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
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)
Cause I’m gonna put my foot so far up their butts they’re going to burp shoe leather. (Nick)
Relax, Phyra. I’d be more concerned if he were in here with my son than with my daughter. The biggest threat he poses is he might want to borrow her shoes. (Stryker)
Look, this isn’t The Mummy. It’s not like a teenaged girl’s diary could resurrect the dead or anything. It’s just the story of her innocuous life. What on earth could an ancient girl have known that would be worth killing someone over? (Tory) You’re asking me that question? People kill each other over a pair of shoes or for wearing the same jacket. (Acheron)
Why didn’t you come tell me he was heading out alone? (Kat) ’Cause he does it all the time. Didn’t think anything about it. But now that you’re here I’ll make sure and keep you updated on everything he does. That way you can cut his meat up for dinner and help him tie his shoes and use the potty, too. (Damien)
I find you irritating. (Kat) I haven’t even begun to irritate you yet. Imagine what I could do if I applied myself? (Solin) I can imagine. I can also imagine ripping your throat out and tying my shoes with your larynx. (Kat)
He didn't want the respect of people who weren’t worth wiping his nose on—people who weren't worth the spatout gum attached to the bottom of his worn-out shoes. The only respect he wanted was from himself and the people who really mattered in his life. The people who really loved and cared about him.
In the end, life makes victims of us all.
Funny how internal scars never healed. They were the souvenirs of the past.
Everyone wants someone they can hold and love. Someone who will be there to help pick up the pieces when everything falls apart. (Acheron)
You might wanna rethink that, boy. 'Cause if I'm going to get sued for offensively touching you, I'm going to make it worth my while.
I am a socially akward man-dork"-Nick
Ash sarcastically rang an invisible bell with his hand. "Ding, ding, ding. Give that boy a tropphy.
Intentions don't matter. It's the end result we're all judged by. Evil in the name of good is still evil. And when you dance with the devil, you seldom get to pick the tune.