Savage Queen Quotes

Think of every fairy-tale villainess you've ever heard of. Think of the wicked witches, the evil queens, the mad enchantresses. Think of the alluring sirens, the hungry ogresses, the savage she-beasts. Think of them and remember that somewhere, sometime, they've all been real. Mab gave them lessons.

If you are a monster, stand up. If you are a monster, a trickster, a fiend, If you’ve built a steam-powered wishing machine If you have a secret, a dark past, a scheme, If you kidnap maidens or dabble in dreams Come stand by me. If you have been broken, stand up. If you have been broken, abandoned, alone If you have been starving, a creature of bone If you live in a tower, a dungeon, a throne If you weep for wanting, to be held, to be known, Come stand by me. If you are a savage, stand up. If you are a witch, a dark queen, a black knight, If you are a mummer, a pixie, a sprite, If you are a pirate, a tomcat, a wright, If you swear by the moon and you fight the hard fight, Come stand by me. If you are a devil, stand up. If you are a villain, a madman, a beast, If you are a strowler, a prowler, a priest, If you are a dragon come sit at our feast, For we all have stripes, and we all have horns, We all have scales, tails, manes, claws and thorns And here in the dark is where new worlds are born. Come stand by me.

The beautiful wooden board on a stand in my father’s study. The gleaming ivory pieces. The stern king. The haughty queen. The noble knight. The pious bishop. And the game itself, the way each piece contributed its individual power to the whole. It was simple. It was complex. It was savage; it was elegant. It was a dance; it was a war. It was finite and eternal. It was life.

Not all girls are made of sugar and spice and all things nice. These are girls made of dark lace and witchcraft and a little bit of vice. These are daughters made claw first and story-mad, tiger roar and wolf-bad. These are women made of terrible tempests and savage storms and the untamed unwanted. These are damsels made of flawless fearlessness made of more bravery than knights have ever seen. These are princesses made of valour and poison alike and they are here to hold court as your queens.

She's also ruthless - it's love me or off with your head. She's the Red Queen

But let me be a lover in the Savage Garden with you, and the light that went out of life would come back in a great burst of glory. Out of mortal flesh I would pass into eternity. I would be one of you.” - Daniel

Her cheeks were flushed. She caught hold of the Savage's arm and pressed it, limp, against her side. He looked down at her for a moment, pale, pained, desiring, and ashamed of his desire. He was not worthy, not... Their eyes for a moment met. What treasures hers promised! A queen's ransom of temperament. Hastily he looked away, disengaged his imprisoned arm. He was obscurely terrified lest she should cease to be something he could feel himself unworthy of.

I saw Oberon charge into the fray on a huge black warhorse, glamour swirling around him, and sweep a hand toward the thickest of the fighting. Vines and roots erupted from the ground, coiling around the Iron fey, strangling them or pulling them beneath the earth. Atop a rise, Mab raised her arms, and a savage whirlwind swept across the field, freezing fey solid or impaling them with ice shards. The armies of Summer and Winter howled with renewed vigor and threw themselves at the enemy.

You looked like a fucking queen,” he murmurs, his voice full of pride. “That’s why I claimed you, Savage. I didn’t want anyone else taking what was mine. My queen. You belong to me.

A pledge,” I say again. “To drive fear into those who will confront us.” Violetta hesitates—only for a moment. “To bind us together.” “I pledge myself to the Rose Society,” I begin. “Until the end of my days.” One by one, the others call out the same thing, murmurs at first that turn into firm words. “To use my eyes to see all that happens,” says Sergio. “My tongue to woo others to our side,” says Magiano, with his savage smile. “My ears to hear every secret,” Violetta continues. “My hands,” I finish. “To crush my enemies.” “I will do everything in my power to destroy all who stand in my way.” Right now, what I want is the throne. Enzo’s power. A perfect revenge. And all the Inquisitors, queens, and Daggers in the world won’t be able to stop me.

You shall suffer for ever the influence of my kiss. You shall be beautiful in my fashion. You shall love that which I love and that which loves me: water, clouds, silence and the night; the immense green sea; the formless and multiform streams; the place where you shall not be; the lover whom you shall not know; flowers of monstrous shape; perfumes that cause delirium; cats that shudder, swoon and curl up on pianos and groan like women, with a voice that is hoarse and gentle! And you shall be loved by my lovers, courted by my courtiers. You shall be the queen of all men that have green eyes, whose necks also I have clasped in my nocturnal caresses; of those who love the sea, the sea that is immense, tumultuous and green, the formless and multiform streams, the place where they are not, the woman whom they do not know, sinister flowers that resemble the censers of a strange religion, perfumes that confound the will; and the savage and voluptuous animals which are the emblems of their dementia.

It’s not that I hate people, I just feel better when they’re not around.

In every woman, there is a 100% Savage Queen. Speak to the 100% Savage Queen and the 100% Savage Queen will answer.

Ah, what sights and sounds and pain lie beneath that mist. And we had thought that our hard climb out of that cruel valley led to some cool, green and peaceful, sunlit place---but it's all jungle here, a wild and savage wilderness that's overrun with ruins. But put on your crown, my Queen, and we will build a New City on these ruins.

Think of every fairy-tale villainess you've ever heard of. Think of the wicked witches, the evil queens, the mad enchantresses. Think of the alluring sirens, the hungry ogresses, the savage she-beasts. Think of them and remember that somewhere, sometime, they've all been real.

Kill for you, live for you, die for you,

Save the drama for the queens. Stand alone be a wolf, a rebel, a warrior, a savage, a badass. Be anything but a damn drama queen!

Please be quiet. My inner demons are demanding that I kill you, and I want to hear what they have to say.

Rudeness is something that I just can't tolerate for most of the time&that's why I'm 100% Savage Queen for life!

You will wear the féth fiada until this is done, Amadan.” “Bloody hell,” Adam muttered savagely. “I hate being invisible.” “And Keltar,” Aoibheal said in a voice like sudden thunder, with a glance up at the balustrade. “Henceforth I would advise against tampering with my curses. Perform the Lughnassadh ritual now or face my wrath.” “Aye, Queen Aoibheal,” Dageus and Drustan replied together, stepping our from behind stone columns bracketing the stairs. Adam smiled faintly. He should have known no Highlander would flee, only retreat to a higher vantage – take to the hills, in a manner of speaking – waiting in silent readiness should battle be necessary.

I can set this world on a fire and still can call it a rain.

Kings have to move the pawns at their disposal. It’s just what kings do. As for the pawns, well, they might not have a king’s power, but they can still make themselves useful.

I am Tory Vega, daughter of the Savage King, sister of Darcy Vega and rightful queen of this fucking land. I. do. Not. Beg.

And then the queen wept with all her heart. Not for the cruel and greedy man who had warred and killed and savaged everywhere he could. But for the boy who had somehow turned into that man, the boy whose gentle hand had comforted her childhood hurts, the boy whose frightened voice had cried out to her at the end of his life, as if he wondered why he had gotten lost inside himself, as if he realized that it was too, too late to get out again.

I do have old-fashioned, inflexible ideas about gender roles. But trust me when I say that they’re all to your benefit. Now, will you let me open the door to the bloody bookshop for you, or will your wee feminist ego insist we arm wrestle over it?

She looks savage and fierce, almost unstoppable. She’s half Malice’s size, but in this moment, she doesn’t look like it. She looks like a queen.

A breeze, briefly gentle but growing more savage, jostled the potted plants and curios that cluttered the room.

I’ve never met a woman I wanted to strangle, protect, scream at, cherish, fight with, and fuck, all at the same time.

You’re insane!” “We’ve already established that you’re the crazy one. I’m the monster, remember?

My smile makes her gnash her teeth. “Ready?” “Go to hell.” “Can’t. The devil has a restraining order against me.

Swinburne, by the way, when a very young man, had gone to Walter Savage Landor, then a very old man, and been given the poet’s blessing he asked for; and Landor when a child had been patted on the head by Dr Samuel Johnson; and Johnson when a child had been taken to London to be touched by Queen Anne for scrofula, the King’s evil; and Queen Anne when a child...

Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse," said the Hatter, "when the Queen bawled out 'He's murdering the time! Off with his head!'" "How dreadfully savage!" exclaimed Alice. "and ever since that," the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, "he wo'n't do a thing I ask! It's always six o'clock now.

Science has robbed the sun and moon of magic, leaving a spotted ball of gasses and a dead crater-pocked world in place of gold god and silver queen: a poor trade. Worse, men and women no longer live by intuition, but by ideas. The chittering dictums of the head and the will block out the spontaneous voices of the blood and the impulse. . . . Deprived of the rhythm of savage song, the meaning of the animal yell, we exist for the mechanical screak of steel on steel . . . . We must get back “in touch.

I wonder if my sister will mind when I start calling her fiancé Daddy?

God, you’re hopeless.” “Please be quiet. My inner demons are demanding that I kill you, and I want to hear what they have to say.

He kills people for a living, but nobody’s perfect.

I fret, my queen, though she’s still quite small, Another is fairest of them all. She’s hiding between your hanging gowns, Her destiny is your end, she’ll take your crown.

No serpent's tooth, they say, has the sharpness of an ungrateful child, but no serpent's tooth has the sharpness of many an unappreciated mother.

Help us, God our Savior for the glory of your name; deliver us and forgive our sins for your name's sake. Psalm 79:9(my fav bible verse)

You’re my fucking queen. Have I ever told you that?

Lysandra’s smile was a thing of savage, dark beauty.

You didn’t create a monster, Alexander. You created a queen.

It was like thinking you were the princess in the fairy tale only to wake up and find you were the evil queen the whole time. The Villain.

Of all the people I’ve met who know what I do, you’re the only one who’s ever treated me like I’m human.

No,” he says flatly. “Please?” He growls, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “There’s no need to get testy.” “Testy?” “I’m just saying. You don’t have to get all mad about it.

If zombies ever take over, you’ll be safe.” “What do you mean?” “They only eat brains.

I never needed a white knight to save me. I need the dragon.

a hot, scary, wealthy stranger just tried to save me from being my future brother-in-law’s prostitute.

I hold grudges like new mothers hold their infants.

apparently, imminent death brings out my inner ninja who wants to bitch slap everyone in sight.

I’ll still haunt you forever if you kill me.” “People don’t come back from the grave.” “You have no idea how stubborn I am.

I love you, sis. Kill for you, live for you, die for you,

As always, she looks incredible. Perfect hair, perfect face, perfect body. My gorgeous older sister, fearless lion, effortless flirt, consumer of men’s souls.

normies shouldn’t judge creatives. They just have no idea how we’re wired.

She licks her lips, then says defiantly, “Fine. Kiss me. But I won’t like it.” Challenge accepted.

It's like she's the sun, and I have to orbit around her.

in the snow on this or that side of the tunnel

Really? You look younger than that by years.” “It’s all the preservatives in the candy.

Are those your bodyguards?” “I don’t have bodyguards.” “Why not?” He slants me a look. “Oh. Right. You’re the guy other people need bodyguards for.

Jannie can be the new mother,” Sally said largely, “and Mommy and I will just be the babies and Laurie is the queen and Daddy is a herd of rabbits.

But let me be a lover in the Savage Garden with you, and the light that went out of life would come back in a great burst of glory. Out of mortal flesh I would pass into eternity. I would be one of you.

I reach up and stroke his beard, smiling. “You’re a psychopath.” “Don’t try to flirt your way out of this.” That makes me smile wider. “Only you would think a woman calling you a psychopath is flirting.

They shouted, “Eustace! Eustace! Coo-ee!” till they were hoarse and Caspian blew his horn. “He’s nowhere near or he’d have heard that,” said Lucy with a white face. “Confound the fellow,” said Edmund. “What on earth did he want to slink away like this for?” “But we must do something,” said Lucy. “He may have got lost, or fallen into a hole, or been captured by savages.” “Or killed by wild beasts,” said Drinian. “And a good riddance if he has, I say,” muttered Rhince. “Master Rhince,” said Reepicheep, “you never spoke a word that became you less. The creature is no friend of mine but he is of the Queen’s blood, and while he is one of our fellowship it concerns our honor to find him and to avenge him if he is dead.” “Of course we’ve got to find him (if we can),” said Caspian wearily. “That’s the nuisance of it. It means a search party and endless trouble. Bother Eustace.

I also want to thank you for the rose you left me. That was really nice. I’ve never had a man bring me flowers before. I know it was only the one, and also you thought I was a captive prostitute at the time, but still. It was thoughtful. So thank you.

Grr. She’s being nice. I have no defense against my sister when she’s nice. It’s like if Dracula took a moment before he ripped open your throat with his fangs and sucked out all your blood to say a few polite words about your lovely taste in interior design.

Were you able to rest while I was gone?” “Some.” He feeds me another spoonful of soup. “How’s your pain level?” “Splendiferous.” “Try again without the sarcasm.” “On a scale of one to ten, it’s a forty-seven.” “Without exaggeration, too. If you can manage it.

I see the mad glint in her eye and know she’s planning something. Like overthrowing all the governments of the world and becoming Supreme Ruler of Earth. I can already see her throne, a massive structure made of all the spirits of men’s souls that she’s crushed.

They very soon came upon a Gryphon, lying fast asleep in the sun. (IF you don't know what a Gryphon is, look at the picture.) 'Up, lazy thing!' said the Queen, 'and take this young lady to see the Mock Turtle, and to hear his history. I must go back and see after some executions I have ordered'; and she walked off, leaving Alice alone with the Gryphon. Alice did not quite like the look of the creature, but on the whole she thought it would be quite as safe to stay with it as to go after that savage Queen: so she waited.

I take back what I said about you being a gentleman.” “I’ll burst into tears over that right after you give me your fucking mouth.” She inhales, closing her eyes and swallowing. When she opens her eyes again, I know it’s war. I’ve seen hardened killers look less psychotic.

I don’t beg you,” I hissed, my bloodied fingers painting a final rune onto the clay despite the way my hand shook, and the ether ripped pieces of me away chunk by chunk. “I am Tory Vega, daughter of the Savage King, sister of Darcy Vega and rightful queen of this fucking land. I. do. Not. Beg.

Eena!” Recognizing Ian’s voice, Eena turned to find him approaching her from behind. He was entirely clad in body armor and gauntlets, cradling an open-faced helmet in one arm. Painted on his chest plate was a flaming, gold sword. From his side hung a leather sheath, a golden hilt peeking from the top. “I’m glad you’re back. You are going to stay and watch us play, aren’t you?” He looked hopeful she’d say yes. Eena smiled brightly. “I didn’t know you were talented enough to be on a dueling team. Nice sword,” she teased. Ian blushed a degree. “Thanks. They call us the Savage Warriors!” He rasped their team name in a semi-ferocious voice. “Jerin’s team captain.” She laughed at the showy designation. “And who’s your challenger today?” “The Dragon Slayers - Derian’s team.” Eena’s face fell. “Derian is playing?” She groaned internally, knowing she should’ve guessed as much. This was starting to look like another setup.

For the first time, I realize that it’s not just the king who appears inhuman. I do too. The ferocity of the scar that runs down my cheek, the tightness of my jaw, the look in my eye— I’m no natural thing. Murder and violence have made me this way. Loss and war have made me this way. I look like a savage. A savage queen. One who doesn’t need a crown or even a weapon to appear powerful. I see it now— this world’s faith in me. It’s not just that I am an anachronism; the harshness of my face speaks to these people who have only ever known war. No wonder the West wants me gone. A century has gone by, and yet even after all that time I am still something to fear.

I was around her age when I began. The beautiful wooden board on a stand in my father’s study. The gleaming ivory pieces. The stern king. The haughty queen. The noble knight. The pious bishop. And the game itself, the way each piece contributed its individual power to the whole. It was simple. It was complex. It was savage; it was elegant. It was a dance; it was a war. It was finite and eternal. It was life.

You don’t seem traumatized.” I smile into his chest. “Maybe an orgasm is the cure for PTSD.” “Or maybe the little boss bitch Khaleesi’s got nothing on my waif.” “Waif?” “That’s what I call you in my head sometimes. The demon waif.” After a beat, he says, “Is that bad?” “Let me overthink it for a minute.” “Because I don’t want you to be offended.” “Oh, sure. Who would be offended by being described as a skinny stray from hell?

I mean it. You’re only here because I’m punishing Declan.” “Okay.” His voice rises. “You’re nothing but a means to an end. You’re part of my plan. This”—he waves a hand between us—“isn’t anything. It’s nothing. You mean zero to me.” I look down at my hands, then back up at him. I say quietly, “Okay.” His temper snaps. He shouts, “Why do you keep agreeing with me?” “Because we both know you’re full of shit, so arguing would be pointless.

The people cast themselves down by the fuming boards while servants cut the roast, mixed jars of wine and water, and all the gods flew past like the night-breaths of spring. The chattering female flocks sat down by farther tables, their fresh prismatic garments gleaming in the moon as though a crowd of haughty peacocks played in moonlight. The queen’s throne softly spread with white furs of fox gaped desolate and bare, for Penelope felt ashamed to come before her guests after so much murder. Though all the guests were ravenous, they still refrained, turning their eyes upon their silent watchful lord till he should spill wine in libation for the Immortals. The king then filled a brimming cup, stood up and raised it high till in the moon the embossed adornments gleamed: Athena, dwarfed and slender, wrought in purest gold, pursued around the cup with double-pointed spear dark lowering herds of angry gods and hairy demons; she smiled and the sad tenderness of her lean face, and her embittered fearless glance, seemed almost human. Star-eyed Odysseus raised Athena’s goblet high and greeted all, but spoke in a beclouded mood: “In all my wandering voyages and torturous strife, the earth, the seas, the winds fought me with frenzied rage; I was in danger often, both through joy and grief, of losing priceless goodness, man’s most worthy face. I raised my arms to the high heavens and cried for help, but on my head gods hurled their lightning bolts, and laughed. I then clasped Mother Earth, but she changed many shapes, and whether as earthquake, beast, or woman, rushed to eat me; then like a child I gave my hopes to the sea in trust, piled on my ship my stubbornness, my cares, my virtues, the poor remaining plunder of god-fighting man, and then set sail; but suddenly a wild storm burst, and when I raised my eyes, the sea was strewn with wreckage. As I swam on, alone between sea and sky, with but my crooked heart for dog and company, I heard my mind, upon the crumpling battlements about my head, yelling with flailing crimson spear. Earth, sea, and sky rushed backward; I remained alone with a horned bow slung down my shoulder, shorn of gods and hopes, a free man standing in the wilderness. Old comrades, O young men, my island’s newest sprouts, I drink not to the gods but to man’s dauntless mind.” All shuddered, for the daring toast seemed sacrilege, and suddenly the hungry people shrank in spirit; They did not fully understand the impious words but saw flames lick like red curls about his savage head. The smell of roast was overpowering, choice meats steamed, and his bold speech was soon forgotten in hunger’s pangs; all fell to eating ravenously till their brains reeled. Under his lowering eyebrows Odysseus watched them sharply: "This is my people, a mess of bellies and stinking breath! These are my own minds, hands, and thighs, my loins and necks!" He muttered in his thorny beard, held back his hunger far from the feast and licked none of the steaming food.

I holler after him, “You never would have kissed me so much if you really planned to kill me!” “Tell that to my late ex-wife.” That leaves me breathless, and not just because my stomach hurts from the effort of shouting. I lie there with my heart beating like mad, thinking of all the ways he might have murdered his poor ex, until Mal sticks his head back through the door. “I don’t have an ex-wife. I’ve never been married. I only said that to scare you.” “It worked.” “I told you I was a bad person.

My fav 100% Savage Guy Friends are always there to protect me&my fav 100% Savage Best Friends Charlotte&Anna in many difficult situations to willing to fight for themselves in any types of arguments&fights&! Love my fav guy friends so much for their protection as my fav 100% Savage Guy Friends! Don't mess with them&me! They're always there for me&them in my fav 100% Savage Guy Friends! Ayy! My fav 100% Savage Guy Friends are so strong&so muscular to protect me&my fav 100% Savage Best Friends too! Hmm!

You’re a fool, Marius, or you think I am. Don’t you think I know what this world is capable of? What absurd mixture of the savage and the technologically astute makes up the mind of modern man?” “My Queen, I don’t think you know it!” Marius said. “Truly, I don’t. I don’t think you can hold in your mind the full conception of what the world is. None of us can; it is too varied, too immense; we seek to embrace it with our reason; but we can’t do it. You know a world; but it is not the world; it is the world you have selected from a dozen other worlds for reasons within yourself.

In that moment, I understand the way that the noblest yearning for duty and sacrifice can be mixed up with all that is savage and shameful, like in the Bible, where a just and merciful God tells you to kill everyone, kill the children, kill the livestock, kill John Polling, leave nothing alive to sully this pure and just world. Except when it's all done you find out that wasn't really God after all, just some politician, or maybe it was God, but he taps you on the shoulder and says, 'No, dude, that isn't what I meant,' and leaves you sitting in a Dairy Queen in Bothell with blood on your hands and no further orders...

During a famine, the father and stepmother of Hansel and Gretel abandon them in a forest so that they will starve to death. The children stumble upon an edible house inhabited by a witch, who imprisons Hansel and fattens him up in preparation for eating him. Fortunately Gretel shoves the witch into a fiery oven, and “the godless witch burned to death in a horrible way.” 41 • Cinderella’s stepsisters, when trying to squeeze into her slippers, take their mother’s advice and cut off a toe or heel to make them fit. Doves notice the blood, and after Cinderella marries the prince, they peck out the stepsisters’ eyes, punishing them “for their wickedness and malice with blindness for the rest of their lives.” Snow White arouses the jealousy of her stepmother, the queen, so the queen orders a hunter to take her into the forest, kill her, and bring back her lungs and liver for the queen to eat. When the queen realizes that Snow White has escaped, she makes three more attempts on her life, two by poison, one by asphyxiation. After the prince has revived her, the queen crashes their wedding, but “iron slippers had already been heated up for her over a fire of coals.... She had to put on the red-hot iron shoes and dance in them until she dropped to the ground dead.

She was almost to the door when Aelin said, “How much longer—until you’re free of your debts?” “I still have a great deal to pay off, so—a while.” Lysandra paced a few steps, and then caught herself. “Clarisse keeps adding money as Evangeline grows, claiming that someone so beautiful would have made her double, triple what she originally told me.” “That’s despicable.” “What can I do?” Lysandra held up her wrist, where the tattoo had been inked. “She’ll hunt me until the day I die, and I can’t run with Evangeline.” “I could dig Clarisse a grave no one would ever discover,” Aelin said. And meant it. Lysandra knew she meant it, too. “Not yet—not now.” “You say the word, and it’s done.” Lysandra’s smile was a thing of savage, dark beauty.

Zach leans over and whispers on my lips, “Cleopatra. That’s your name, right?” I swallow against the onslaught of emotions. I feel the savage flapping of the butterflies in my stomach and I press my belly against him to make him feel it too. Make him feel all these crazy, intense emotions inside of me. “But hardly anyone calls me that.” A lopsided smile as he traces my cheek with a thumb. “Do you know Cleopatra was an Egyptian queen?” I nod. “Yeah. My mom used to tell me that she was the most beautiful woman of her time.” “People are crazy, aren’t they?” I clutch his dark t-shirt at his waist. “Why?” “They don’t know what they’re talking about. One look at you and they would’ve snatched away her crown and laid it down at your feet.” The shudder that goes through me is the biggest one yet. He called me beautiful. Beautiful.

I'm in sore straits, Jeeves.' 'I am sorry to hear that, sir.' 'You'll be sorrier when I explain further. Have you ever seen a garrison besieged by howling savages, with their ammunition down to the last box of cartridges, the water supply giving our and the United States Marines nowhere in sight?' 'Not to my recollection, sir.' 'Well, my position is roughly that of such a garrison, except that compared with me they're sitting pretty. Compared with me they haven't a thing to worry about.' 'You fill me with alarm, sir.' 'I bet I do, and I haven't even started yet. I will begin by saying that Miss Cook, to whom I'm engaged, is a lady for whom I have the utmost esteem and respect, but on certain matters we do not... what's the expression?' 'See eye to eye, sir?' 'That's right. And unfortunately those matters are the what-d'you-call-it of my whole policy. What is it that policies have?' 'I think the word for which you are groping, sir, may possibly be cornerstone.' 'Thank you, Jeeves. She disapproves of a variety of things which are the cornerstone of my policy. Marriage with her must inevitably mean that I shall have to cast them from my life, for she has a will of iron and will have no difficulty in making her husband jump through hoops and snap sugar off his nose. You get what I mean?' 'I do, sir. A very colourful image.' 'Cocktails, for instance, will be barred. She says they are bad for the liver. Have you noticed, by the way, how frightfully lax everything's getting now? In Queen Victoria's day a girl would never have dreamed of mentioning livers in mixed company.' 'Very true, sir. Tempora mutanter, nos et mutamur in illis.' 'That, however, is not the worst.' 'You horrify me, sir.' 'At a pinch I could do without cocktails. It would be agony, but we Woosters can rough it. But she says I must give up smoking.' 'This was indeed the most unkindest cut of all, sir.' 'Give up smoking, Jeeves!' 'Yes, sir. You will notice that I am shuddering.

With an overpowering shock, it came home to Austin that there stood a benighted young savage for whom the Great War had never been. She lived in an Edwardian world where twenty-five francs went to the pound and the map of Europe was what it had been in Queen Victoria’s days. Doubtless Edward had wasted much valuable time in drawing obsolete frontiers in the sand—a highly appropriate medium. He opened his mouth and gaped, taking in the implications slowly. Nineteen hundred and eight—nineteen hundred and eight—the Wrights made their first flight in 1908. She wouldn’t know what an aeroplane was. She wouldn’t know about wireless. The war—wireless—aeroplanes—a hundred and twenty-five francs to the pound—the blessings of Bolshevism—cross-word puzzles—and jazz. He gaped, and recalled her phrase—no, not hers—Edward’s phrase, parroted: “There wouldn’t be any place for me in a modern civilization.

At least, Queen Lorelei had once counseled her daughter to that effect, years ago when she could still speak without uttering gibberish.

His bulk is surpassed only by his height, which is surpassed only by the gut punch of that V thing leading from his washboard abs downward, like a pair of muscle arrows pointing to the goodies in his crotch.

A savage grin pulled at my lips as I felt like I was running with a pack of wolves, the five of us joined by spirit and promises and love.

Blake picked the paperback up from her desk entitled Warrior Fae, flipped it open to the last page and tore it out before scrunching it up and tossing it in the trash. Fucking savage. Not that I was complaining. She deserved to never find out the end of her book. If I had the time, I’d find a way to track down every copy in the world so that she could suffer forevermore without knowing how it ended. I wasn’t sure if there was any worse fate than that to bestow on someone.

So Leda's daughters, two lethal brides, will twice and thrice wed. One will launch Greece in a thousand ships, her beauty the ruin of her land, and the men sent to rescue her will come back ashes and bones. The other, the queen hell-bent on revenge, will rise in the house of Mycenae, loyal to those who revere her, savage to those who oppose her.

He growls, “Say yes, and I swear every day will be better than the last, you bloody stubborn woman. You have my heart. My soul. My life. I want you to have my name as well, and wear my ring so everyone who sees you knows you belong to me. I’m so proud to be your man, I want the whole goddamn world to know you’re mine.

I’m just an introvert who loves books, candy, and arguing with strangers on the internet.

I’d read a book about a mountain man once though. He was a mafia prince who’d gone into hiding because of the things he’d found out about himself and he’d sure made being a mountain man sound hot. He’d found a girl up there on that mountain and had torn down heaven and earth to get revenge against the people who had hurt her. The sex had been pretty damn hot too. So maybe Saint could pull off the mountain man thing with the right bit of encouragement. If Nicoli could do it in Beautiful Savage, then why not my OCD criminal mastermind too?

There’s a little growl in his voice when he speaks again, and I shiver at the sound and the way it vibrates through me. “You

There’s a little growl in his voice when he speaks again, and I shiver at the sound and the way it vibrates through me. “You like it,” he says. “Being ours. You fight it because that’s what you do, who you are. You’re a fighter. But you still like it. It gets you right here.

You certainly do seem to have a beast hidden inside the beauty.

Fear not, Snow, for the evil queen is about to enter a fight she is not prepared for. She cannot win, nor can she lose. The battle will end as soon as it has begun, while we prepare to defeat her in the final fight. The war will be ours. We shall taste triumph in the form of blood, celebrating our victory as the queen’s head watches over us, skewered to a stake.

Yes. I'm 100% Savage Queen!

I don't give a fuck about rude people if anyone crosses my boundaries to mistreat me or anyone! Lol! 100% Savage Queen for life!

Attitude is a little difference thing that makes a big difference.