Ann Aguirre
Ann Aguirre
Ann Aguirre is an American author of speculative fiction. She writes urban fantasy, romantic science fiction, apocalyptic paranormal romance, paranormal romantic suspense, and post-apocalyptic dystopian young-adult fiction...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
CountryUnited States of America
bears done scar
I shake my head, but I can’t change this. I can only bear the scars, as I have always done, as I ever do.
heart littles bones
My heart shifted a little in my chest; it seemed to swell and beat against my bones until I couldn't hear.
mets
I never belonged anywhere until I met you.
broken way damage
We're broken in complementary ways, thus rendering our damage comprehensible to each other.
missing-someone determination loss
You could miss someone, but it did no good to fixate on loss. I wished I had the ready words of a Breeder or the ability to comfort with a soft touch. I didn't. Instead I had daggers and determination. That would have to do.
pushing mets persons
He is not the same person as when we met, but . . . neither am I. Time has refined us, but instead of pushing us apart, we’re closer than ever.
fields steps razors
But it was like a dance across a field strewn with razors, and I bled with every step I took.
flames space people
Is that love? It seems like a pale word, too easily tossed about by people who don’t know the meaning of it, who twist it for their own ends. I’m afraid of it now, right up there with clowns, close spaces, and open flames.
feelings like-you whole-life
You ever have that feeling? Like you’ve known someone your whole life but you don’t know them at all.
stupid men hands
Men can be very stupid. We cease to value what we have until it's gone, and only then do we realize the gold we glimpsed in distant hills pales as dross compared to treasure we had in hand.
bears scar
He would bear scars because of me, as I carried them for him.
eye expression knives
His face held a certain impassivity; you see it in all waiters and valets. They might want to jam a knife through your left eye socket, but you'd never know it from their expression. Working retail, I've acquired a similar look myself.
broken pieces sometimes
Sometimes broken things heal crooked. The pieces didn’t fit anymore.
effort dying
Dying isn’t like living; it requires no effort at all.