Sherrilyn Kenyon

Sherrilyn Kenyon
Sherrilyn Kenyonis a bestselling US writer. Under her own name she writes urban fantasy, and is best known for her Dark Hunter series. Under the pseudonym Kinley MacGregor she wrote historicals also with paranormal elements. Kenyon's novels have an "international following" with over 30 million copies in print in over 100 countries. Under both names, her books have appeared at the top of the New York Times, Publishers Weekly, and USA Today lists, and they are frequent bestsellers in Germany,...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
CountryUnited States of America
See, Sway, that’s what you get for flunking your pilot’s test six times…which I’m pretty sure is a record of some sort. If not for the actual flunking, definitely for the persistence in pursuing that which you obviously have no talent for. Personally, I wouldn’t let you fly a remote-control kid’s plane. (Vik) Shut up before I find a can opener. (Sway)
Aren’t you afraid they’ll arrest you? (Shahara) I wasn’t a convict, Dagan. I was an illegally purchased slave. My owner has no legal claim on me. And I’m no longer a kid learning my powers. I’m a full-grown man with an ax I want to bury in the forehead of anyone dumb enough to come at me. I defy the bastards to try something now. (Nero)
Trust me, Joe. You’re not a cowboy. The only cows you ever saw as a kid came under a plastic wrap in the grocery store or in a paper wrapped from McDonald’s. (Tee)
To infinity then. (Bubba) What’s that mean? (Nick) It’s something my dad used to say when I was a kid. To infinity, meaning you’d see something through to the end. (Bubba) Infinity is never-ending. (Nick) That’s right, which means you keep going and going no matter what happens or what obstacles you meet. Over, under, around or through. There’s always a way. And if you have to chase something to infinity, strap on your big-boy pants, hiking boots, and go. (Bubba)
The Simi gots some barbecue sauce in her bag. It kind of looks like blood if you squint at it the right way. And it don’t coagulate between your teeth like blood or give you them funky burps, not to mention it tastes a lot better too. Especially over that type A stuff. Bleh! I’d rather eat my shoes. But that O-flavored blood…yum! (She straightened and held one finger up in a gesture that strangely reminded him of Smokey the Bear.) And just remember, kids, three out of four demons all prefer barbecue sauce over hemoglobin. (Simi)
I still wanna know who to sue to get my store fixed. (Bubba) I’m a turnip. Sue the rich kid who started it. (Nick)
I don’t know who has it, but apparently other people have been playing it which is why we have zombies cropping up all over the place. (Madaug) Yeah, two and three at a time, ‘cause God forbid kids should do what we did back in the old days and play in a room by ourselves. What kind of geeks are they raising nowadays? Geeks with friends who play video games together. Whoever heard of such? It’s the end of days, I’m telling you all. (Bubba)
You’re really not right, are you? Yeah, I know. It was all the paint chips I ate as a kid. They were good, but chromosomally damaging. (Nick)
But this…this kid wasn’t dead yet. Makes no sense to me. (Bubba) Maybe someone spiked his Wheaties? (Nick)
Don’t let the past ruin your future. (Acheron) Meaning what, oh great Yoda? (Kyrian) You take care of the kid. I’ll take care of your patrol tonight. I could use the target practice. (Acheron)
And you plan to do this alone? You think a lot of yourself, don’t you animal? (Stone) Oh, punk, please. Believe me, when dealing with wusses like you who have to gang up on a kid to feel powerful, I don’t need any help. (Fang)
Menoeceus is a great name. (Astrid) For an old man or a feminine hygiene product. Not for my son. And next time I get to name the kid and it won’t be something that sounds like meningitis. (Zarek) You keep that up and next time you’ll be the one birthing it, and don’t mess with me, bucko, I have connections in that department. A pregnant man is not an impossibility in my neighborhood. (Astrid)
He says he’d rather be dead than leave me. According to him, we’re family. I guess that makes me the psycho uncle no one wants to talk to. And he’s the kid with only imaginary friends for company. ‘Normal’ Rockwell, here we come. (Jared)
Even if he doesn’t eat, he knows the cookies. I’ll bet his mother stuffed him full as a kid. (Tory) Not really. My mom wasn’t the Betty Crocker kind. (Acheron) (Not unless it involved napalm or plagues.)