Terror is the instinct that tells you to run, dear God, run, she murmured. Run for your life. But it just makes you into meat. Predators take the ones who run. Horror is the mind-thing, the worm of knowledge you… — Kat Richardson Copy Share Image
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
