Lilith Saintcrow
Lilith Saintcrow
Lilith Saintcrow is an American author of urban fantasy, historical fantasy, paranormal romance and steampunk novels. Saintcrow was born in New Mexico. She currently resides in Vancouver, WA...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
CountryUnited States of America
people answers want
His shoulder bumped mine again. "Can I ask you something?" I didn't answer. He was going to ask me anyway. People don't say that if they don't want to pry something out of you.
bird listening littles
Are you listening, little bird?
smell apples pie
The smell of apple pies didn't quite fill the house, but it was there, a thread under everything else. It was kind of hard to take Christophe seriously when he smelled like baked goods. I wondered if other djampjir smelled like Hostess Twinkies and sniggered to myself.
sports looks bigs
I don't even have moderately big breasticles. They just look like - well, nevermind what they look like. At least they stay strapped down when I worm into a sports bra.
eye air flames
His eyes were green chips of flame, and the growl was so thick it blurred the air around him, the sound of a very pissed off skinchanger.
strong talking smell
Would I be as strong as that once I did that thing Christophe was talking about? Blooming? Would I smell like a bakery item? Or was that just him? Did he use pie filling for cologne?
cutting cafeteria spoons
Oh, the testosterone. You could have cut it with a cafeteria spoon.
real kids world
I'd kind of expected that kids who knew about the Real World wouldn't act like jock dipwads. Guess I was wrong.
snow hey warning
Graves: It’s going to snow. Dru Anderson: Thanks for the warning. Graves: Hey, no problem. First one’s free.
dark hunting eggs
Zombies smell worse than anything you can imagine if you haven’t been hunting things on the dark side of the world. It’s a ripe, gassy odour, like rotting eggs and meat gone bad, crawling blind with maggots. It’s road kill and decayed food and body odour all rolled into one package and tied up with puke.
sweet dad real
Hello, Officer? Can you help me? My dad got turned into a zombie. You know, we’ve been travelling around getting rid of things that aren’t real, and this time they hit back. I really need someplace to stay – but can you make sure I have some holy water or something wherever it is? And some silver-jacketed bullets? That’d be sweet. Yeah, that’d be totally cool. Thanks. And while you’re at it, can you tell the guys with the straitjackets that I’m really sane? That would help.
goodbye character years
It's always difficult to say goodbye, especially when one has spent a long time - literally years, in the case of a series - inside a character or two, suffering and celebrating with them.
definitions doe fit
Oh God, Oh God we’re all gonna die doesn’t really fit the definition of banter, now does it?
twisted holes
There was a hole inside her, and it twisted.