succubus quotes: Five trolls in a dra-a-a-a-ag,’ the four-inch man sang from my shoulder. ‘Four purple condoms, three French ticklers, two horny vamps and a succubus in the snow. — Kim Harrison
J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 173-175). — J.R. Thorn
“I thought I was the black sheep,” said Seth, sounding almost hurt.
“No. You’re the unfocused artistic one. I’m the responsible one. Ian’s the wild, hedonistic one.”
“What’s hedonistic?” asked Kendall.
Her father considered. “It means you run up a lot of credit card bills you can’t pay, change jobs a lot, and have a lot of … lady friends. — Richelle Mead
“Stay back, foul temptress!”
“Er. Not you. Uh. I … sensed the presence of a succubus. Like, near here. Ooooh. So very near.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes. Yes I can. Because I have magic. And my succubus-tracking abilities. It’s a thing. A real
thing. That I do all the time.”
“Riiiight. Your magical succubus-tracking abilities.”
“Shut up, Gary! — T.J. Klune
“It can’t force her away,” he said. “Nothing can. But it might make her think twice. It’s more of … a repellent.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, like citronella. — Richelle Mead
He paused. “Of course. Everyone does. Part of life.”
“Tell me her name. I’ll kick her ass. I don’t want anyone hurting you.”
He rested his face against my hair, his tone even and gentle when he spoke. “You’re wondrous and powerful and gifted, but even you can’t save me from hurting. No one can do that for anyone. I can make things perfect in the fictions I create, but the real world isn’t so kind. That’s just how it is. And anyway, for every bad thing in life, there are more good things to tip the balance.”
“Like little blonde nieces. And royalty checks. And you. — Richelle Mead
What you dream, what you darkly desire,
Find it by trial or by fire.
Seek it high and seek it low,
Search the skies or the realms below.
Look everywhere but beware,
The deepest magic, the strongest spell
Will not change what the stars foretell. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan
“Maybe she wants Reese’s pot back”
“This is my chance! She’s here alone. She wants me. Quick.” He yanks my arm and dragged me to the stairs. I cried out in suprise.
“Get out of sight. Throw that away.”
“I’m not throwing this away! Besides, you don’t think she’ll notice that your whole fucking house smells like this? Jesus. Your pupils are the size of her granny panties. Virtuous or not, she isn’t stupid. — Richelle Mead
J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 1050-1054). — J.R. Thorn
“Apple cinnamon? You sure are demanding.”
“It’s all right. I think you’re man enough for it.”
“Thetis, if I actually believed you had either apples or cinnamon in your kitchen, I’d make them for you right now.”
I didn’t answer. I was pretty sure I had some year-old Apple Jacks, but that was about it. — Richelle Mead
I wanted someone to love. — Richelle Mead
“I’ve heard of them,” said Rincewind. “Bloody dangerous things.”
The parrot put its head on one side. “It never worked. All he ever got was a neuralger.”
“It’s a demon that comes and has a headache at you. — Terry Pratchett
He looked appreciative but more amused than anything else. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill.
“Hugh,” I said. “Don’t insult me.”
With a sigh, he produced a five and tucked it underneath my bra strap.
“Hey, Seth,” Cody suddenly said.
I looked up and saw Seth standing in the doorway. A look of comic bemusement was on his face.
“Hey,” he said, studying me. “So … you’re paying for dinner? — Richelle Mead
I watched him go wistfully. Anyone else here feel like swooning? — Richelle Mead
J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 193-194). — J.R. Thorn
“Magically delicious,” he explained. “Requisite for any sort of building project.”
I shook my head, still amazed at how he had managed to weasel his way over here. “This isn’t a date.”
He cut me a scandalized look. “Obviously. I’d bring Count Chocula for that. — Richelle Mead
“Abridged?” I spun toward Jerome. “Tell me you’re getting back at me for the time I accused you of wearing Old Spice.”
“That one’s still coming,” said the demon. “This one’s for real. — Richelle Mead
“I suppose there were a couple of notable similarities,” I observed, holding a straight face.
“A couple? What about attention to detail, heavy exertion, lots of sweat, and single-minded determinedness to get the job done and done well?”
“Mostly I was thinking you just don’t talk during sex.” Mean perhaps, but I couldn’t resist.
“Well, my mouth has better things to do.”
I swallowed, my own mouth dry. “Are we still talking about dancing? — Richelle Mead
“What? Right now?”
“No. For breakfast.”
“Oh.” He yawned. “You’d better get up early then.”
“Me? I’m not going to make them.”
“Yeah?” His sleepy voice carried mock sympathy. “Who’s going to make them for you then?”
“Am I? You think I’m going to make you pancakes? Is that how you think it’s going to be?”
“You’re so good at,” I whined. “Besides, if you do, I’ll sit on the counter in a short robe while you cook.”
His soft laughter segued into another yawn. “Oh. Well then.” He kissed my ear again. “Maybe I’ll make you pancakes. — Richelle Mead
An alarm bell went off in my head and I bit back a sigh. I swore I sensed the mischievous grin that inevitably crossed his lips.
“I already did you.”
It was going to be a long drive. — Natasha McNeely
For example, I look at others with my own eyes, my own values, I evaluate them by my own standards, but when it comes to looking at myself, I look at myself through my father’s eyes. I judge myself by his standards, and in his eyes I was not beautiful, I had flaws. — Anais Nin
“They won’t accept the charges,” I murmured. — Richelle Mead
Niphon’s presence and Jerome’s lecture had put me in a grouchy mood. “I’m not doing any mentoring. She’s so gungho to take on the world’s male population, she doesn’t even need me.”
The three men exchanged more smirks. Cody made some hissing and meowing sounds, scratching at the air.
“This isn’t funny,” I said.
“Sure it is,” said Cody. — Richelle Mead
“Yeah, well, some people are into kinky stuff, I guess. — Richelle Mead
“That new drummer. Alec. He hit on me earlier, and now he’s moving in on Casey. I think he’s one of those guys who thinks plying girls with liquor is the only way to get laid.”
“Wait. I thought I was the only guy who knew that secret. — Richelle Mead
“No. Of course not.”
“It’s only been about four hundred years.”
“Ah. Yes. Only four hundred.” A wry expression spread over his face. “Being with you is a continual experiment in perspective. Among other things. — Richelle Mead
“Yeah.” Seth gestured dramatically toward my coffee table. “If we’re talking superhero abilities. If I had frost power, I could wave my hand, and suddenly that whole thing would be covered in ice.”
“How would frost and/or ice power help you fight crime?”
“Well, I don’t know that it would. But it’d be cool. — Richelle Mead
“Yeah, don’t worry. If I propose, you’ll know it. For one thing, I’ll be hyperventilating.” A sly smile – surprisingly sexy – turned up his lips. “And it’ll be a ruby.”
“Rubies? No diamonds? Too expensive for the old writer’s salary, huh?”
He made a disparaging grunt at that. “No, I just think diamonds are common, that’s all. If I get married, it’ll be because something uncommon is occurring. Besides, you wear a lot of red, right? I know how important it is for your accessories to match. — Richelle Mead
in her palm in his dreams. Sometimes she and the green-eyed girl were one. At other times, the green-eyed girl was alone, a gaping hole where her heart should have been. At all times he could hear the woman’s cold, low laughter. It swept across his consciousness like a hailstorm.
When he woke up, he thought he was going mad. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan
He inclined his head toward me curiously. “Are we still talking about dancing?”
“Well, that depends, I suppose. I heard someone once say that men dance the same way they have sex. So, if you want everyone here to think you’re the kind of guy who just sits around and – ”
He stood up. “Let’s dance. — Richelle Mead
“You always said I should quit the bookstore and find something else to do,” I reminded him.
“Yes, but that was because I thought you’d go on to do something respectable. Like become a stripper or the Mayor’s mistress. — Richelle Mead
For she’ll cause and take your pain.
To others she’s the devil
Or the quest for true love’s bane,
And, to those less lucky,
She’s called their ball and chain. — Phar West Nagle
Hugh and I exchanged glances. “That’s an excellent question,” I said dryly.
Peter looked startled. “Was it you?” he asked Hugh.
“No,” said the imp. “It was Carter.”
“Your Christmas tree was burned down by an angel?” asked Cody.
“Yup. The irony isn’t lost on me — Richelle Mead
(Jackie) — Jill Myles
Suddenly I remembered that her eyelids had never quivered, and that her lilies had not dropped a black petal, or shaken from their places, and understood with a great horror that I danced with one who was more or less than human, and who was drinking up my soul as an ox drinks up a wayside pool; and I fell, and darkness passed over me. — W.B.Yeats
I laughed and smoothed down the skirt of my dress. “I don’t know about that. I don’t think your dad gives your uncle enough credit.”
Brandy gave me a sage look, worthy of someone much older. “Uncle Seth spent last Valentine’s Day at a library. — Richelle Mead
I followed his incredulous gaze to where a man very like Mr. Cusack did indeed stand, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against a building. I sighed.
“That’s not John Cusack. That’s Jerome.”
“Yup. I told you he looked like John Cusack.”
“Keyword: looked. That guy doesn’t look like him. That guy is him. — Richelle Mead
J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 28-29). — J.R. Thorn
“Since when don’t we play games? Games of life, games of death. Games of love, of hope, of chance, of despair, and of all the myriad wonders in between.”
I rolled my eyes at the newcomer. “Hello, Carter. — Richelle Mead
He shook his head. “No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, I am.”
I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. “I am too.”
“No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don’t wear jeans and sweaters. — Richelle Mead
She gave him a blank look. “I only hate stupid men who don’t actually understand what ‘feminist’ means.”
He laughed. “You run into a lot of men like that?”
“All the time.”
“Even as we speak, Nick.”
“Oh no she didn’t,” said Peter. I groaned. — Richelle Mead
“That’s kind of extreme” said Dante jovially. “It’s not like you work for Google or anything. — Richelle Mead
J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 1198-1199). — J.R. Thorn
“Kettle. It’s a kettle. Get your metaphors right.”
“That wasn’t a metaphor. It was a, you know … ” He stared off into space, blinking. “One of those things that’s symbolic of another thing. But isn’t the same thing. Just like it.”
“You mean a metaphor?”
“No! It’s like a story … like … a proverb! That’s it.”
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a proverb. Maybe it was an analogy.”
“I don’t think so. — Richelle Mead
“I bet I can guess,” said Simone. “Chocolate.”
“Strawberry,” said Maddie.
Losers. It was vanilla.
“Vanilla,” said Seth. — Richelle Mead
It was another of those rare moments when I’d surprised Carter. I waited for the glib answer I’d mentioned to Seth, something along the lines of goodness being its own reward. The angel considered for several seconds. “Humans make those deals all the time,” he said finally. “They just don’t make them with God.”
“Then who are they making them with?” I exclaimed.
“Themselves. — Richelle Mead
that restricted people and punished or rewarded them based on how they responded to their own natures, natures they really didn’t have any way to control. — Richelle Mead
“A nephi-what?” asked Hugh, startled.
“Isn’t that a character on Sesame Street?” Peter spoke up for the first time. — Richelle Mead
“Hey,” I said, poking him with my foot, “be nice.”
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you look anything less than … ” He paused, playing with word choice. “Well-planned.”
“Why, you silver-tongued romantic devil. That is the look I usually go for. Other women go for sexy or chic or beautiful. But me? Well-planned all the way.”
“You know what I mean. Besides, unplanned isn’t a bad look for you. Not bad at all.”
His voice sounded deliciously low and dangerous, and something ignited between us as we held each other’s eyes. — Richelle Mead
– Oh, no! I am much worse: succubus wants body, Mephistopheles wants soul, but I want you all, with your flesh and soul! — Bryanna Reid
“We sell them downstairs.”
“Oh yeah? Is there a page on how to woo the fair Georgina?”
“Page? Hell, there’s a whole chapter.”
“Required reading, I’d imagine.”
“Definitely. — Richelle Mead
“John Cusack,” I corrected. “He looks like John Cusack.”
“Whatever. — Richelle Mead
“Thank you, little one. I made them out of the tears of a succubus and a lightning-struck tree stump I found under the Winter Moon. I like your face.”
I grinned. “Thank you, big one. My parents made it when they got married. I was a honeymoon baby, whatever that means. — T.J. Klune
glow faintly in forgotten corners, in mysterious mind-nooks,
in lost memory maps. Secrets are the shadows of the soul. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan
“Why are you so sweet?” I asked, my voice small. My heart beat rapidly, and every star peeping through the clouds seemed to be shining just for me.
“I don’t think I’m that sweet. I mean, I just told you to be quiet. That’s one step away from asking you to wash my laundry and make me a sandwich.”
“You know what I mean.”
Seth pressed another kiss to my forehead. “I’m sweet because you make it easy to be sweet. — Richelle Mead
I gaped. “Are you kidding? You’re the most interesting person I know. Aside from Hugh maybe. But then, he installs breast implants and buys souls. That’s a hard combination to beat. But he’s not nearly as cute. — Richelle Mead