Ann Aguirre
Ann Aguirre
Ann Aguirre is an American author of speculative fiction. She writes urban fantasy, romantic science fiction, apocalyptic paranormal romance, paranormal romantic suspense, and post-apocalyptic dystopian young-adult fiction...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
CountryUnited States of America
home animal hands
... Where did you go?” “Down below.” “Ugh,” she said. “I’ve heard they’re little better than animals.” Funny. I thought the same thing about most Topsiders I encountered. Tegan touched my hand in silent sympathy, and I set my jaw. ... I stepped forward and pasted on a false smile. We were in her home, after all. The least I could do was be polite. “I’m Deuce, animal from the underground.
heart littles bones
My heart shifted a little in my chest; it seemed to swell and beat against my bones until I couldn't hear.
sky two curves
A curve of silver hung amid the brighter specks; it looked to me like a curved dagger, pretty but deadly, as if it might slice the sky in two.
song lightning blades
He went in, lean and deadly, and ended the creature with a lightning-fast spike of his blade. It shrieked, likely altering the rest. The death call carried like a mournful song.
independent too-much demonstrating
Here in the enclave, one didn't prosper by demonstrating too much independent thought.
orange glowing mad
He'd said the sun could burn me. It certainly looked angry enough, all orange and glowing mad.
fighting compassion knives
There were different kinds of strength. I knew that now. It didn't always come from a knife or a willingness to fight. Sometimes it came from endurance, where the well ran deep and quiet. Sometimes it came from compassion and forgiveness.
baby stupid fall
Are you afraid of falling, baby? No, I’m afraid of landing. [He’s laughing, and I’m smiling.] Stupid idiot smile, don’t you know what comes next?
missing-someone determination loss
You could miss someone, but it did no good to fixate on loss. I wished I had the ready words of a Breeder or the ability to comfort with a soft touch. I didn't. Instead I had daggers and determination. That would have to do.
survival cowardice feels
Survival feels like cowardice.
light waiting promise
I imagine the ones we’ve lost as ghosts who prowl about the edges of the light, waiting for us to join them. Sometimes that’s terrifying, and sometimes it’s reassuring, a promise of homecoming.
bears done scar
I shake my head, but I can’t change this. I can only bear the scars, as I have always done, as I ever do.
sometimes enough feels
I know just how he feels that it’s come to this. Sometimes, love isn’t enough, even when it’s all you have.
chaos overcoat carrie
She carries chaos like an overcoat.