trust me, but tough shit." "This is my home and you're my husband. I made a mistake and for that I'm sorry, but I'm through being an idiot." Esperetta "Dark-Hunters can't be married." Velkan "Well then, someone should have told Artemis before she made her bargain with you and brought me back to life, huh? You were created as a married Dark-Hunter. I hardly think they can complain now." Esperetta She did have a point about that "But--" Velkan She ended his words with a kiss.

How happily we explored our shiny new world! We lived like characters from the great books I curled up with in the big Draylon armchair. Like Jack Kerouak, like Gatsby, we created ourselves as we went along, a raggle-taggle of gypsies in old army overcoats and bell-bottoms, straggling through the fields that surrounded our granite farmhouse in search of firewood, which we dragged home and stacked in the living room. Ignorant and innocent, we acted as if the world belonged to us, as though we would ever have taken the time to hang the regency wallpaper we damaged so casually with half-rotten firewood, or would have known how to hang it straight, or smooth the seams. We broke logs against the massive tiled hearth and piled them against the sooty fire back, like the logs were tradition and we were burning it, like chimney fires could never happen, like the house didn't really belong to the poor divorcee who paid the rates and mortgage even as we sat around the flames like hunter gatherers, smoking Lebanese gold, chanting and playing the drums, dancing to the tortured music of Luke's guitar. Impelled by the rhythm, fortified by poorly digested scraps of Lao Tzu, we got up to dance, regardless of the coffee we knocked over onto the shag carpet. We sopped it up carelessly, or let it sit there as it would; later was time enough. We were committed to the moment. Everything was easy and beautiful if you looked at it right. If someone was angry, we walked down the other side of the street, sorry and amused at their loss of cool. We avoided newspapers and television. They were full of lies, and we knew all the stuff we needed. We spent our government grants on books, dope, acid, jug wine, and cheap food from the supermarket--variegated cheese scraps bundled roughly together, white cabbage and bacon ends, dented tins of tomatoes from the bargain bin. Everything was beautiful, the stars and the sunsets, the mold that someone discovered at the back of the fridge, the cows in the fields that kicked their giddy heels up in the air and fled as we ranged through the Yorkshire woods decked in daisy chains, necklaces made of melon seeds and tie-dye T-shirts whose colors stained the bath tub forever--an eternal reminder of the rainbow generation. [81-82]

And for all these many years Lord Temsland has not found you,” I whispered. He was very still—not afraid of me, but wary. “No other stag has ever been able to elude the lord,” I said softly, “for he is nothing if not a fine hunter. How... ?” The hart lived ever in the shadow of the wood. He knew its winding ways, knew where to find its hidden brooks of water. When the forest’s darker night fell upon him, then he rose up and led his herd to succulent herbs and fat nuts and sweet grasses. He lived side by side with death and was not sad. “So that is why you escape Lord Temsland—Death has bargained with you too,” I said. “But why?” “Because,” said a voice behind me, “he is so gloriously beautiful. Like you.

Greyson tilted his head and smirked in a way that used to kick up my self-defense instincts. “What?” I asked. “Nothing,” he said with too much innocence. “I was just congratulating myself.” “For what?” “For the brilliant decision to accept my mate bond with you, Lady Hunter.” “It turned out better than I ever hoped for,” I admitted. “It did, didn’t it?” He leaned closer, and even after more than six months of being bonded, it still made my spine prickle with over-awareness. “You’re a lot of trouble, but you’re worth it.” “I’m trouble? You’re the one who recklessly bargains with his life, accepts potentially hazardous mate bonds, and tears head first into danger!” “More decisions I’m proud of,” Greyson said. I gaped at him in disbelief, and he chuckled lowly, then took advantage of the moment to kiss me senseless. “Aroo!” I’d never heard a howl tinged with disgust, but when I laughed and stepped away from Greyson, Aeric had his head down and his paws covering his eyes. Wyatt wagged his tail at us and crooned what I suspect was supposed to be some kind of romantic love song, because Aeric made a dry-heaving-hacking noise. I rolled my eyes.

I quickly learned that the congressional delegation from Alaska was deeply committed to the oil industry and other commercial interests, and senatorial courtesy prevented other members from disputing with Senators Ted Stevens (Republican) and Mike Gravel (Democrat) over a matter involving their home state. Former Idaho governor Cecil Andrus, my secretary of interior, and I began to study the history of the controversy and maps of the disputed areas, and I flew over some of them a few times. Environmental groups and most indigenous natives were my allies, but professional hunters, loggers, fishers, and the Chambers of Commerce were aligned with the oil companies. All the odds were against us until Cecil discovered an ancient law, the Antiquities Act of 1906, which permitted a president to set aside an area for “the protection of objects of historic and scientific interest,” such as Indian burial grounds, artifacts, or perhaps an ancient church building or the site of a famous battle. We decided to use this authority to set aside for preservation large areas of Alaska as national monuments, and eventually we had included more than 56 million acres (larger than the state of Minnesota). This gave me the bargaining chip I needed, and I was able to prevail in the subsequent debates. My efforts were extremely unpopular in Alaska, and I had to have extra security on my visits. I remember that there was a state fair where people threw baseballs at two targets to plunge a clown into a tank of water. My face was on one target and Iran’s Ayatollah Khomeini’s on the other, and few people threw at the Ayatollah’s.

So demons are just opportunists? They don’t create their own opportunities?” “Consider them salesmen you let into your home. Once there, they may convince you to buy more than you bargained for, but you still let them in.” “I’ve

Become a good hunter for happiness bargains, where the value you are getting from the purchase, over time, and over different areas of your life, far outweighs to price.

For a number of reasons, the church has become widely viewed as either irrelevant, the object of contempt, or both. The situation is complex, but two factors stand out. First, a narrow approach to the idea of salvation, as expressed in the blood atonement and with Jesus as the exclusive divine Savior, has played into the hands of a church seeking political power at the expense of the inclusive wisdom of its own gospel. “Getting saved” not only is a static and highly individualistic phenomenon but narrows and domesticates the redemptive activity of God in ways that conform all too conveniently to the worldview of the new American empire. In a land of entitled bargain hunters, salvation becomes the ultimate bargain. Second, the notion of covenant as a collective expression of gratitude and mutuality has been trampled beneath a culture whose real devotion is to private ambition. The religious impulse, born in epiphanies that awaken us to our responsibilities to and for one another, is fundamentally corrupted when it is reduced to an individual balm. Faith is always supposed to make it harder, not easier, to ignore the plight of our sisters and brothers. In short, the church must make a crucial choice now between wisdom theology and salvation theology— between the Jesus who transforms and the Christ who saves. One is the biblical ethic of justice; the other is a postbiblical invention that came to fullness only after the Protestant Reformation.

Instead of accepting plea bargains, large numbers of people collectively demand their constitutional right to a jury of their peers.

By the fifth night his perseverance was rewarded with a smile from Amy after Swift Antelope escorted her home from their daily walk. With flushed cheeks, Amy regaled Loretta with the details of her time spent with Swift Antelope, about the doe and twin fawns they had spied upon, about the flowers Swift Antelope had picked for her, about the birdcalls and sign language he was teaching her, about the silly tricks he played on her. Clearly Swift Antelope was making headway with Amy; the girl was beginning to heal. Hunter’s already low spirits plummeted. It was a sad state of affairs when an untried boy had more luck with women than a grown man. It was especially upsetting because Hunter knew he had paid dearly, not once but twice, for the right to possess Loretta, that he could exercise his rights at any time he chose, yet found himself hesitating because of the shadows in her eyes. Recalling his father’s advice, he could only scoff. The way things were going, if he was to become his woman’s friend before he became her lover, they might never move on to the second stage of their relationship. The more disgruntled Hunter became over the situation, the more he glowered, and the more he glowered, the more uneasy Loretta was in his presence. The worst part was, Hunter couldn’t blame her. Their bargain hung over them like a dark cloud, her promises binding her to him yet holding them apart. He knew she dreaded the moment when he would confront her, demanding that she lie with him. With each passing day, the prospect seemed to grow more frightening to her. Hunter was perceptive enough to realize that waiting patiently for her to come around wasn’t abetting him in his cause, yet he couldn’t bring himself to force her, either.

You make lies of your promises, Blue Eyes.” “Not this time. I swear it, Hunter. I swear it before God, I’ll be your woman. Anything for Amy.” He caught her chin. “You make a God promise? You will lie with me in my buffalo robes?” Loretta closed her eyes. The words stuck in her throat. She was sacrificing her self-respect. Her own people would forever scorn her if they knew. But what choice did she have? “Yes, I’ll lie with you.” “You will see into me when you speak.” She lifted her lashes. His eyes burned with an intensity she’d never seen before. “I’ll lie with you, I swear to God.” “You will not fight the big fight when I put my hands upon you?” “No.” “And you will eat? You will stay beside me? Forever into the horizon?” “Yes.” He brushed his thumb across her mouth, remembering how sweet her lips had tasted. A slow smile creased his dark face. “You will say it before your God.” Loretta blinked and met his gaze. “I swear it before God--I’ll eat and I’ll stay beside you, forever into the horizon.” “You will not fight the great fight?” “No, I won’t fight.” He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her against him. “Ah, Blue Eyes, it is a good bargain this Comanche has made.

You make a God promise? You will lie with me in my buffalo robes?” Loretta closed her eyes. The words stuck in her throat. She was sacrificing her self-respect. Her own people would forever scorn her if they knew. But what choice did she have? “Yes, I’ll lie with you.” “You will see into me when you speak.” She lifted her lashes. His eyes burned with an intensity she’d never seen before. “I’ll lie with you, I swear to God.” “You will not fight the big fight when I put my hands upon you?” “No.” “And you will eat? You will stay beside me? Forever into the horizon?” “Yes.” He brushed his thumb across her mouth, remembering how sweet her lips had tasted. A slow smile creased his dark face. “You will say it before your God.” Loretta blinked and met his gaze. “I swear it before God--I’ll eat and I’ll stay beside you, forever into the horizon.” “You will not fight the great fight?” “No, I won’t fight.” He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her against him. “Ah, Blue Eyes, it is a good bargain this Comanche has made.” “You’ll go find her?” “I will find her, and I will bring her to you, eh?” Loretta hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. She exhaled in a rush, so relieved that she felt weak. Hunter bent his head and pressed his face against her hair. The next instant she felt his lips on her neck. She also felt his hand on her posterior. Frustrated by her high neckline and her full skirts, he made a fist in the calico. “So much wannup. Where are you, Blue Eyes?

Hunter bent his head and pressed his face against her hair. The next instant she felt his lips on her neck. She also felt his hand on her posterior. Frustrated by her high neckline and her full skirts, he made a fist in the calico. “So much wannup. Where are you, Blue Eyes?” He started to lift her dress. Loretta reached behind her and caught his hand. “Wha--what’re you doin’?” He lifted his head, eyes alight with teasing mischief. “I search for my woman. You are in there.” “I’m not your woman yet. Have you no shame? It’s broad daylight. People might see.” “They will see you are my woman.” “They’ll see my drawers, that’s what they’ll see!” He abandoned his hold on her skirt to run his palm up her back. “No bones. That is good.” Loretta’s face flamed when she realized he was referring to the whale bones of a corset. A decent man didn’t mention such things. “You haven’t brought me Amy,” she reminded him. “Our bargain doesn’t start until you do.” “I have spoken it. It is done.” “Amy first.” Before she realized what he was about to do, he swept her off her feet and put her on the horse, then leaped up behind her. Cinching an arm around her waist, he bent his head and said, “This Comanche will sure enough find her quick.

The little boy touched his dust-streaked hand to Loretta’s hair and made a breathless “ooh” sound. He smelled like any little boy who had been hard at play, a bit sweaty yet somehow sweet, with the definite odor of dog and horse clinging to him. Blackbird concentrated on Loretta’s blue eyes, staring into them with unflinching intensity. The younger girl ran reverent fingertips over the flounces on Loretta’s bloomers, saying, “Tosi wannup,” over and over again. Loretta couldn’t help but smile. She was as strange to them as they were to her. She longed to gather them close and never let go. Friendly faces and human warmth. Their giggles made her long for home. With a throat that responded none too well to the messages from her brain, Loretta murmured, “Hello.” The sound of her own voice seemed unreal--an echo from the past. “Hi, hites.” Blackbird linked her chubby forefingers in an unmistakable sign of friendship. “Hah-ich-ka sooe ein conic?” Loretta had no idea what the child had asked until Blackbird steepled her fingers. “Oh--my house?” Loretta cupped a hand over her brow as if she were squinting into the distance. “Very far away.” Blackbird’s eyes sparkled with delight, and she burst into a long chain of gibberish, chortling and waving her hands. Loretta watched her, fascinated by the glow of happiness in her eyes, the innocence in her small face. She had always imagined Comanches, young and old, with blood dripping from their fingers. A deep voice came from behind her. “She asks how long you will eat and keep warm with us.” Startled, Loretta glanced over her shoulder to find Hunter reclining on a pallet of furs. Because he lay so low to the floor, she hadn’t seen him the first time she’d looked. Propping himself up on one elbow, he listened to his niece chatter for a moment. His eyes caught the light coming through the lodge door, glistening, fathomless. “You will tell her, ‘Pihet tabbe.’” Trust didn’t come easily to Loretta. “What does that mean?” A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “Pihet, three. Tabbe, the sun. Three suns. It was our bargain.” Relieved that she hadn’t dreamed his promise to take her home, Loretta repeated “pihet tabbe” to Blackbird. The little girl looked crestfallen and took Loretta’s hand. “Ka,” she cried. “Ein mea mon-ach.” “Ka, no. You are going a long way,” Hunter translated, pushing to his feet as he spoke. “I think she likes you.” He came to the bed and, with an indulgent smile, shooed the children away as Aunt Rachel shooed chickens. “Poke Wy-ar-pee-cha, Pony Girl,” he said as he scooped the unintimidated toddler off the furs and set her on the floor. His hand lingered a moment on her hair, a loving gesture that struck Loretta as totally out of character for a Comanche warrior. The fragile child, his rugged strength. The two formed a fascinating contrast. “She is from my sister who is dead.” Nodding toward the boy, he added, “Wakare-ee, Turtle, from Warrior.” Loretta didn’t want the children to leave her alone with their uncle. She gazed after them as they ran out the lodge door.

If I don’t take her back to her wooden walls, she will die.” Hunter met his father’s steady gaze across the leaping flames. “Then what will become of the prophecy? She emptied her belly of the meat broth and precious water as well. She will sure enough die if this continues.” Soat Tuh-huh-yet, Many Horses, drew on his pipe and blew smoke toward the peak of the lodge, then toward the ground. After taking another drag, he exhaled east, west, north, and south. The pipe then passed from his right hand to Hunter, who inhaled slowly and returned the pipe to his father with his right hand to make a full circle, never to be broken. “My tua, you have only just arrived. Give her some time.” “She’ll be dead in a day or two.” Hunter spat a fleck of tobacco. Though he would never admit it, he detested the taste of his father’s pipe. “I have tried everything, Father. I’ve been kind to her. I’ve promised my strong arm will be hers forever into the horizon, until I am dust in the wind. And I’ve tried bargaining with her.” “What bargains?” Hunter shot a wary glance toward the shadows, where his mother sat listening. “After my mother left the lodge, I said that perhaps I would be a tired Comanche when the moon rose if she were to eat and drink.” “And if she didn’t, and you were not tired?” Many Horses’ dark eyes filled with laughter. He too shot a glance into the shadows. “The bargain did not please her?” Hunter shook his head.

I have tried everything, Father. I’ve been kind to her. I’ve promised my strong arm will be hers forever into the horizon, until I am dust in the wind. And I’ve tried bargaining with her.” “What bargains?” Hunter shot a wary glance toward the shadows, where his mother sat listening. “After my mother left the lodge, I said that perhaps I would be a tired Comanche when the moon rose if she were to eat and drink.” “And if she didn’t, and you were not tired?” Many Horses’ dark eyes filled with laughter. He too shot a glance into the shadows. “The bargain did not please her?” Hunter shook his head.

I have tried everything, Father. I’ve been kind to her. I’ve promised my strong arm will be hers forever into the horizon, until I am dust in the wind. And I’ve tried bargaining with her.” “What bargains?” Hunter shot a wary glance toward the shadows, where his mother sat listening. “After my mother left the lodge, I said that perhaps I would be a tired Comanche when the moon rose if she were to eat and drink.” “And if she didn’t, and you were not tired?” Many Horses’ dark eyes filled with laughter. He too shot a glance into the shadows. “The bargain did not please her?” Hunter shook his head. “Perhaps she is not the right woman,” Many Horses said softly. “She is the woman. I am certain of that.” “Has a spirit voice come to you during a dream?” “No, my father.” Studying the flames, Hunter grew thoughtful. “No man has a more abiding hatred for the tosi tivo than I. You know this is so. My heart burned with anger when I went to collect the yellow-hair. I wanted to kill her.” Woman with Many Robes leaned forward, her features dancing in the firelight. Hunter met her gaze. She was a woman with much wisdom. She observed the customs and seldom interrupted when men were speaking, but on those occasions when she did, only a stupid man ignored what she had to say. He waited to see if she meant to share her thoughts. When she remained silent, he cleared his throat, which was afire from the pipe, and continued. “Now, I would not kill her. She has touched me. My hatred for her has gone the way of the wind. She saved my life.” He quickly related the tale about the rattlesnake and how she had broken her silence to warn him. “You would prefer that she live for always away from you?” Hunter’s gut contracted. In that instant he realized how much he wanted the woman beside him. “I would prefer that my eyes never again fall upon her than to see her die.

Hunter gazed at the horizon for a moment. Loretta’s voice kept whispering to him. Even in my sleep I dream about what could be happening to her, hear her calling for me. I try to find her, and I can’t. Hunter wasn’t sure why finding Amy had become so important to him, and he didn’t care to analyze his feelings. Was his aim to cement a bargain with a woman he had already bought? Why must he pay twice to possess her? Was her happiness so important to him that he was willing to risk his life and those of his friends to chase the shadows from her eyes? The questions were unanswerable. And troubling.

Stay back!” she cried. “I come. Choose your mark, Blue Eyes, and drive the blade deep. You have one strike.” When he was within arm’s reach of her, she made a lunge, arcing the knife at his chest. Hunter deflected the blow, swallowing down cold, mind-numbing anger. She meant to kill him? No matter how frightened she was, he couldn’t believe it of her, couldn’t believe how much the realization hurt him. He wrested the weapon from her hands and tossed it to Swift Antelope, tempted to shake her until her teeth rattled. After all he had done, how dare she turn on him? “Take Aye-mee to my mother’s lodge, Swift Antelope.” Loretta staggered backward, holding her arms out to keep him away from the unconscious child. “No! Stay away from her. She stays with me.” “Not this night,” Hunter snarled. “You have a bargain to keep, eh?” She shrank from his outstretched hand. “To hell with our bargain, you animal! I’ll die before I let you put your filthy hands on me.” “Then sing your death song.” With that, he grabbed Loretta’s wrist, jerked her half off her feet, and proceeded to drag her behind him toward his horse.

The moment Hunter stepped into the lodge, Loretta swiped the tears from her cheeks and began clanging pots so loudly that her ears rang. Perverse though it was, she fell back on her anger to hide her hurt. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to let him know how she really felt. “Blue Eyes, we must make talk,” he said softly, pausing to tie the lodge flap firmly closed. “Go make talk with Bright Star,” she sniped, even though that was the last thing she wanted him to do. “I would make talk with you.” He moved slowly toward her. “I told Bright Star I would marry no other, yes?” Loretta yearned to throw herself in his arms and weep, to hear him whisper, “It is well,” as he always did when things went wrong. Instead she rounded on him. “And I suppose you made her feel sorry for you in the bargain? Poor, poor Hunter, stuck with one woman!” She tried to glare at him but couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “I’ve been thinking while you were out there mooning over her. And I’ve decided a dozen other wives around here would suit me just fine. You’re right! It’s boisa for me to feel--” She broke off and swallowed, keeping her face averted. “I’m not being a wife to you…” Her voice trailed off into a squeak. “And I’m afraid I never can be.” Hunter’s guts clenched at the pain he read in her expression. He hadn’t intended to hurt her, only to make her face her feelings. Why was it that no matter what he did, it was always wrong? Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned forward and braced his arms on his knees. “Blue Eyes, you will be a fine wife in time,” he said gravely. “No, I won’t.” Her gaze flew to his, brimming with misery and tears. “Oh, Hunter, what’s the matter with me?

When she finally grew still, a taut silence settled over them. From the corner of his eye he could see her worrying her lip, her small white teeth sinking into the soft pink flesh. Remembering how those lips felt beneath his, another surge of longing knotted his guts, making him recall the plans he had made for the evening--plans that were now drifting away on the wind. He wanted her, yes, but not if it meant forcing her. “I suppose that…” Her voice trailed off. She plucked nervously at her skirt, then ran her fingertips up the line of buttons on her bodice. She glanced around nervously, still nibbling her lip. “I, um, haven’t forgotten my promises to you.” “This is good.” Hunter watched her with gentle amusement. “A promise is a promise, even when given under unusual circumstances. You kept up your part, and--” She seemed unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sure you expect me to keep up mine.” A dark flush crept up her neck. “I, um, guess you had Amy taken to your mother’s so we could--so we could…” She looked so distressed that Hunter took pity on her. “Ah, yes, we have a bargain, do we not?” He forced a long and very loud yawn. “My heart is heavy to say these words, Blue Eyes, but I am sure enough weary after traveling so far, eh?” Her expression brightened so visibly that he nearly chuckled. “Oh, but of course!” she exclaimed in a shaky little voice. “You’ve ridden a very long way. You must be exhausted.” He yawned again and patted the fur beside him. “You will lie beside me.” “But what about Amy?” “Your Aye-mee is with my mother, yes? The woman who is mean like a buffalo. She is safe. You will be easy about her until the sun shows its face.” His voice turned husky. “Keemah, come.

You will lie beside me.” “But what about Amy?” “Your Aye-mee is with my mother, yes? The woman who is mean like a buffalo. She is safe. You will be easy about her until the sun shows its face.” His voice turned husky. “Keemah, come.” “I--I’d really like to check on her. She fainted, Hunter. I want to know she’s okay. I won’t rest until I know that.” “If she were not, my mother would come. My mother has good medicine, yes? And she is very kind. You will trust.” He stretched out an arm and watched the myriad emotions that crossed her face as she contemplated the spot beside him. She had slept beside him before, many times, but tonight was different. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he wanted. She had even bargained away her right to fight him. What she didn’t seem to realize was that there had never been anything to stop him.

You will lie beside me.” “But what about Amy?” “Your Aye-mee is with my mother, yes? The woman who is mean like a buffalo. She is safe. You will be easy about her until the sun shows its face.” His voice turned husky. “Keemah, come.” “I--I’d really like to check on her. She fainted, Hunter. I want to know she’s okay. I won’t rest until I know that.” “If she were not, my mother would come. My mother has good medicine, yes? And she is very kind. You will trust.” He stretched out an arm and watched the myriad emotions that crossed her face as she contemplated the spot beside him. She had slept beside him before, many times, but tonight was different. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he wanted. She had even bargained away her right to fight him. What she didn’t seem to realize was that there had never been anything to stop him. “Keemah.” When at last she scooted over to him, Hunter experienced a feeling like none he had ever felt. It went beyond satisfaction, beyond contentment. Having her fair head on his shoulder felt perfectly right, as if the Great Ones had hollowed the spot for her long ago, and he had been waiting all his life for her to fill it. He curled his arm around her, his hand on her back. “It is good, eh?” She placed a palm lightly on his chest. In a dubious tone she replied, “Yes, it is good.

Stocks are cheapest when everything looks grim. The depressing outlook keeps them there, and only a few astute and daring bargain hunters are willing to take new positions. Maybe their buying attracts some attention, or maybe the outlook turns a little less depressing, but for one reason or another, the market starts moving up.

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When someone suffers a horrible injustice,” he said, his tone low, “their soul makes a scream so loud that it resonates through the halls of Olympus. When Artemis hears it, she goes to the one who cried out and offers them a bargain. For a single Act of Vengeance against those who wronged them, they will swear allegiance to her and fight in her army against the Daimon predators.

Growth was running at 40 percent per month, but what was more impressive was the motor that was driving it. Unlike Yahoo, which was pouring money into marketing, eBay’s marketing budget was zero. Its hectic expansion was instead propelled by Metcalfe’s law: as the size of its auction network grew, its value rose exponentially. The more sellers listed stuff on eBay, the more bargain hunters were drawn to the site; the more buyers there were, the more sellers turned to it.

You can drink until you're corned, pickled, and salted... but I'm still going to hold you to our bargain." She gave him a glance of seething annoyance. "I had no such plan in mind. However, I'll drink as much champagne as I want. After all, I can't recall a time when you ever came to my bed sober.