Paranormal Book Quotes

Tasers are a one-size-fits-all paranormal butt-kicking option. Mine’s pink with rhinestones.

Oo, I like a good cat fight – especially when it doesn’t involve me,’ Oscar said. ‘Shut up!’ Bryony and Raya said simultaneously. A hairline crack formed in the ice between them.

Out of all the paranormal books I'd read and reviewed, no one glowed like this. Some glittered in the light. Others had wings. No one was a freaking giant sun.

Did you recently turn into a jerk or have you been one since birth?

I could recognise his soul in mine as much as he could find me in his. Our sole existences seemed to have been for this very moment when nothing else mattered.

Life is a book waiting to happen.

I do care about real life. It's just not as interesting as what's in my books.

Do I look like I want to be involved in your teen love saga? Ask someone who cares.

Why did you wear heels? How are you supposed to fight a gargoyle in what you're wearing?

Silver knives! Painful and sometimes deadly to all paranormals!' 'Tasey!' I counterd 'Hot pink and sparkly!

Before she knew it, Remy found herself daydreaming about Logan holding her tight against his lean, muscular body.

Your life is a book; make it a bestseller.

Rhys shuddered, and I watched his cock twitch. “Play later,” he ground out. Indeed. His mouth found mine, the kiss open and deep, a clash of tongues and teeth. He lay me down on the pillows, and I locked my legs around his back, careful of the wings. Though I stopped caring as he nudged at my entrance. And paused. “Play later,” I snarled into his mouth. Rhys laughed and slid in. And in. And in.

Favorite Quotations. I speak my mind because it hurts to bite my tongue. The worth of a book is measured by what you carry away from it. It's not over till it's over. Imagination is everything. All life is an experiment. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls the butterfly.

She took a deep breath, "Last chance. Are you in need of rescuing?" His expression turned very strange, almost as if she'd struck him, "Yes," he said finally.

You are such a tease, Remy—you just love to lead every guy on. Don’t you? But you’re the one who’s going to get hurt. Logan is a player. Trust me, I know him and his kind.

Well, can you tell her that?" He looked down at his feet. "I will. I will." Guy-speak for, "I plan to keep avoiding her until she gives up.

Oh, Remy, get off your high horse; everyone knows you have staked your claim on the new guy.

You'll get fired if anyone finds out about us!" "So many rules in this century," Vane muttered.

If I were to lock you up in a dungeon, I guarantee you would not be bored.

Plus, I happened to be a history nerd. Why else would I be interested in a guy born in the year 519?

He’s so powerful. Who knows maybe he’s advanced past eating

Reading a good book in silence is like eating chocolate for the rest of your life and never getting fat.

Little mouse," a voice said through the keyhole. "Don't you know the more you wriggle, the greater the cat's delight?

He whom the gods love dies young.

This isn't a book. This isn't a paranormal fantasy or whatever the hell it is you read. There is no set plot or clear idea of where any of this is going. The enemies aren't obvious. There are no guaranteed happy endings.

She felt like she was missing something–as if there was more to the Shepherd than met the eye—but the harder she had tried to figure out what it was, the less she was able to come up with an answer. There was something about the dog that was vaguely familiar.

This life is a virtual simulation game where you can win or lose, you can continue playing for the rest of your life or join the club. You decide! You only have to respect one rule because your stay in the human farm will depend on that, continue playing until the end no matter how many times you are brought into this reality, so stay awake with your eyes wide open and your mouth tight shut." Welcome to the game of life, welcome to the matrix.

That settles it, no more books about vampire before bedtime.

I'm going to take off your gag. And if you try to bite me or grab me or anything, I'll hit you with this thing as hard as I can as many times as I can. Understood?

The combination of razor-sharp wit (completely real) and his credentials (completely fake) had won them over in the end.

She was addicted to literature like some people were addicted to heroin.

You also would love to hang out with Logan. And don’t even try to deny, you think Logan is super-hot. I know you. You like him, and he likes you. He was insanely worried about you last night. He’s either head over heels for you or he’s your guardian angel. He was insanely worried about you last night. If I didn’t know you had just met, I would swear he was in love with you.” Meredith said in an excited tone.

The last declaration he'd made to me hung between us. The L word. The one that had nothing to do with like.

Maybe it was that nearly everyone else was dead and she felt a little bit dead too, but she figured that even a vampire deserved to be saved. Maybe she ought to leave him, but she wasn't going to.

Keep going' she told herself, 'Don't look back.' But she looked anyways.

She gazed around with a bored air. "This feels just like Law and Order. But shouldn't you lawyer up before I throw the book at you? No? So what's in the IV bag?

Be careful," Aidan called from the bed. "You don't know what he might do." "We all know what you'd do, though, don't we?

I don't want to be a vampire' she told herself. But in her dreams, she kind of did.

Yield, and I'll eat your little pussy... first.

My name is Arianna Morganna Brittany DuLac--you can imagine why I went by the name Ryan.

Always just a brainstorm away from our next disaster...

The gentle pulsing and flickering of stars and nebulae made a kind of music, a sweet easy mesh of whispered tones and sighing harmonies that held him in its force like the earth [holding] the moon.

You said you were allowed to lose it,' some part of her reminded herself. 'Not yet, not yet.

Another silence for the record books. Then he sighs. "I know. It's crazy. I feel like --" He stops himself. He suddenly looks so miserable that my heart aches for him. I hate my life.

Please,” I gasped out. He just brushed his lips against my jaw, my neck, my mouth. “Tamlin,” I begged. He palmed my breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple. I cried out, and he buried himself in me with a mighty stroke. For a moment, I was nothing, no one. Then we were fused, two hearts beating as one, and I promised myself it always would be that way as he pulled out a few inches, the muscles of his back flexing beneath my hands, and then slammed back into me. Again and again. I broke and broke against him as he moved, as he murmured my name and told me he loved me. And when that lightning once more filled my veins, my head, when I gasped out his name, his own release found him. I gripped him through each shuddering wave, savoring the weight of him, the feel of his skin, his strength. For a while, only the rasp of our breathing filled the room. I frowned as he withdrew at last—but he didn’t go far. He stretched out on his side, head propped on a fist, and traced idle circles on my stomach, along my breasts.

Why fear death? It is the most beautiful adventure in life.

In the dream, Tana's mother loved her more than anyone or anything. More than death.

Behind Tana there was the sounds of splintering wood, as though something very large had hot the door. "No," she said softly, "Oh no. No." "Leave me," said Gavriel. ....."Shut up or I might," she told him.

If you jotted down all of my ill-thought out comments, you could write a book entitled, Guide to Getting Punched in the Throat for Boneheads-Mad Hatter in "Death of the Mad Hatter" (Coming Soon!)

His voice had a faint trace of an accent she couldn't place - one that made her pretty sure he was no local kid infected the night before.

please,Tana,please.' -lots of characters in The Coldest Girl in Coldtown

If you’re going to clean me, you’ll do it with your tongue, Natasha.

I'm sorry,' she said to each of the dead as she unzipped and unfastened their things, 'I'm sorry Courtney. I'm sorry Marcus. I'm sorry Rachel. I'm sorry Jon. I'm sorry I'm alive and you're dead. I'm sorry I was asleep. I'm sorry I didn't save you and now I'm taking your things. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Words were torn from him. Ones he’d never spoken, in a language long since extinct, but only they could truly convey what she was to him, how much she meant. Eternity wouldn’t be enough...

Note to self: don’t throw things at girls.

Are you sure?" Aidan asked, "Gavriel's still a vampire." "He warned me about you and about them. He didn't have to. I'm not going to repay that by-" she hesitated, then frowned. "What did you call him?" "That's his name," Aidan sighed, "Gavriel. The other vampires, while they were tying me to the bed, they said his name." "Oh." With a final tug she pulled the blanked free and tossed it over to 'Gavriel

That was some branch. Did it have a vendetta against your t-shirt?” “Guess so.” “I hope you showed it who is boss.” “Yeah, I peed on it.

from Out of the Darkness (book 2): Zoe met Eric's eyes. Even in her platforms she was still a few inches shorter than he was. "And what do you do?" His mouth quirked. "I set people on fire.

Just for tonight, let's pretend I'm not a priest and you're not crazy. We're just two normal human beings having a good time. Just a man and a woman at a rip-off carnival, living in the moment.

My death granted immortality. With one look, I knew he’d be my undoing…” Forgotten, book #1 of the Fate Trilogy

Dying's a bitch, and I would know.

Paranormal suspense and romance together in one non-stop rollercoaster of passion and adventure. - Love Romance Passion

Let the whole world knock. I'm not opening that door.

The calm serenity of the breeze as it blows across the ocean releases the tangled web within my mind.

Soft sun shone down on a misty cathedral at the opposite end of a football-field length courtyard. The cathedral had a long pointed tower with beautiful rose and ivory stained glass windows. Pink-petal flowers and deep green ivy climbed the stones from the ground to it’s roof. A large fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard with water falling from several lion’s heads. Between the misty air and rolling slope of the earth, the grounds reminded me of a long lost fairy tale.

Mortals were such fickle creatures. They called into the dark, demanded answers and attention from forces they could not comprehend, and yet when they had that attention and those answers, they complained about them.

It is my greatest wish that victims of paranormal attack are treated with the respect and compassion they deserve, and that by writing this book, it will encourage others to come forward and share their stories also.

A word can change a mind, a sentence can change a life and a book can change the world.

Holy crap, you are like a dog with a bone,” I commented to Ryan. “Or just one with a boner.

Helping your weapon reach your target is easy. Watching someone accept that their life is over before it ever became something is not quite as simple.

When choosing between doing the thing you want to do, and need to do...just like momma always says...Eat your spinach first, then you can enjoy your desert:)

Face of an angel, voice of a serpent

The more thou search, the more thou shall marvel.

His eyes go wide while a gasp of wonder passes his lips. He turns his body fully toward us. His lips moving like a fish out of water, gasping for breath. He gives his head a shake and stutters out, “Mer—mermaids. There are fish with women’s bodies or—women with fish bodies sitting upon the rocks. I—I never knew...

Terry Spear weaves paranormal, suspense, and romance together in one non-stop rollercoaster of passion and adventure. - Love Romance Passion

Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. - MATTHEW 7:15

Food shouldn’t be that shade of green, lass.” – Faolán MacIntyre

I’m not trying to fix you. I don’t think you’re broken.”- Damian (Marked Book #1) page 266

Mistakes are lessons by another name.

The stars sparkled above the mist shrouded tents and caravans of the carnival. The night crackled with an odd vibration, as if a veil of peculiarity settled over the company.

It was Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the television series, 1997-2003, not the lackluster movie that preceded it) that blazed the trail for Twilight and the slew of other paranormal romance novels that followed, while also shaping the broader urban fantasy field from the late 1990s onward. Many of you reading this book will be too young to remember when Buffy debuted, so you'll have to trust us when we say that nothing quite like it had existed before. It was thrillingly new to see a young, gutsy, kick-ass female hero, for starters, and one who was no Amazonian Wonder Woman but recognizably ordinary, fussing about her nails, her shoes, and whether she'd make it to her high school prom. Buffy's story contained a heady mix of many genres (fantasy, horror, science-fiction, romance, detective fiction, high school drama), all of it leavened with tongue-in-cheek humor yet underpinned by the serious care with which the Buffy universe had been crafted. Back then, Whedon's dizzying genre hopping was a radical departure from the norm-whereas today, post-Buffy, no one blinks an eye as writers of urban fantasy leap across genre boundaries with abandon, penning tender romances featuring werewolves and demons, hard-boiled detective novels with fairies, and vampires-in-modern-life sagas that can crop up darn near anywhere: on the horror shelves, the SF shelves, the mystery shelves, the romance shelves.

This thought, this truth, it highlighted the distance between us. We lived in different timeframes. A reminder that, even right now, we didn't share the same moments. We could never truly be together.

He took the pen and book from her and faltered. “Just write anything – anything trivial that won't matter if it comes to pass.” “Erm...” God, he was useless at this. Elena's hair turned blue. “Hey!” “What?” “I don't want blue hair! What the hell did you write that for?” “It seemed trivial.” “Blue hair – blue? That's trivial? What if I can't undo it?” Karl stared at her blankly. His throat went dry. He felt like a total dickhead, but writing really wasn't his strong point, so he went for humour instead and flashed her a grin. “I was going to write that all your clothes fall off, but figured you may have a problem with that. This was the second thing that came to mind.” (Karl and Elena)

Severian moved toward her, kneeling in front of her. His voice was pleading when he said, "When I return I mean to make you mine." "Do not return here Milord." She tried to pull away but some pain she saw in his face kept her eyes locked on him. "I am for Montparte." "You have my heart Meri and I will not settle for less than an equal measure of yours.

Marilynn...passed out black cases to everyone. I opened mine to find an iPad inside. Several candidates whistled. Despite my agitated state, it impressed me too. Maybe wizard school wasn’t going to be as lame as I had thought. “All of your schedules and assignments will be done on these,” Marilynn explained. “The whole school is on these. We’ve had them for awhile now.

What do you mean 'has to be?' and what are you smiling at?" I stopped contributing to this ridiculous dance. I grabbed the teapot and began to fill it with water in the sink. Suddenly I felt the slight weight go this body against my back and the corner of his mouth brushed adjacent my ear. "How human you are," he whispered.

Well? Are you going to crouch there and gawk at me or explain yourself?" Instead of answering, the girl frowned and asked, "Why can't i read you?" A short disbelieving laugh slipped from Sherry, but when the girl simply stared at her with bewilderment, she said reasonably, "Maybe because I'm not a book.

What do you mean 'has to be?' and what are you smiling at?" I stopped contributing to this ridiculous dance. I grabbed the teapot and began to fill it with water in the sink. Suddenly I felt the slight weight of his body against my back and the corner of his mouth brushed against my ear. "How human you are," he whispered.

You can take away my anger, my fear, my fury, even my pain, but I could never live with myself if I’m not the one to bring that demon to justice. You’re all the family I have left, Serwa, and I pledged myself to you when I was a man-child of twenty-one years. Now, as a man of centuries, that responsibility hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s only gotten stronger.

I had done magic. Sometimes, when people in stories encounter the paranormal, they react with horror as the fabric of reality shreds and they are faced with the dawning recognition that everything they once believed was a lie. As I stared down at my phone, I had that exact feeling, except the opposite: not horror but a giddy, mounting joy. This was what all those books had promised. I knew it, I thought. I knew the world was more interesting than it was pretending to be.

Would you teach me, Seth?’ Seth smiled and leaned back in his seat. ‘You do realise, of course, that you have no idea what you ask of me?’ Seth replied after a moment. ‘Of course,’ Christopher replied quietly. ‘Could you tell me?’ ‘No. That is the problem you see,’ Seth said. ‘Magic is something you can never prepare someone for. Magic will make you, Christopher. It will find all the secret empty places of longing in you and fill them more surely than any other love. And magic will break your heart.’ A slight, rather sad smile crossed Christopher’s face for a moment. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You think your heart is already broken, you think that this crooked and winding way is the only path left for you now. But you’re wrong. The heart breaks like every wave on the beach and there’s a darkness you’ll have to pass through that you can’t even see from where you are now.

Just so ya know, mate, superpowers come at a cost." "What superpowers are you-" "Oi, listen. D'ya know Pinocchio? The wooden lad. Yeah, his superpower was ta lie ta everyone about anythin' he saw fit. An' I think 'tis cool if y'ask me. But it had a cost, it did. His nose grew longer with every lie. Ha! Ya see?" "No, I don't." "We're reality's lies mate. An' there's a cost ta'r existence." -Robert Cassidy, on people with paranormal abilities.

My face flushed scarlet. I was a stranger in my own skin. I had ever felt this kind of anger in my life. Fort and confusion grew. Its sensation was an overwhelming concoction of hate. The only things I knew - the only things keeping me remotely calm- was the following litany. My name is Eleanora Ada Stone. I was moved from home to home for seventeen years. I am now living on this god-forsaken island in Maine. I was being kept from a world of secrets. I have abilities. I am not human. I do not know what I am.

The Oracle handed her a small, leather bound booklet, about as thick as a pamphlet, and said, “You are a teacher, yes?” It was nice of the Oracle to phrase things in the form of a question and let people feel they were imparting information. “Yes, I am.” “Excellent. I know teachers value learning, and this book has very valuable information on gargoyles. If Terak remains part of your life, this you’ll want to know.” Larissa weighed it in her hand. “This is a very light history.” The Oracle arched one fine brow. “Why would I bother with that? This, my dear, is about how gargoyles mate.

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling sick. Olivia had experienced strangulation before. Having to look directly into the face of the person who was killing you made the experience beyond awful. But there were worse things than that. Staring into the void of unresolved memory, living an eternal mystery, waking up night after night seeing the face of someone you desperately wanted to save but having not the slightest clue how to do it—all that was worse. If going through with this experience gave her the answers she needed, if it gave her peace, it would be well worth one-hundred-and-thirty seconds of fear and pain.

His deep voice drifted to her through the crowd of women. “…my lady when she returns. Och, there ye are, Blossom,” Faolán grinned, standing up and taking her hand so she could ease back into the restaurant booth. “These lasses were just asking if I was a stripper. I told them I doona think so,” he said, his face clouded with uncertainty. “I’m not, am I?” The inquisitive lasses in question flushed scarlet and scattered to the four corners of the room at the murderous look on Colleen’s face. “No, you’re not, but I guess I can see how they’d think that,” she muttered darkly. “What you are is a freaking estrogen magnet.

Teaser from the soon to be released: Redemption of Fire; My Demon Master Book 2. (with Reference to the character, Cain, from Dormant Desires, Book 4; CAIN. In the oddest, surreal moment, I look out and see one lone face. It’s Cain, the chimera by curse and not birth. He’s been welcomed into Demon-kind as one of them. Almost a treasured being for all his uniqueness. In all reality, he is the most divine among us. The product of an angel and a Neanderthal. A very son of the first Eve. It is he alone who is not prostrate before me. Our eyes lock and my vision goes wonky. I can see details and colors and etched outlines like I never imagined. I see Cain’s magnificent aura as it embraces him like a full-body halo. He is watching the spectacle that is me with detached interest. It’s as if he has truly seen everything there is too see and this is nothing more than a repeat of some long forgotten original episode. He is unafraid. I can feel how calm he is. Before he drops his eyes, surrendering to the dominance of my dragon, he gives me a slightly amused expression and a small nod of encouragement.

YA stories feature a young adult protagonist or protagonists and usually focus on that character’s journey toward maturity (the tradition of the Bildungsroman.). Learning about love / relationships is an important part of that stage in our lives, so it’s not surprising so many writers are building strong romantic elements into their YA stories. I don’t remember quite such an emphasis on romance in the books my children read as young adults, so I do think the approach has changed. Within my genre of fantasy, there’s been an upsurge of paranormal romance, partly generated by the Twilight books, but also reflecting the popularity of this sub-genre with adult readers. There are far more female fantasy writers (and female fantasy readers) than there were, say, twenty years ago, and perhaps female writers are more confident about including a good love story in a fantasy novel. (2012 Interview by Helen Lowe: The Supernatural Underground: An Interview with Juliet Marillier Discussing "Shadowfell".)

I write for you, for me, for the 70% of us who make up the fabric of society: ordinary people with extraordinary lives, who play the roles of parents, siblings, children, neighbours and friends. We are those who work and study with tenacity, those who with effort and dedication bring sustenance to our homes, my novels and stories of horror, suspense and mystery are designed for the emerging generations, for those readers who seek freshness in literature and who feel distanced from traditional literature, with its labyrinth of ostentatious and complex words that often alienate the average citizen..., I write for the marginalised, for those who have felt that literature does not offer them a mirror in which to reflect themselves, for those who seek in the pages a refuge or an acknowledgement of their existence, I write for the free and critical spirits, for the innate rebels who question the structures and narratives of our civilisation, I write for the dreamers who imagine a world beyond the reach of politics and corporations, for those who resist being moulded by the great entertainment machines that seek to numb our minds and wills; It is my voice, through writing, that seeks to resonate with yours, inviting you on a literary journey where together we explore the confines of our reality and the abysses of our imagination".