Going Mia Quotes

Someday … when we're old and gray, I'm going to look at you lying in bed beside me, just like this, and I'm going to look into your eyes and know that it's only ever been you. And that is going to be the great joy of my life.

So...Mason, Eddie, and Mia went to Spokane to hunt Strigoi?" "Yes." "Holy shit. Why didn't you go with them? Seems like something you'd do." I resisted the urge to smack him. "Because I'm not insane! But I'm going to go get them before they do something even stupider.

Love is never supposed to hurt. Love is supposed to heal, to be your haven from misery, to make living fucking worthwhile.

I'm afraid to love you. I'm afraid that you'll leave and that I'll go back to being alone again. Only it will be a hundred times worse because I'll know what I'm missing. I can't…” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I want to be able to love you more than I fear losing you, and I don't know how. Teach me, Bree. Please teach me. Don't let me destroy this.

I'm going to kiss you now, Evie, and when I do, it's going to mean that you're mine. I don't care how far away from each other we are. You. Are. Mine. I'll wait for you. And I want you to wait for me. Promise me you won't let anyone else touch you. Promise me you'll save yourself for me.

If I were going to name my blade," Mia said thoughtfully, "I'd call it 'Fluffy.

Because the problem is, you can't shut off one emotion without shutting off all your emotions. You have to feel the pain if you're going to feel the joy.

I do go to hell. Every day. For you.

Maybe having something good and then having to let it go is more painful that never knowing what you're missing

Someday, when I'm living my dreams, I'm going to think of all the things that broke my heart and I'm going to be thankful for them.

A winner is that person who gets up one more time than she is knocked down.

And secondly, losing your virginity doesn't make you a slut. I slept with your father when I was your age. . . ' 'Mia,' my father roared from the other room. 'What? So we're going to lie to her now,?' she shouted back. He walked in. 'What if your mother finds out? Or my mother?' 'Robert, it was twenty years ago. I don't think there's much they can do.' He looked at me, pointing a finger. 'No sex for you.' He used the Soup Nazi's accent from Seinfeld.

I think that when enough time has passed, when you've survived that which you didn't imagine you could, there's a dignity in that. Something you can own. A pride in knowing the pain made you stronger. The pain made you fight to succeed. Someday, when I'm living my dreams, I'm going to think of all the things that broke my heart and I'm going to be thankful for them. – TF

She said it was because one day I was going to have to go through a metamorphosis like a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly and that scared me, so butterflies scared me.

Let me be clear, la mia tigrotta. I’m taking you to bed. I’m going to strip off your clothes, bury myself deep inside you, and make you come so many times the only word from your lips will be my name, begging me to do it all over again.

It's like these fellows who name their swords 'Skullbane' or 'Souldrinker' or somesuch." Tric tied his saltlocks into a matted knot atop his head. "Tossers, all." "If I were going to name my blade," Mia said thoughtfully, "I'd call it 'Fluffy.'" Tric snorted with laughter. "Fluffy?" "Byss, yes," the girl nodded. "Think of the terror you'd instill. Being bested by a foe wielding a sword called Souldrinker... that you could live with. Imagine the shame of having the piss smacked out of you by a blade called Fluffy.

I'm going to take the high road because the low road is so crowded.

Kamu harus yakin, when you meet an ending, it's just because you're going to meet a new start.

cos' your hands were exploring more than Dora. I wouldn't have minded but Dora had a map and a compass so she knows where she was going. You on the other hand were like a tourist in the center of London. Lost as a fucking fiddle. -Mia Hastings

I don't know how to do any of this. You deserve better than the nothing I have to offer you. But it hurts even more to think of letting you go

He looked like a prince, but if I were going to cast him in a fairy tale now, I'd cast him as The Dragon! A beastly, judgmental, fire-breathing dragon.

Oh, Mia. You haven’t even begun to find out who you really are, and, believe me, other boys are going to fall in love with you. If a guy can’t see how special you are, he isn’t good enough for you.

You have to feel the pain if you're going to feel the joy.

I’m not going to save you, Mia. I don’t want to be the one. I’m going to show you how to save yourself.

We should attempt to get along,” she said breathlessly. “Get to know each other. Maybe go on a date or two.” Some of the earlier tension dissipated. “Are you asking me out, mia cara?” A smile touched my lips at her glare. “I told you to stop calling me that.” “Yes, you did.” I was going to call her mia cara every chance I got.

Mia is walking away, walking toward the other end of the bridge. Without me. I get it now. I have to make good on my promise. To let her go. To really let her go. To let us both go.

The great thing about true best friends is that when you go MIA for a few months, they inquire but they don’t press. Best friends know the power of infatuation but also how quickly it dissipates. You just have to wait it out. And then afterward, tease them about it for decades.

It's only their fight club, Liss," I said, having no need for her side of the conversation, "Nothing's going on. They're going to talk punches and kicking and other boring stuff." Well, actually that stuff was pretty sweet, but I wasn't about to glorify Christian and Mia hanging out. "Maybe now nothing's going on," she growled, staring stonily ahead. "But who knows what could happen? They spend time together, practice some physical moves, one thing leads to another—" "That's ridiculous," I said. "That kind of stuff isn't romantic at all." Another lie, seeing as that was exactly how my relationship with Dimitri had begun. Again, best not to mention that.

I learned a long time ago that there is something worse than missing the goal, and that's not pulling the trigger.

I love you, Lily of the Night. I love you so much. I'm going to love you forever, Forever. In the darkness, or in the light.

I was trying to be good, baby. I wanted you to see that I’m not that same guy you once knew. I’ll never be that guy. I’ll never hurt you, Mia, and I’ll fucking kill anyone that does. But this is it. Once I have you again, I’m not letting you go. So you better be damn sure this is what you want because there’s no going back after this.

I was sitting in this small coffee shop a couple days ago and I saw this old man sitting at a table across from me. He looked so lonely, so sad. I was too, but it suddenly occurred to me that some people go through their whole lives never being loved or loving as deeply as I love you. There's always going to be the chance that I could lose you in this lifetime. There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss. But in that moment, I decided that I was more interested in focusing on the great privilege I've been given in having you at all.

All the world's a circus. Sometimes you choose your act and sometimes it's assigned to you. I had roamed the arena for far too long, roaring and bellowing, believing that I wasn't brave enough to leap through fire. But all along, she had stood there, constant and calm."I can't make the fire go away," she had seemed to say, "I can't guarantee you won't get burned. But I can hold this hoop for you, I can remain steady and strong, because I believe in you. Because you are mine." And in the end, I had jumped. And the other side was just as glorious as her eyes had promised.

I’m going to take you away from here, to a place where my bed is your bed, and my home is your home. And in that place, I’ll never be more than an arm’s reach from you.

I'm not going to make you remember me, Mia. I’m going to make it where you can’t remember anything else.

Go for the Goal!

Lucy picked up her skirts and danced down the hall to her own door. “I’m going to run away to Ireland!” she yelled. Cassandra followed after her. “Haven’t the Irish suffered enough?” “Maybe a pirate will kidnap me. If I’m lucky.” “If we’re all lucky.

Anyway, how about some champagne?” “Blaire, champagne won’t make your problems go away.” “You’re right. However, champagne makes everything better.”      

And I think What does it matter that it is not a linear equation if any variable is raised to a power? We’re all just going to die anyway.

Someday, I said, when we're old and gray, I'm going to look at you lying in bed beside me, just like this, and I'm going to look into your eyes and know that it's only ever been you. And that is going to be the great joy of my life, Bree Prescott.

I can't make the fire go away," she had seemed to say, "I can't guarantee you won't get burned. But I can hold this hoop for you, I can remain steady and strong, because I believe in you. Because you are mine.

Saturday, December 12, 8 p.m., the Loft I WILL PASS ALGEBRA THIS SEMESTER, and NOTHING IS GOING TO DISTRACT ME FROM STUDYING FOR THE FINAL!!!!!!!!!!! Saturday, December 12, 9 p.m., the Loft I just had to go out and see the part where Bruce Willis throws the explosives down the elevator shaft, but now I am back to work.

Is everything all right? Is everything all right? Hmm, hold on a minute, let me see . . . my mom is going out with my Algebra teacher, a subject I’m flunking, by the way; my best friend hates me; I’m fourteen years old and I’ve never been asked out; I don’t have any breasts; and oh, I just found out I’m the princess of Genovia.

She stared into my eyes. “Oh shit. You idiot. You totally did! You fell in love with the porn star!” She groaned, leaning back and sliding down in her chair. “Oh God, this is worse than I thought. When you let loose, you really go all out, don’t you girlfriend? Holy crapola.

People will come and go from your life for all kinds of acceptable and crappy reasons…So you’ve got to be your own best friend, know who you are, and never let anyone tell you you’re something you know you’re not.

My, my," he said, looking the note over. "If only students would write this much in their essays. One of you has considerably worse writing than the other, so forgive me if I get anything wrong here." He cleared his throat."'So, I saw J last night,' begins the person with bad handwriting, to which the response is,'What happened,' followed by no fewer than five question marks. Understandable, since sometimes one—let alone four—just won't get the point across, eh?" The class laughed, and I noticed Mia throwing me a particularly mean smile. "The first speaker responds:'What do you think happened? We hooked up in one of the empty lounges.'“ Mr. Nagy glanced up after hearing some more giggles in the room. His British accent only added to the hilarity. "May I assume by this reaction that the use of 'hook up' pertains to the more recent, shall we say,carnal application of the term than the tamer one I grew up with?” More snickers ensued. Straightening up, I said boldly, "Yes, sir, Mr. Nagy. That would be correct, sir." A number of people in the class laughed outright. "Thank you for that confirmation, Miss Hathaway. Now, where was I? Ah yes, the other speaker then asks,'How was it?' The response is,'Good,' punctuated with a smiley face to confirm said adjective. Well. I suppose kudos are in order for the mysterious J, hmmm?'So, like, how far did you guys go?' Uh, ladies," said Mr. Nagy, "I do hope this doesn't surpass a PG rating.'Not very.We got caught.'And again, we are shown the severity of the situation, this time through the use of a not-smiling face.'What happened?' 'Dimitri showed up. He threw Jesse out and then bitched me out.'“ The class lost it, both from hearing Mr. Nagy say "bitched" and from finally getting some participants named. "Why, Mr.Zeklos, are you the aforementioned J? The one who earned a smiley face from the sloppy writer?

Why is it every time I think I’m moving on and things seem to be going well, you come back into my life and fuck with everything? Reminding me of what I can’t have?

Mia, you're going to need to really up your game in order to bring sexy back.

There’s light in the darkness, man. I promise you. And you’re going to be a part of it. There’s no one better than you to be a part of it.

I’m going to be honest here and tell you I fucking hate that Andrew knows your secrets. He doesn’t deserve to.” Okay, then. I guess we’re talking about this whether I want to or not. “So, what? You think you do?” “I’d take better care of them,” he says softly.

But Grandmère is just like all those other women who go around wanting the same rights as men, but don’t want to call themselves feminists. Because that isn’t “feminine.

Oh God!" I moan out as her hand slows. Will it always be like this with her? Holy shit. I’ll be dead by the time I’m thirty-two. But what a way to go. Death by orgasm. He came so hard he had an aneurism. Lucky bastard.

Hey,” he said, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs wide. “I’m more than willing to change my last name and give up my citizenship for you. I’ll even walk two steps behind you in public after we’re married, like a proper prince consort. But the birth control thing is going to have to be up to you, because obviously nothing can contain what these bad boys are packing.” “Did you seriously just refer to your testicles as ‘bad boys’?” “I did. It’s not as if you didn’t have warning, Mia. As has been previously stated—by that bastion of fine reporting, InTouch, no less—I am the world’s greatest lover.” “More like the world’s greatest idiot.

You can keep walking away from this, and I’m going to keep letting you, because even when you think you leave, your heard always stays, and it’s something I carry with pride, and it’s something I don’t…” He paused, his gaze tearing away from mine for a second, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s something I don’t fuck with. Ever. So if you feel like you need a break, I’ll give you a break, but don’t think for a second I’m not coming after you again, Mia. And I swear to God, the next time I do, it’s forever.

Pain of the past never goes away, you just find a way to deal with it. And in the future....... all the promise it holds.... that's what keeps you moving forward, and out of the darkness.

I'm going to take it slow this time. We're going to burn every stroke, every touch, and every kiss into our skin so when we're back together, it will only then just be cooling. While we're apart, we'll still be keeping each other warm.

You can't hold to anything that wants to go.

No matter how hard lots of people tried, I wasn't going away. The universe was stuck with me.

I’m going to kill you either way. I’m just trying to decide if I should let her ass-fuck you with a tree branch first.

I’m almost 36, and I have learned that I don’t really need to “appreciate everyone’s point of view.” I mean, you can have politics that are opposed to mine. Fine. But if you do, we are not going to be friends.

You should want to win. I still remember when I was little. Girls would score a goal, and we would walk together, high-five, and walk back to our positions. Boys are running around, going "I'm Number One." It wasn't like that for young girls. With girls, if you miss the ball on a tackle and hit the other player, it's like, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry.

The way things are going, I wouldn't be surprised if pretty soon I start wearing ripped-up fishnet stockings and dyeing my hair black. Maybe I'll even start smoking and get my ears double-pierced or something. And then they'll make a TV movie about me and call it Royal Scandal. It will show me going up to Prince William and saying,'Who's the most popular young royal now, huh, punk?' and then headbutting him or something.

So you don’t know who the dad is?” “It’s a bit of a Mamma Mia situation, I’m afraid,” I answer. “Here we go again,” Bo mutters under his breath

I look past them to where Will and his friends are sitting, and he catches my eye for a moment and smiles. It’s a weird smile, but it reaches his eyes and I bottle it. And I put it in my ammo pack that’s kept right next to my soul. The one that holds Mia’s scent and Justine’s spirit and Siobhan’s hope and Tara’s passions. Because if I’m going to wake up one morning and not be able to get out of bed, I’m going to need everything I’ve got to fight this bastard of a disease that could be sleeping inside of me.

His lips graze my neck as he leans in. “Oooh, now I know you are trying to get fucked. But you have to know by now, I like to make you suffer for it. So you’re going to wait a little longer before I give you my cock, Mia.

Maybe it would have made no difference, but he could not bear the thought of her, so proud and alone, going out to do battle with the world, without knowing someone loved her so much he would fight any battle by her side.

I turned her around to face me and brought my hands up, Someday, I said, when we're old and gray, I'm going to look at you lying in bed beside me, just like this, and I'm going to look into your eyes and know that it's only ever been you. And that is going to be the great joy of my life, Bree Prescott.

I’ll say because each marriage is different and people cheat for so many different reasons. Some people cheat because they can, because they know they won’t get caught, because of boredom or lust, because it’s their way to reach out, show that they need help—to ask for help. Whatever your reasons, before you end your marriage, make sure you’re aware that there’s no going back.

The people who are your friends before you got the crown are the people who are going to be your best friends no matter what. Because they are the ones who love you for you-in all your geekiness- and not because of what they can get out of you. Weirdly, in some instances, even the people who were your enemies before you got famous can end up being better friends to you become friends with after you become famous. And even when those friends get mad at you, you still need them, even more than ever. Because they are the people who are willing to tell you the truth.

I do go to hell. Every day. For you." And then he whirled around and stalked out of the library, leaving me trembling and confused, angry and hurt. But I didn't cry. I refused to cry another tear over Kyland Barrett.

Once we were outside, I was so excited I could hardly stand it. “Grandmère!” I yelled. “What’d you say to them? What’d you say to convince them to let me go?” But Grandmère just laughed in this scary way and said, “I have my ways.” Boy, did I ever not hate her then.

– and Mia realized that she was crossing into a place she would have to go alone.

You need to look the fucking sick joke that is life straight in the eye and tell it to bring its fucking A game because you shouldn’t go down without a fight.

This is Leo's first night here. Leo was in charge of putting the napkins out and I notice that he put them on the right and they're supposed to go on the left. I only know this because I like to read books like Ann of Green Gables, and Little House on the Prairie, and I pick up random things like that from the stories.

You drive me crazy,” he murmured. He brushed his lips across mine lightly and I shivered. “And you make the darkness go away. You bring me some kind of peace.” He let out a harsh exhale of breath and I drank it in. “I don’t know what to do with it.” “Take it, Ky,” I whispered. “You deserve some peace. Let me give it to you.

I didn’t make the rules, sweetheart, but I’m damned well going to play by them. And if you want me to do the job you hired me for, you will too.” Sweetheart?. “Got it, honey bunches,” I mumbled… He shot me a glance over his shoulder, that miniscule lip quirk taking me off guard again.

I whirled around. “It wasn’t just a kiss,” I said. I was getting really mad. “Maybe that’s how you wanted it to look, like it was just a kiss. But you and I both know what it really was: A media event. And one that you’ve been planning since you saw me in the Post. Well, thank you, Josh, but I can get my own publicity. I don’t need you.

You don’t know?” he whispered harshly. “You truly don’t know that you mean everything to me?” Hardly daring to believe her ears, Mia pushed at his chest to put a little distance between them so she could look up at his face. “I do?” “Of course, you do.” His gaze burned into her with an intensity she had never seen before. “How could you doubt it?” “Are . . . are you saying you love me?” she asked tremulously, afraid to even voice such a possibility. What if he said no? What if she’d misunderstood him, and he would now laugh at her silliness? Her chest tightened in anxious anticipation. “Mia, I love you more than life itself,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “If anything happened to you . . . If you were gone, I would not want to go on living. Do you understand me?

Mia, stop!" My voice bounces off her bedroom walls. "We are not in high school anymore!" She looks at me, a question hanging in the air. "Look, my tour doesn't start for another week." A feather of hope starts to float across the space between us. "And you know, I was thinking I was craving some sushi." Her smile is sad and rueful, not exactly what I was going for. "You'd come to Japan with me?" "I'm already there.

I think . . . I think, Calder, that we have to figure out how to forgive, not for the people who wronged us, but for us. We can't keep bitterness attached to our hearts because eventually, it might become part of us—so deeply ingrained we can't work it back out. I think we have to focus on the beauty we've been given in this life, and make that the thing that defines us. Because people defined by bitterness end up destroying themselves from the inside out, and eventually they destroy everyone who tries to love them, too. That's not going to be us.

Mia. I will never share you. I will never trade you. I will never leave you. You are mine, and I will not let you go.

There’s so much that has happened between us. Maybe we’ll be able to let it go and put it behind us, maybe we won’t. But right now he’s here with me. And that’s all that matters.

Trust yourself. Go with your gut.

Go, brother! If I’m not back aboard in half an hour, tell your wife I love her!

If I could wave a magic wand and eliminate one term from the lexicon of racism discussion, it would be “reverse-racism”. It’s the go-to of every clueless person who can’t be bothered to take any time to understand anything about history or context. Every time I hear it, my faith in humanity diminishes. Use of that term is the easiest way to tell that someone has no idea what racism actually is. These are the same people who will, in response to a POC’s complex and nuanced understanding of racism, quote the dictionary definition to us. They can’t fathom that we know more about our own experiences than the dictionary. ‘Reverse-racism’ is not a thing. Tell your friends.

They would go down fighting, but they were going to die there. And he thought dying would be all right. It was going to break Roland's heart to lose the boy...yet he would go on. As long as the Dark Tower stood, Roland would go on. Jake looked up. "She said, 'Remember the struggle.' " "Susannah did." "Yes. She came forward. Mia let her. And the song moved Mia. She wept." "Say true?" "True. Mia, daughter of none, mother of one. And while Mia was distracted...her eyes blind with tears..." Jake looked around. Oy looked around with him, likely not searching for anything but only imitating his beloved Ake. Callahan was remembering that night on the Pavilion. The lights. The way Oy had stood on his hind legs and bowed to the folken. Susannah, singing. The lights. The dancing, Roland dancing the commala in the lights, the colored lights. Roland dancing in the white. Always Roland; and in the end, after the others had fallen, murdered away one by one in these bloody motions, Roland would remain.

Bad things don't happen to people because they deserve for them to happen. It just doesn't work that way. It's just… life. And no matter who we are, we have to take the hand we're dealt, crappy though it may be, and try our very best to move forward anyway, to love anyway, to have hope anyway… to have faith that there's a purpose to the journey we're on. I grabbed his hands in mine for a second and then let go so that I could continue. And try to believe that maybe more light shines out of those who have the most cracks.

It's meant to strip you bare in order to heal. Be brave enough not to fight it. Surrender, my boy. Let go. For just once, have the courage to let go.

things that I never could: “Honey, could you take this?” or “Here, can you hold her for a second?” The child could go from one parent’s arms to the other’s. There were countless times I told Mia she had to walk, because my arms were tired and I couldn’t hold her anymore.

Is the time you're from a good place?" Dorea asked. "Yes," Mia admitted sadly, "but only after so much suffering." "And if you changed something now, who is to say that there would not be more suffering?" Dorea stood and moved to sit directly beside Mia, taking both of her hands within her own and sighing as Mia began to cry. "You don't understand . . . people are going to die." Dorea inclined her head. "People tend to do that. Mia, sweetheart, we are all given a number of years to live our lives. The content, not the length of those years, is what matters.

He's not going to flip out again, is he?" Jessie sounded scared. "What? No, of course not," Mia said automatically. "Uh-huh," Jessie said doubtfully. "He wont," Mia said with confidence, looking directly at Korum. She knew perfectly well that he could hear her. He stared back at her. His eyes still had those dangerous golden flecks in them, but one corner of his mouth tilted up, a ghost of a smile stealing across his face. Mia continued looking at him, her own eyes narrowed, and the smile became a full-blown grin, transforming his features from merely gorgeous to out-of-this-world sexy. Then he turned away and continued speaking to Edgar, as though nothing had happened. "Holy shit," Jessie breathed, her eyes huge. "You did it! Mia, you f***ing did it..." "Did what?" "You tamed a K.

I'm going to lay it out straight for you here, Carson. And the reason that I'm going to do that is because I have every confidence that it will scare you off badly enough that I can then finish my drink in peace, and we can part as acquaintances who simply have nothing in common." He raised one eyebrow and I joined my hands in my lap, tilting my head as I continued. "I'm the kind of girl who wants to get married in a big, white dress, wearing my grandma's pearls. I want a husband who love me and is faithful to me. I want him to come home me every night, and I don't want to have to worry if he's doing his secretary, because he's the kind of man who has too much honor to do that. I want to wait a year and then I want to start trying for the two kids that we'll eventually have, a girl and a boy. And when we have those kids, I do not want, one day, to have to explain why their daddy is on the internet having relations with everyone from College Honeys to Cougars Gone Wild for money. I want to throw a cartoon themed birthday party at a jump house for my six year old, not mark the occasion by explaining what a "money shot" is. I have a feeling your life goals are somewhat different than mine. And by 'somewhat,' I mean, utterly and completely. Does that explain why it would be a waste of time for both of us to continue being in each other's presence?" Chapter 1

To my family, who’ve always encouraged me to go after my not-Asian-approved career choice of writing. Especially you, Mommy—you introduced me to the world of mysteries and shared your love of culinary cozies with me. This whole series is for you. Daddy, I will never bring the care and attention to cooking that you always did, but I hope you tasted the love all the same. I miss you so much, but I hope I did you proud.

If it makes you feel any better Tory, they were just as bad when Mia was born. At least you don’t have Sin, Kish, and Damien running around, trying to boil water for no other reason than that’s what someone had told Sin husbands are supposed to do and since Sin doesn’t know how to boil water, he had to micromanage the other two incompetents who’d never done it either. I’m amazed they didn’t band together to kill him during it or burn down the casino. And don’t get me started on my mother trying to murder my husband in the middle of it or her fighting with grandma over whose labors were more painful. Or, (she cast a meaningful glance to Simi,) someone setting my mother’s hair on fire and trying to barbecue her to celebrate the birth.” – Kat “That an old Charonte custom that go back forever ’cause we a really old race of demons who go back even before forever. When a new baby is born you kill off an old annoying family member who gets on everyone’s nerves which for all of us would be the heifer-goddess ’cause the only person who like her be you, Akra-Kat. I know she you mother and all, but sometimes you just gotta say no thank you. You a mean old heifer-goddess who need to go play in tragic and get run over by something big like a steamroller or bus or something else really painful that would hurt her a lot and make the rest of us laugh. Not to mention the Simi barbecue would have been fun too if someone, Akra-Kat, hadn’t stopped the Simi from it. I personally think it would have been a most magnificent gift for the baby. Barbecued heifer-goddess Artemis. Yum! No better meal. Oh then again baby got a delicate constitution and that might give the poor thing indigestion. Artemis definitely give the Simi indigestion and I ain’t even ate her yet.” – Simi

Self-care can also just be another thing you procrastinate on and feel shitty about not doing. It can be another bullet on our to-do list, or a mask—Think positive thoughts! Document your gratitude!—that hides our messiness from ourselves and others. It is also some shamey, disingenuous bullshit to be told that if we practice deep breathing or detox from sugar, we’ll find some ease when the pain and exhaustion we’re feeling is mostly perpetuated by our culture. Your getting in your steps doesn’t make the hardship of experiencing systemic oppression or the energy suck of capitalism go away.

You cannot look at me like that, piccola, or I am sure to go up in flames." Desari allowed her fingers to tangle in his golden mane. "Thank you for thinking of my family when I could not." Her voice was a whisper of seduction, sliding over his hot skin. Just the sound of it made every muscle in his body clench. Julian made another effort to breathe. Air.It was all around him, yet he couldn't seem to drag enough into his lungs. He took her hand in his and carried it to the warmth of his mouth. "We need to find a safe subject, cara mia, or I will not make it through these next few minutes." Desaris soft laughter was like music in the wind. She perched on a large tree trunk that lay across the forest floor. The breeze tugged at her long hair so that it shifted around her like a veil, one moment hiding the temptation of bare, gleaming skin, the next revealing it. "A safe subject," she mused aloud. "What would that be?" The air slammed out of his lungs once again at the sight of her. She looked so much a part of her surroundings. Wild. Sexy. Provocative. "You might try closing your shirt." His voice sounded hoarse and desperate even to his own ears.

Moony's been shagging her for years. I only had her once". Mia's mouth fell open as she spun on Sirius, half tempted to let her brother hex the hell out of him. "Had me? I'm sorry. You HAD me?" "Not that I'm saying our one time was less than perfection," Sirius went on as though Mia was not currently staring daggers into his head. He gestured to Remus. "Certainly better than the total of your handful of little moments." "Little?" Remus asked, his eyes narrowing. "Would you like me to get a Pensieve and show you? You'll have to go down to the apothecary, though; I only have a couple dozen phials for memories, and I'll need at least twice that to let you have an accurate portrayal." "Fine!" Sirius stood and glowered at Remus. "When you're picking up your tiny phials," he said, wiggling his pinky finger at him, "pick up an extra large one for me, and I'll show you my memory and how she likes it when I—" "Oh, believe me," Remus darkly interrupted, "I know better than anyone exactly what she likes!

Jessabelle, I'm sorry to just leave, but I need some time. Time to get my head back on straight. Time to remember who I really am. Time with my Creator, the one who knew before the foundations of the earth what would happen over the last few days. I wish more than anything, that I could process all of this with you, go through all of this together, because I'm coming to understand that, out of all the men in the world, God picked me for you. It's so much more than lineage. It's you. How you've come into your own. How you've blossomed and grown. I'm so privileged to see that secret side of you-the side no one else gets to see. The side where you secretly paint your second toenail a different color because everyone else does the fourth one, but you're not sure my mother would approve so you never wear open-toed shoes to show them off. You only eat M&Ms in odd numbers. You use your right hand to put hair behind your ear, but never your left. You didn't know I knew those things, did you? I've watched you over the last few months and learned more about you than I realized until I tried to put my thoughts on paper. You're sleeping just feet away from me as I write this. Your even breathing brings some peace to my troubled soul. The small smile on your face makes me wonder what your dreaming about and if, in your sleep, you've managed to find happiness instead of the turmoil life always seems to bring. I have to stop myself from wondering if dream-Jessabelle has found happiness with someone besides dream-Malachi, because I've realized something in the last couple of days. I love you. My life didn't really begin until you walked down the aisle into it. I want to be man enough to tell you to your face, to kiss you, to tell you over and over what you've come to mean to me, but I can't. Not yet... You are the only one for me, sweet Mia Belle. I love you with my entire being, in a way I never believed possible to love another person. I didn't know this kind of love truly existed outside of fairy tales. Always, Kai

You can sit,” Maggot said in a small, shy voice. Mia did as she was bid, holding her throbbing hand to her chest. Maggot toddled across the room, fishing about in a series of chests. She returned with a handful of wooden splints and a ball of woven brown cotton. “Hold out your hand,” the girl commanded. Mia’s shadow swelled, Mister Kindly drinking her fear at the thought of what was to come. Maggot looked her digits over, stroking her chin. And gentle as falling leaves, she took hold of Mia’s smallest finger. “It won’t hurt,” she promised. “I’m very good at this.” “All riiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAGHH!” Mia howled as Maggot popped her finger back into place, quick as silver. She rose from the slab and bent double, clutching her hand. “That HURT!” she yelled. Maggot gave a solemn nod. “Yes.” “You promised it wouldn’t!” “And you believed me.” The girl smiled sweet as sugarfloss. “I told you, I’m very good at this.” She motioned to the slab again. “Sit back down.” Mia blinked back hot tears, hand throbbing in agony. But looking at her finger, she could see Maggot had worked it right, popping the dislocated joint back into place neat as could be. Breathing deep, she sat back down and dutifully proffered her hand. The little girl took hold of Mia’s ring finger, looked up at her with big, dark eyes. “I’m going to count three,” she said. “All riiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaFUCK!” Mia roared as Maggot snapped the joint back into place. She rose and half-danced, half-hopped about the room, wounded hand between her legs. “Shit cock twat fucking fuckitall!” “You swear an awful lot,” Maggot frowned. “You said you were going to count three!” Maggot nodded sadly. “You believed me again, didn’t you?” Mia winced, teeth gritted, looking the girl up and down. “ . . . You are very good at this,” she realized. Maggot smiled, patted the bench. “Last one.” Sighing, Mia sat back down, hand shaking with pain as Maggot gently took hold of her middle finger. She looked at Mia solemnly. “Now this one is really going to hurt,” she warned. “Wa—” The Blade flinched as Maggot popped the finger back in. Mia blinked. “Ow?” she said. “All done,” Maggot smiled. “But that was the easiest of the lot?” Mia protested. “I know,” Maggot replied. “I’m—” “—very good at this,” they both finished. Maggot began splinting Mia’s fingers, binding them tight to limit their movement. The three circles branded into the little girl’s cheek weren’t so much of a mystery anymore . . .

You are the lifemate of a senstive, modern male. Julian's lazy amusement warmed her further, confirming what she already suspected, that he often stayed a shadow in her mind. How fortunate for me. Desari smiled at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. There was a sparkle in her eyes. She knew Julian had made her feel more alive than she had ever been. Sensitive, modern men are so to my liking. Men? I am certain I did not hear my lifemate use the word men.The plural.No man is allowed to be to your liking other than myself. He sounded stern, the fierce Carpathian male at his most menacing. Desari laughed aloud. I suppose I can see your point, Julian, but really, it is so difficult to keep from noticing all of those handsome hunks in the audience. Handsome hunks? His voice dropped low with the affront. They are more like lovesick fops. If they could feel the vibrations in the air, they would show sense and run for their lives. It is bad enough to read their fantasies and hear them talk their trash, cara,but it is altogether worse to hear that my woman is looking back. One smile at the wrong man, lifemate, and trouble will find the man quickly. You sound jealous,she accused him, amusement curving her soft mouth. The first rule for all women to know and never forget is that Carpathian makes do not share their lifemates. Your brother has much to answer for that this was not drilled into you since birth.It was his job to prepare you for my coming. It was said somewhere between jest and complaint. Desari drew in her breath sharply, finding herself wavering between laughter and exasperation. My brother had no idea of your existence, you arrogant male. Besides, how could he possibly prepare me for your total ignorance of women? More likely, had he known you were coming to speak your ritual words, he would have been waiting to ambush you.I myself would have burrowed deep within the ground until you passed beyond my surroundings. You would have burst from the ground staight into my arms,cara mia, and you know this to be true. Now he was laughing, that smug, taunting, male amusement that should have set her teeth on edge but instead made her laugh. I think you are trying to find something to dictate to me about just so you do not lose your ability. Go away and practice this male art form on someone else. You will be singing to me tonight, piccola,and to no other man. You are a spoiled little boy,not a grown man. Should I come show you what a grown man I am? His voice was suddenly low and warm, so sexy she felt a rush of answering heat. She could feel the brush of his fingers against her throat, trailing down the valley between her suddenly aching breasts. Go away,Julian, she laughed in answer. I cannot have you getting me hot and bothered just now. As long as I know you re hot and bothered for me, I will do as you request and go back to work. I can only hope.