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
broken way damage
We're broken in complementary ways, thus rendering our damage comprehensible to each other.
wings way limits
Now I know there are ways to belong to someone that don’t take anything away. A relationship shouldn’t impose limits—and if it does, then it’s wrong. A lover should help you exceed your potential, not clip your wings.
looks tomorrow just-love-me
Just . . . love me, and let tomorrow look after itself.
hero sacrifice self
Nobility and self-sacrifice sound wonderful in theory, but now he’s seen how it feels. A dead hero is still dead at the end of the day, and you’re still alone.
heart loss should
My heart should be breaking, too, but there comes a point when you’re so inured to loss that you no longer feel the lash.
Love can make us do dreadful things.
heart body way
There are quiet ways to die where the body just doesn’t notice that the heart is gone.
wall two forgiving
I’m as forgiving as the wall you hit at two hundred kilometers an hour.
heartbreaking matter indifference
No matter how interminable something feels, there is always, always an ending. Sometimes that's good, and sometimes it's bad; sometimes it's a matter of indifference, and sometimes it's heartbreaking, and your life is never the same thereafter.
hero sometimes
Sometimes you find your heroes in the unlikeliest places.
want bears naked
Through the damp fabric of my coverall, bundled in my blanket, I feel naked. Raw. He sees more than I want, more than I can bear. It’s like standing before him ... while he stares at my scars, pitiless and unmoved.
mother hate dirty
I’m not a woman you bring home to Mother, pick out china patterns with, or Mary forefend, breed. I’ve seen a chunk of the universe, true, but there’s still so much more to see. I doubt I’ll ever cure this wanderlust, and I’m content with dedicating my life to failing to sate it... He’s never going to sit at my feet and write me poems, which is good because I hate poetry, except dirty ones that rhyme.
sweet cutting kissing
I have had passionate kisses and fierce ones, kisses so sweet they tasted like pure honey and kisses that cut like knives, but until this moment, I’ve never had one that said both hello and good-bye.
dark wish world
But wishes were empty thoughts, cast down a dark hole. They didn't come true unless you worked for them. I'd learned that about the world, if nothing more.