Giselle Quotes

It was like someone in a suit walked up to me and gave me a certificate, which stated “Roxanne Giselle Logan, Your Life is Fucked”.

For what is a dream if not love first felt and what is mystery if not life itself

Tex (wearing a tux, and not happy about it) boomed from across the room, “Roxanne Giselle Lo… I mean, Nightingale! When are those fuckin’ harpists gonna shut the fuck up and so we can get some rock ‘n’ roll?

I don't function without a heart, he said angrily and then added under his breath as he grabbed at the front of his Tshirt, He's right here.

You hear even a hint that a blizzard’s coming, Roxanne Giselle, you go straight to the store and buy toilet paper, you hear me? And make a pot of chili or stew. Don’t get caught out. I don’t want a phone call saying you starved to death, stuck in the house with no stew.

The sea waves stirred before me they dashed against the rocks Like a mermaid rising from its depths curled white sea foam were her locks...

Ang Pilipino sabi ni Trono kay Giselle, at sa kumpulan ng mga kinkilig na kababaihan, ay pinaghalo-halong dugo. Sumasamba ng sabay-sabay kay Buddha at kay Kristo at sa mga anting-anting at Feng Shui. Sa dami ng nagsasabi sa kanya kung ano siya, nakalimutan na niya kung sino siya.

The vast open sea at night is a song being written; a rhyme, a mysterious and gentle arpeggiated work of Beethoven. It's sung by the waves as they travel on the face of the ocean, and their lyrics are the rhythm of the pounding surf.

when life gives you lemon, take it. don't waste food

Sully: I never said good-bye Giselle: Such a needless word when you love somebody

Giselle Speakmon’s parents are totally devout. When I get in there and we hook up, there won’t be any cribs for me either, Dad, because I reckon they’ll make me wear one of those chastity belts, knowin’ Jas is my brother and all.

Aster didn't mean it. As much as it frustrated her, she understood the logic of Giselle's psychosis. Everything dies, so exert control by burning it away yourself. Everything will be born again anyway. There's no such thing as creation, merely a shuffling of parts. All birth is rebirth in disguise. (63)

She was an ocean, and he was just a sinking man lost in her waves.

Once, when Giselle was alive, he thought about the future. Now he only thought about the past.

pomegranates

A girl sat captive in a tower of stone, she sat and dreamed but dreamt alone...

Pretty show, but you're wasting energy and time," Max said. "Mind if we get back to saving Horngate? You can go postal later.

And Giselle just saw the Cordellan heir give away pieces of Winter. Theron had no right to do this.

How the hell was she going to fight them? With style. She could almost hear Niko's voice. She grinned, despite herself. Do try not to die, won't you? That was Tyler. It would have been followed by a delicate yawn. And Oz: Keep your head down and don't be stupid. Lise: Bitch, do not even think about leaving me alone with all this testosterone. Giselle: You can't win if you die, so suck it up. Tutresiel: Princess, you aren't even trying if you're dying. And Alexander: Come home.

What I 'd like first is someone to raise them with, someone who will look at me and say, 'that one. I want that one.' You know what I mean? I want someone who will know right away that he wants to be with me and raise kids with me and just...love me.

He dances until dawn and walks away from the ghosts. Into the light.

To say they had waited for months or even years to find each other again would not be accurate. Love runs on another time track. It can't be counted down and won't allow itself to be defined as terminable. For Reid and Lena, it could have been months, years or a lifetime because at that moment, it was as if no time had passed at all.

Because whenever anyone gets within a ten-foot radius of him, you go insane. Any time someone even dares to suggest there’s anyone in his life other than you, you go insane. Any time he’s not within touching distance, you go insane. And any time you think he’s falling away from you, that he’s not there, you go insane. You’ve put your whole life into him; what do you think that means, Jacob? How can you possibly explain that and not make it sound like he’s the axis your world spins on? Because if you can explain him away, and everything you feel for him away, then I’d like you to tell me how you function without a heart.

Aaron’s mouth dropped open when he entered the “room;” it was more like a huge open loft … no walls, huge floor to ceiling windows, shiny hardwood floors … perfect for a studio. He had no idea how Jake had acquired such a huge space in Manhattan. As if reading his mind, Alyson leaned over and whispered, “He bought the place next door and tore down the walls.” “Perfect,” replied Aaron, “and did he happen to find a treasure chest hidden in one of the walls as well?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, how the holy hell does he afford this place? He looks like he’s twelve.” “He’s twenty-​two, and he happens to be quite successful.” “At twenty-​fucking-​two?” “He was born with talent?” Alyson said questioningly. “He’s a lucky wanker who blew the right people?” suggested Aaron. Alyson tried to scowl but grinned instead, “A child prodigy?” “A deal with the devil?” “Naturally gifted?” “An indulgent sugar daddy?” “How about ‘c) All of the above’?” asked a third voice from behind the partition at the far corner of the studio.

He was the wind to her sail, the anchor to her ship, the shore to her sea; she would follow him to any horizon, and he would do the same for her, regardless of what uncharted waters might lie ahead.

French women choose a scent when they’re girls and use it until they’re grandmothers. It becomes their trademark. 'Ah,' he murmurs in the dark theater, 'Giselle is here tonight!' But I think that a woman usually outgrows a fragrance every decade or so.

There was an excitement coming from Giselle. She was standing on the edge of a new world and so ready to jump. How Lucifer felt upon leaving Heaven. He didn’t fall. He dove.

Her way through life had been winding until now, like an unruly stream stumbling its way over hurdles and bumps, oftentimes trickling into those dark, unexpected cracks. But she was like water. Persistent, versatile, never willing to wait.

She smiles. ‘I like black because it reminds me of night. You can only see all the stars when the sky’s black.

A scientist, Aster had learned something GIselle had not: decoding the past was like decoding the physical world. The best that could be hoped for was a working model. A reasonable approximation. That was to say, no matter what Aster learned of Lune, there was no piecing together the full mystery of her life. There was no hearing her laugh or feeling her embrace. A ghost is not a person. (147)

live life like a boss

She’s like the tide, she is. Sometimes she will rage and sometimes she will recede, but she will always return, stronger and more unwavering than ever.

Anything of any sort can be deemed 'unsinkable'—unbendable, unbreakable, even—'til the day so comes when it sinks, breaks, and bends. Titanic is no different.

Giselle would rouse herself from her torpor occasionally (she moved like a particularly lazy cat) in order to despise something.

Our faith is a mishmash of many things. We believe in family, in music and art, but we mostly believe in each other" -Giselle

Giselle wondered how important it was to have a complicated life in addition to making your art.

Holt is just one year younger than Giselle, but he thinks he’s the one in charge because he’s a man. Clearly Holt knows nothing about the might of women.

Giselle wasn’t quite a people person.

Luther had been surprisingly gentlemanly with her. Despite Giselle’s mention that Luther liked the hunt more than the conquest, Emmy had fully expected him to come to her cabin the first night and take her anyway he liked. On the ocean there was no one to hear her scream. She had lain awake until dawn, a steak knife poised to thrust, but Luther had kept to himself.

You’re part of the fabric of my life, Giselle, and our quilt is stronger now. You have to see that. Forgive yourself, and things will be clearer, your heart open, major decisions easier.

How to explain this? A shadow kytaen becomes, in a way, the shadow of their keeper, and when the keeper chooses it to, the shadow will detach itself like It did just then.’ ‘What, like Peter Pan?

Giselle Chapman was hired by Bristol-Myers Squibb, one of the leading pharmaceutical companies at that time. She became their number one sales representative, and went on to form her own consulting company.

Giselle sat crouched inside, her body a mess of flowering bruises: irises, peonies, pharynxia, sheep's tongue blossoms, violets—rhododendron in some places. Beneath skin, blood seeped from inflamed vessels.

No. You see, the night works differently here than in the human realm,’ he continues. ‘Duwyn is a world of balance. Good and bad, light and dark – both must exist to keep the world in harmony.’ Oh God, he’s going to give me a Pocahontas speech.

With Gran gone, much of the time I feel like a blind person in a minefield. I’m constantly stumbling upon social improprieties hidden under the surface of things. But with Giselle around, I feel like I’m wearing a breastplate and am flanked by an armed guard.

Like watercolors blurring together upon a canvas, they had formed something beautiful, something inseparable, their hues blending to create a brilliant new shade. It was warm and secure, a color soft as the sunrise, and she welcomed it, letting its light spill into her being.

She hates team building, and she’s always avoided the outdoors, which I didn’t understand until she let slip that her dad used to take her and Giselle camping. (God knows how he found the time, since he was so busy being a slimy, two-timing twat, but clearly he kept on top of his schedule.)

Beautiful,” Jake whispered. “The pictures could never hold you. This is mine; this is what I was trying to find.” “Now that it’s found,” Aaron replied as his fingers combed through Jake’s hair, “don’t lose it again.” Ellis, Giselle (2010-02-23). Take My Picture (Kindle Locations 1646-1648). Dreamspinner Press. Kindle Edition.

arms went around his neck and back until their bodies were nothing more than a tangle of limbs that were too entwined to claim a single owner but were rather an extension of this new sweating, grunting, fucking creature they had created. Ellis, Giselle (2010-02-23). Take My Picture (Kindle Locations 1717-1719). Dreamspinner Press. Kindle Edition.

It pays to keep an open mind, but not so open your brains fall out,” I quote. She lifts up on her elbow and stares at me. “Carl Sagan?” I smirk at the surprise in her tone. “Not just a jock, Giselle. I read, mostly on the road.” She blows at a piece of hair in her face and plops back down. “Devon Walsh, squashing stereotypes one quote at a time.

I’ve had enough of this destiny bullshit, OK?

I look at Pegasus. ‘I’d rather be bound to you, boy. Bet you don’t have any problems besides where to take your morning dump.

Hearing those words, I instinctively turn to my new keeper, regretting it, because for only the third time in my entire existence, tears are streaming down my cheeks.

Wow. Another realm, huh? Your zealous delusions continue to impress me. Is this where we fly off to Olympus or Valhalla or Heaven or something?

It’s probable that doctors would tell me indulging Dad’s delusions is not advisable, but what the hell.

OK. How to start? All right. I’m going to be very blunt, so here it goes,’ he says. ‘I can see the future.’ 'Um. Yeah. Sure you can, Dad,’ I say.

She is magnificent. I cannot deny it.

live each day because yhou don't know if you wake up tomorrow.

After the first couple weeks, when all your sex toys had met all my sex toys, ...

Oh, God.’ ‘What?’ he says. ‘Ew.’ ‘What’ ‘Your leg. It looks dismembered. I swear there’s bone coming out of it. So gross.’ ‘… Couldn’t you at lease have phrased that more delicately?

Giselle’s features solidified. Whether she was beautiful, hot, pretty, or none of the above changed according to who was doing the looking and to whom she was being compared. Beauty was relative, reflective; you learned early to rank and code, to tally appearance and desirability in seconds, a subconscious algorithm that input body parts, clothing, attitude, makeup.

The Imperium made a solemn vow that if another Pulsar were to be born into our world," he continues, "that they would protect them at all costs in the hopes that a legend would arise again.

She took a powder container and brush and was about to use it on my face, but I stopped her. “Is it clean?” I asked. “The brush?” Giselle sighed. “Yes, Molly. It’s clean. You’re not the only person in the world who sanitizes things, you know.” This pleased me immensely because it confirmed what I knew in my heart. Giselle and I are so different, and yet, fundamentally, we are very much alike.

She had changed something in him, absurd as it was. He felt as if his entire world shifted, like a breaking wave reversing the direction of its curl, suddenly foaming and swirling itself back into the sea.

Contrary to what you may think, when O’Sah told me about kytaen, that I’d be meeting one, I didn’t picture a pet or a lackey to follow me. I didn’t think of a prisoner. I… I pictured an ally, a friend, OK?

There are two parts of each person’s brain: the upper-level logical part and the lower-level emotional part. I call these the “two yous.” They fight for control of each person. How that conflict is managed is the most important driver of our behaviors. That fighting was the biggest reason for the problems Bob, Giselle, and Dan raised. While the logical part of people’s brains could easily understand that knowing one’s weaknesses is a good thing

You and I are not like normal humans. We’re known as the Chosen and possess, how should I say it? We possess abilities that would be thought impossible. Think of, I don’t know, think of shape-shifters, illusionists, seers – like me.

And before either one could breathe another breath or utter another “yes,” Jake finally found out how Aaron looked as he came, finally saw the glazed look that slid over those brown eyes, finally saw the beauty that he had always known existed in this world but had never been able to find. Finally knew his Aaron. Bare, flushed, breathless, and slick beneath him. Ellis, Giselle (2010-02-23). Take My Picture (Kindle Locations 1736-1739). Dreamspinner Press. Kindle Edition.

I-I know you think me a monster, and maybe I am, b-but please never doubt how much I believed in you. Everything I did was for you. Yes, I did it all for you! I would live and die for you. Over and over if I had to. I was never your enemy.

I don’t have a choice. A kytaen comes at me, all teeth and claws, and instinct takes over. The magic that has been dormant for so long explodes out of me, and I become the beast I truly am. And with fire and fury and the will to survive, I pounce.

Excerpt from the Marquis's Mistake by myself. “So what am I my Lord, an antidote, a bluestocking or on the shelf? I assume it is the last because I should have come out three years ago and am all of twenty and one.” “But you were not out so that doesn’t count and I find you extremely desirable so you are far from an antidote. I think you very pretty and my taste has always been considered excellent. You are well educated but have other interests and ride well, so you fail to fit the criteria of a bluestocking. It might interest you to know my grandmother put you top of the girls she invited to her dinner party. Her opinion only confirmed what I had already concluded from examining your notebook and sketches. You eavesdrop and I sneak a peek at other people’s private notebooks. You see I think we would be well-matched.

You’re not like any other keeper I’ve met before. I’ve seen you two together, and more than anything I see you treat him as a friend. You look at him as an equal. Him… he looks at you with hope, and even more than that. I know that whatever bond you share with each other, it’s something real and powerful.

My brother . . . he used to say we fall through life like water. Just as a river gives itself to the ocean, so too will our paths meet their end. But we will never find ourselves alone. That’s what he always told me. We will reunite at the confluence, in time, for all rivers empty to the sea where they may rest.

Oh! I see it!’ I say. ‘I’m sitting, yes, I’m definitely sitting down on a chair with, let’s see, with my dad in front of me, who’s suddenly developed symptoms of Nutcase Syndrome, and… oh wait, that’s the here and now.’ I’m about to push his hands away from me. ‘I’m starting to think it’s you who needs to go to the hos-

Oh, right. I doubt this place has any delicious, fattening fast-food places, and maybe the Imperium doesn’t either. Yup, no McDonald’s, no Burger King, no Gino’s Pizza… Dear God, have I made a mistake coming here? I may be of small stature, but make no mistake: I am a glutton. On the other hand – possible franchise opportunity.

shaking her head. “She showed him.” For a few minutes, Ivy and Bean sat in silence, thinking. “Okay,” Ivy said finally. “I’m Giselle, and you’re the duke.” “All right,” said Bean. “But next time, I get to be Giselle.” It was fun playing Giselle, even though Ivy’s mom wouldn’t let them dance with a knife and they had to use a Wiffle bat instead. After they had each been Giselle a couple of times, they were Wilis, waving long Scotch-tape fingernails as they danced various people to death. “Mrs. Noble!” shrieked Bean. “I’m dancing Mrs. Noble to death.” Ivy ran to get a pair of her mother’s high heels and pretended to be Mrs. Noble, a fifth-grade teacher who had once given Ivy and Bean a lot of trouble.

You are not just any Chosen, my Lady," he says, and he meets my gaze with unflinching intensity. "The reason why your awakening of magic was so great, the reason why your eyes are red and no one else’s are… you are the heir to an ageless legacy, the heir of a slaughtered race. You are the last Pulsar, and we have been waiting for you for two hundred years.

they were tired of that so they ripped open the package and sat down side by side on Ivy’s couch to look at The Royal Book of the Ballet. “I heard that sometimes their toes bleed when they’re dancing,” said Bean. “The blood leaks right through the satin part.” “That’s gross,” said Ivy, turning the pages. Suddenly she stopped. “Whoa, Nellie,” murmured Bean, staring. “Is she kicking his head off?” asked Ivy in a whisper. “That’s what it looks like,” said Bean. “What’s this one called, anyway?” Ivy flipped back a few pages. “Giselle,” she said, reading quickly. “It’s about a girl named Giselle who, um, dances with this duke guy, but he’s going to marry a princess, not Giselle, so she takes his sword and stabs herself.” Ivy and Bean found the picture of that.

I put my head on his shoulder ‘Wh-what are you doing?’ he yells, shoving me away from him with wide eyes. ‘I was giving you a hug!’ I say. ‘Y-you-!’ ‘Pff. D’you really think I’d do that? I’m trying to keep warm, idiot. You’re like my overgrown Furby.’ ‘I’m in a human form, not my kytaen!’ ‘Tomayto, tomahto.’ I come close to him. He pushes me away. ‘You shouldn’t be doing that!’ ‘What’s the problem? You said you’re my tool, right? Well, I’m cold, tool of mine, so why don’t you calm the hell down and give me some of that sweet, sweet warmth?’ ‘Don’t touch me!’ ‘I’m starting to think you’re self-conscious in this form. You let me cuddle you in your other-‘ ‘We did not cuddle!’ he shouts. I manage a grin. ‘Would you prefer I use a different word? Snuggle, maybe?

You’re overly hostile, and that’s not a good thing. Pulsar, especially, are very controlled in their emotions.’ ‘So I’ve been told,’ I mutter. ‘They’re like water: elegant, neutral in all feeling. You, though, you’re like fire: blazing, belligerent, existing on all feelings – so unsuited to being a Pulsar.’ ‘Maybe that’s why we clash so much, you and me, because we’re fire on fire.

She could almost feel the wave of energy coming off of him as he moved with the wheel and thought if Jake wanted to photograph blatant sex, all he had to do was turn to his right and snap a few of Aaron. Neither one was paying the slightest bit of attention to the other, but Alyson was certain she could see a strand of nearly invisible light connecting them. She stared at them and thought that if she had a pair of those giant novelty scissors they used to cut red ribbons at the openings of new businesses, she could walk over and sever that connection with one snap of her shears and Jake and Aaron would crash to the floor like puppets shorn of their strings. Ellis, Giselle 2010-02-23. Take My Picture (Kindle Locations 638-643). Dreamspinner Press. Kindle Edition.

Ew,” said Bean. “But interesting.” “Yeah, and then she turns into a ghost with all these other girls. They’re called the Wilis.” The picture showed a troop of beautiful women dressed in white. They had very long fingernails. “And then,” Ivy read on, “the duke goes to see Giselle’s grave, and she comes out with the Wilis, and they decide to dance him to death.” Ivy stared at the picture. “To death.” Bean leaned over for a closer look. It was pretty amazing. Giselle’s pointed toe had snapped the duke’s head up so that his chin pointed straight up to the sky. It would fall off in a moment. The Wilis stood in a circle, waving their long fingernails admiringly. Bean lifted the page, wishing that she could see more of the picture, but there was no more. There never was. “Wow,” she said,

O’Sah explained to me that there are four categories of Chosen, each more powerful than the last. First are Zeros, Chosen who possess barely any magic. Second are Phobien, Chosen who have a reasonable amount of magic. Then, there are Thrones, considered powerful and holding many influential positions across Duwyn. And last, the Pulsar, the strongest of Chosen, revered as almost god-like beings.

But maybe that’s why you’re the last one, maybe that’s why the stargods decided to bring you into our world, because you’re not indifferent and you’re not mindless. You’re someone who can’t be crushed or tainted. Or at least, you’re not someone who will be easily. Maybe in these times, it’s not water we need, but fire. Maybe that’s why we’re together. Fire on fire, as you said.’ I blink, confused. ‘Are you… wait, are you being… nice to me?

Ever since Bob, Giselle, and Dan had presented me with the “Ray Feedback Memo” in the 1990s, I had been much more explicit in writing down and sharing my work principles in the same way I had written down my investment principles. At first, this took the form of shared philosophy statements and emails to the entire company. Then, whenever something new came along that required me to make a decision, I would reflect on my criteria for making that decision and write it down as a principle so people could make the connections between the situation, my principle for handling these situations, and my actions. More and more, we saw everything as “another one of those”—another of a certain type of situation like hiring, firing, determining compensation, dealing with dishonesty—that had principles for handling them. By having them explicitly written out, I could foster the idea meritocracy by having us together reflect on and refine those principles—and then adhere to them.

I don’t know her memories, I don’t know her thoughts, but it’s as if I can peek into her heart and know her, just as she will know me. If she were to turn from me now, I would not bear it. I need her. Without her I cannot exist, because I am no longer an independent entity. I am hers, body and soul, just as it is with every soul-binding. She is my light, she is my air, she is the heart, the soul, the essence – she is home. I may not want to feel this way but the binding has entwined us in an unshakable bond that no being can tear apart.

She’s elderly and needs care. It’s a very large apartment,” he says to Giselle. “You’d love her.” Shit, she loves older people. “Did she tell you she’s writing a romance?” I blurt. Greg’s eyebrows go sky high. “Ah, no.” “Aliens,” I say as I take a sip of my water. “Purple with sparkly scales and prehensile tails.” “I took the tail off!” she calls. “Oh?” He blinks down at Giselle, who’s currently giving me a flat look. Focusing on him, I try to decipher if he’s into it or thinks it’s not worthy of a scientist, but dammit, he’s not giving me any tells. “Do you think that’s silly?” she asks him. I don’t, babe, is on the tip of my tongue. Tell me more about them. Tell me everything. Put me back on your Pinterest board. (Yeah, I had to look up what that was.) You be the woman who can rock whatever she wants because she’s fascinating and intelligent and sexy as fuck. Greg leans in closer to her, his eyes heavy lidded. “I’m guessing you used real science to explain the details?” “Of course,” she says. He bites his lip. “Damn. That’s hot—” “All right!” I announce and shove at Aiden to get up.

What are you? Who are you? I have never met a Chosen like you in my entire existence. You are everything that is free. You are freedom. And I... I'm the bird trapped in the cage, watching you fly away. But then, you look back at me, you always look back, and you reach through the bars and offer your hand to me. Though I am nothing, though I am just a heartless creature, you still offer me your hand. But I won't take it. I won't because... what will happen to us if I do? It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Because you were kind to me, you made me laugh - that isn't something I will forget easily, and I will repay you.

Ae’anad’, he says. ‘What did you just call me?’ He’s silent. ‘Tell me. I command you,’ I say. ‘Now you’re discovering the ways of a keeper. Well, I’ll comply once, little lion.’ I blink. ‘Please don’t tell me you’re giving me a cute nickname?’ ‘Cute, you? Impossible. And “little lion” isn’t a cute nickname, either. You’re a ferocious animal who happens to be small.’ I glare. ‘I don’t like it.’ ‘That makes it all the better.’ He whacks my copper curls. ‘These, for example, are like a lion’s mane.’ ‘Hmph.’ ‘I don’t know why I didn’t come up with this before. You really are a little lion.’ And soon, Korren, very soon, I will be your keeper.

They then praise me for traits I don’t think I even have. Amiable presence? Hah! Lady of legends? OK, that sounds pretty cool. But righteous? Honourable? Composed? Did they just grab a dictionary and choose a bunch of positive words? And calling me polite, the girl who talks with her mouth full, the girl who speaks her mind at the worst moments, the girl who has no intention of hiding when she’s bored, annoyed or offended in order to respect the other person? Well, they’ll soon realise that polite was far from the truth. I’m not exactly impolite towards them, but I hate phoneys, and I have being phoney, too. Somehow, though, my upfront comments only spawn more of these exaggerated compliments: ‘What a sincere girl!’ and ‘We need a Pulsar of such boldness.

One winter day in 1993, Bob, Giselle, and Dan proposed taking me out to dinner with the stated purpose of “giving Ray feedback about how he affects people and company morale.” They sent me a memo first, the gist of which was that my way of operating was having a negative effect on everyone in the company. Here’s how they put it: What does Ray do well? He is very bright and innovative. He understands markets and money management. He is intense and energetic. He has very high standards and passes these to others around him. He has good intentions about teamwork, building group ownership, providing flexible work conditions to employees, and compensating people well. What Ray doesn’t do as well: Ray sometimes says or does things to employees which makes them feel incompetent, unnecessary, humiliated, overwhelmed, belittled, oppressed, or otherwise bad. The odds of this happening rise when Ray is under stress. At these times, his words and actions toward others create animosity toward him and leave a lasting impression. The impact of this is that people are demotivated rather than motivated. This reduces productivity and the quality of the environment. The effect reaches far beyond the single employee. The smallness of the company and the openness of communication means that everyone is affected when one person is demotivated, treated badly, not given due respect. The future success of the company is highly dependent on Ray’s ability to manage people as well as money. If he doesn’t manage people well, growth will be stunted and we will all be affected.

My head snaps in her direction. ‘Stop that,’ I say, standing in place. ‘Stop what?’ she asks. ‘With this thing, this niceness.’ ‘What d-you-?’ ‘I’m kytaen, a tool. You’re Chosen. We’re not friends. That kind of word doesn’t exist between our two species. Treat me how you’re supposed to and stop this… act.’ A moment passes, and then she says, ‘I see. So there’s going to be no civility between us, eh?’ ‘I’m glad you finally understand.’ ‘I didn’t exactly overlook your unsubtle hostility towards me.’ ‘Then why bother being nice?’ ‘I was raised to be polite to elderly people.’ ‘Then you should know I’m not old. I’m immortal.’ ‘Quit bragging’ I blink. ‘I wasn’t bragging, I was stating a fact.’ ‘It sounded like bragging to me.’ ‘It wasn’t.’ ‘It sounded like it.’ ‘Well it wasn’t.’ ‘Old men do tend to brag after all.’ ‘I wasn’t bragging!’ She gives me an impish grin. ‘They also lose their temper easily.' I grit my teeth.

Giselle had woken up once already, to find that she was pinned to the bed by the weight of Saul‘s leg lying across her lower body and his arm holding her against his side. It was a welcome imprisonment, though, and it enabled her to lie silently within its captivity and marvel at the magical events of the night and the happiness they had brought her. Now she was awake again—this time to find that she had the bed—his bed—to herself, and that she could stretch out languorously in it, entranced by the sweetly heavy ennui that possessed her body as intimately and intensely as Saul had possessed it during the night.

You are the wheel on which my life turns, Giselle, the heart of everything I do. I promise you that somehow we will find a way to set you free from your fear.

Scars mean we’ve survived something terrible. They prove we are tough. That we are survivors. We are alive.

Giselle was silent for a moment. “It’s not too late for me, is it Sergei? I’m still young enough to love, to have children, and a man?” Sergei

In the very unlikely chance that something unexpected happens today, I’m just going to say that I met you in Barcelona and that we had a wild affair and that I followed you to Malaga for sex and the promise of a good time.” “More or less true,” Lexi grinned. “It’s perfect.” “If you get hauled away in handcuffs, I’ll ask for visitation rights to get my lady fix.

They’re all yours,” Taylor whispered. “If you want them.” She hoped very much that she did. She hoped Jericho would begin to show her what she was really made of. She slid her hand down the seat of Jericho’s pants and pulled her tight. “Let me feel your mouth,” she whispered.

She opened the latest crime-scene photos submitted by the Nashville Police Department overnight. The fresh kill. The photo named the victim as Giselle St. Claire. What a delicate name, she thought. Poor girl. Giselle was naked, blue from the cold. She showed signs of exsanguination; the gaping wound in her neck gave that away easily. A second smile. The blood was pooled below her head, framing the scene in a macabre ruby border. Charlotte

My heart is hoping for something I didn’t plan. I never wanted to fall for Alistair any more than Giselle wanted to fall for the prince, but we can’t help who we love.