She crawled on top of him, naked and warm and soft, smelling like a miracle that had saved him from a lifetime of aloneness.
Patricia BriggsSee you tomorrow,” he said, instead. “All right.” Then, impulsively, I asked, “Do you have a place to sleep tonight?” “Sure,” he said with a smile, and started off as if he had somewhere to be. I could have bitten off my tongue because I pushed him into a lie. Once he started lying to me, it would be harder to get him to trust me with the truth. I don’t know why it works that way, but it does—at least in my experience.
Patricia BriggsIf she kept wondering about how much of her life Bran engineered, she’d end up on a funny farm knitting caps for ducks.
Patricia BriggsWhat do you mean?” Leslie’s voice was cool, as if she questioned witches who were flat on their backs being threatened by werewolves every day.
Patricia BriggsHeart turned to me, his face thoughtful. “Yesterday morning. Yes, that means that Daphne hadn’t been home for two days before that.” He smiled at me. “You were supposed to be the Alpha’s eye candy.” Adam laughed. “What?” I asked him. “You don’t think I’d be good eye candy?” I looked down at my overalls and grease-stained hands. I’d torn another nail to the quick. “Honey is eye candy,” said Ben apologetically. “You’re . . . just you.” “Mine,” said Adam, edging between Heart and me. “Mine is what she is.
Patricia Briggs