Charlaine Harris

Charlaine Harris
Charlaine Harris Schulzis an American New York Times bestselling author who has been writing mysteries for thirty years. She was born and raised in the Mississippi River Delta area of the United States. She now lives in southern Arkansas with her husband and three children. Though her early work consisted largely of poems about ghosts and, later, teenage angst, she began writing plays when she attended Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee. She began to write books a few years later...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth25 November 1951
CityTunica, MS
CountryUnited States of America
Not one man in a million would have allowed me the time without speaking. I opened my mind, let my gaurd down completely, relaxed. His silence washed over me. I stood, closed my eyes, breathed out the relief that was too profound for words.
He pulled my coat off my shoulders, looked at it with distaste, hung it on the back of one of the chairs pushed in under the kitchen table. "You are beautiful". No one had ever looked me in the eyes and said that. Eric to Sookie, Page 208.
Oh, God, puppy dog eyes. From a six-foot-five ancient Viking vampire.
I stroked Eric's hair, tucking some behind his ear. His eyes on mine were intent, and I knew he was waiting for me to speak. "I wish," I said, "I could save orgasms in a jar for when i need them, because I think I had a few extra." Eric's eyes widened, and all of a sudden he roared with laughter. (Dead to the World)
Glass shattered, vampires roared, humans screamed. The noise battered at me, just as the tidal wave of scores of brains at high gear washed over me. When it began to taper off, I looked up into Eric's eyes. Incredibly, he was excited. He smiled at me. "I knew I'd get on top of you somehow," he said. Are you trying to make me mad so I'll forget how scared I am?" No, I'm just opportunistic." I wiggled, trying to get out from under him, and he said, "Oh, do that again. It felt great.
His eyes were still like caves with ghosts dwelling in their depths.
Eric was incensed, to use a good entry from my word of the day Calender. In fact his eyes were almost throwing sparks he was so angry. "This woman has been mine, and she will be mine" he said in tones so definite I thought about checking my rear end for a brand.
Snow, here?" Eric was as delighted as a child. "I love snow!" Why was I not surprised? "Maybe we will get snowed in together," he said suggestively, waggling his blond eyebrows.
My eyes flew open, and I pushed back against rock-hard shoulders. I let out a little squeak of horror. "It's me," said a familiar voice. ..."Eric, what are you doing here?" "Snuggling.
We might be on the same page, but I wasn't happy about reading it.
I added to my mental list of the odd things I'd done that day. I'd entertained the police, sunbathed, visited at a mall with some fairies, weeded and killed someone. Now it was powdered-corpse removal time. And the day wasn't over yet.
My mother finally took me to a child psychologist, who knew exactly what I was, but she just couldn’t accept it and kept trying to tell my folks I was reading their body language and was very observant, so I had good reason to imagine I heard people’s thoughts. Of course, she couldn’t admit I was literally hearing people’s thoughts because that just didn’t fit into her world.
What had set the fae world off? I`d never seen one. Now you couldn`t throw a trowel without hitting a fairy.
Oh. No wonder I'd been sick. I hadn't eaten anything since then. I'm a girl who likes her meals, so it hadn't been a weight-loss tactic. I'd just been too busy bumping from crisis to crisis. Go on the Sookie Stackhouse Narrow Avoidance of Death Diet! Run for your life, and miss meals, too! Exercise plus starvation.