Terror is the instinct that tells you to run, dear God, run, she murmured. Run for your life. But it just makes you into… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
“area was less busy, swirling like currents in a lazy stream and sparking light greens, clear blue, and lemon yellow, which was a relief… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
“What about the motorcycle parts?" "Those belong to my sort-of boyfriend. He's in Italy right now, visiting his family, and I like to have… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
Are you at work?" I asked. Not precisely, but that's a good suggestion.... — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
“Twas the night before Christmas—well, the late afternoon, in fact, but who could tell at the North Pole in the middle of winter—and Matthias… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
“You must be careful, Harper. You're stubborn, hardheaded, scientific practicalist, and all of this seems like a nightmare to you that you hope will… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
“Fall?” he repeated. “Say more like flying, as if someone threw you. What . . . was that?” I chewed on my words before… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
“So what building are we breaking into? Give me all the information you've got and I'll hunt down the rest. By the way, when… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
“I threw my arms around him. “I yearn only for you.” Quinton gave a self-conscious shrug and an embarrassed laugh. “I feel the same… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
