Patricia Briggs (born 1965) is an American writer of fantasy since 1993, and author of the Mercy Thompson urban fantasy series.
You forgot the ‘my precious,’” Anna said dryly. “If you want to act like a freaking nutcase, you have to do it right.
I don't like it when I outweigh my men.
Mercy is not a proper Indian name. ". . . . . . . . . . . "Rash Coyote Who Runs With Wolf. We could shorten it to Dinner Woman.
Evil must always be fought.
Much awkwardness ensued.
Coyote never loses. Because I change the rules of the games my enemies play. What are the rules of your game?
Read good books. Read bad books - and figure out why you don't like them. Then don't do it when you write. If you are a science fiction or fantasy writer, going to conventions and attending panels is very useful.
Mine" he said. Adam's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. She is mine. " It would of been flattering,I thought,except that at least one of them was talking about dinner and I wasn't certain about the other.
I've been a storyteller all my life. When I was in high school, I used to amuse myself by driving through the woods at night and see how long it would be before I scared the pants off my friends - and if I could do it before I scared myself.
So in the sweltering heat of a July night, I sang a Christmas carol to a room full of fae, who had been driven out of their homelands by Christians and their cold-iron swords.
He was obviously dead. But since he was a vampire that wasn't as hopless a thing as it might have been.
A werewolf tossed me against a giant packing crate while I was trying to rescue a frightened young girl who'd been kidnapped by an evil witch and a drug lord.
She open her eyes and met his. The impact was so strong he was amazed that his figures continued playing with out pause.
Let's save tomorrow's troubles for tomorrow.
Not that I'd really been planning on keeping the attack secret; it had just been an option I'd wanted to keep open if I could.
You play games with people's lives. (. . . ) You forget that they are fragile.
Hey, Adam,” I said. I thought you’d want to know that Warren and Darryl made it out of the vampire den alive. ” I sucked in my breath. “You didn’t actually agree to their meeting on Marsilia’s grounds?” He laughed. “No, it just sounded better than saying they made it out of Denny’s alive. It might not be romantic, but it’s open all night and set in the middle of a brightly lit parking lot with no dark places for skulking parties to ambush from.
Stefan: "Indian with a dot, not a feather.
It's only fair to warn you that you sealed your fate tonight. When you knew you were in trouble, you came to me. That makes twice, Mercy, and twice is almost as good as a declaration. You are mine now. . . Ben says you might run. If you do, I will find you and bring you back. Every time you run, Mercy. I won't force you, but. . . I won't leave or let you leave either. If you can fight that cursed fairy drink, you can certainly overcome any advantage being an Alpha gives me if you really want to. No more excuses, Mercy. You are mine, and I am keeping you.
I hope this means you'll quit asking me to kill you. It gives me indigestion.