Melissa Marr (born July 25, 1972) is an American author of young adult/urban fantasy novels.
I've read Reverend Kirk, in fact. My uncle's library has quite a few books of your people. I have read Mr. Lang's fairy tales as well. (Katherine Rae O'Flaherty) "Books are not the same as reality," Devlin stared at her. "My world is not always kind to mortals.
In the end mortals always expired before faeries. They were such finite creatures. Their first heartbeat and breath were but a blink from death. To add the weight of nourishing his insatiable court in a time of peace was to hasten that unconscionably.
It was the only way he knew to protect the court, the faery, and the only mortal who'd ever mattered to him.
Choose to be happy. It is what we have all done.
Seth gave her that: a private space to believe in the illusion of normalcy.
Love makes you foolish. It makes you throw every bit of logic away, do stupid things, dangerous things.
Stab one or two healers, and everyone overreacts.
And sometimes you meet someone who doesn't see you any differently if you tell them. That is everything.
Like chaos in a glass cage.
That's what the court needs-a happy king, a king who can't stop dreaming of being lost in someone who wants to be just as lost. Tell me you'll let me get lost in you.
Happiness is a choice.
Pride goeth before the fall. . . . but you've already fallen, haven't you?
She was afraid, but she couldn't just sit around waiting for someone to save her. She had to try to save herself, try to figure it out.
Belief is a powerful thing. If you believe you can.
But I want to be near you always," he reminded her. "But you'll lose everyone else, and. . . " "I want forever with you. " Seth lifted her chin so he was able to look directly into her eyes. "The rest will fall into place if I can be with you.
You're an idiot," she whispered tearfully. Finally, he opened his eyes and stared up at her; by then, she had moved on to stroking his hair and crying. She sat beside him on the edge of the bed, trying very hard not to bump him or let her cold tears fall on his bare chest and arms. For a moment he blinked at her. Then he asked, "Are you dead too?
Some mortals--like you--are already half in love with death. It is who you are, and I'll not make it harder on you by telling you things you don't need to know. Ask me again when you die. Then I'll tell you everything, anything, nothing.
Not 'Don' in that I-m-sorry-and-now-you'll-forgive-me-like-you-always-do-way. Not this time, Keenan. " (Donya)
Loving someone meant letting them be who they were, not caging them
And he was gone before she could think clearly enough to explain that her yes was a Yes, I'll marry you.