70 Quotes About Urban Fantasy Series

Anya looked upon Nin admirably. Having him as a partner-in-crime–if only on this one occasion, which she hoped would only be the start of something more–was more revitalizing than the cheap thrills of a cookie-cutter shallow, superficial romance, where the top priority was how beautiful a person was on the outside. Jess C. Scott

She tapped her chest. “No, I’m not a freak, okay, so could you stop pressuring me.” Rafael muttered something under his breath, throwing up his hands in surrender. “So what am I? What’s Karhl, Jayani, my brother, and all the BaSatai? Are we all freaks? Justbecause this human has some kind of fascination with labeling you, you believe in it. Be your own person, Armani, not what someone else says you are. . Suzan Battah

Walking out into the night with a water fey was all kinds of stupid. Heck, Kelpies eat people. They may not play with their food as creatively as the Each Uisge, but dead is dead. E.J. Stevens

Sometimes you must slow down to see that the world isnt spinning, rather its your own mind which makes things turn Sedrie Danielle

Death drives desire. Rosemary A. Johns

Blood Life is not hunger. It’s freedom Rosemary A. Johns

You know those vampire myths? Bollocks to them. Rosemary A. Johns

…dancing in the carnage and the flames. Rosemary A. Johns

This is the right time They are the right people Will it be enough for mankind? From "The Rishis: Book of Secrets. Robert Delgado

The thunder of horses’ hooves grows ever louder, but, still, I do not move. The thunder of those hooves, the thudding of my heart, and the gasping in my lungs make such a cacophony, it’s a wonder I hear Edmund at all. Suzanna J. Linton

Why can’t I have my own life?! Suzanna J. Linton

Samantha turns toward us as we enter and her mouth drops open. “You.” Pure joy floods her face like sunlight falling through storm clouds, and she runs up to me, laying hands on either side of my face as she gazes deeply into my eyes. “There you are. Suzanna J. Linton

It’s a very private moment when your heart breaks. I was thankful we were alone. I knew I couldn’t keep her, but I would always do anything to protect her. S.G. Holster

You're not safe with me." He cut me off, seeming to growl. "I don't want to be safe. I want to be with you. You can't do this alone. S.G. Holster

Before we go on from here, I just want to say, " he paused and took a step closer to me and reached his hand out to my heart. "What I should have said back on the plane is I know you're real." His eyes narrowed, "I'll always fight for you, Lexi, in my own way. S.G. Holster

I immediately thought of the stars. Stars. Heavenly bodies formed by huge clouds of dust and gas bumpinginto one another, getting bigger, their gravity getting stronger. Once hot enough, nuclear fusion occurs. And then a star is formed. People are shaped in a similar way–just like stars–excessive amounts of dust and hot gas. And like stars, everyone’s life has a turning point prior to their big bang. The shit show before the creation. Y ’know, one of those moments that can fuck you up. Cleopatra’s was when her father named her joint regent at fourteen. Fucked-up.Bruce Wayne’s when he witnessed his parents get murdered. Fucked-up.Charles Manson’s when his mother sold him for a pitcher of beer. Fucked. Up.Not to mention 'Helter Skelter. Jorge Enrique Ponce

What is life but a fucked-up factory fabricating fuckups? Jorge Enrique Ponce

Was James bipolar?” The tears returned, and I watched her battle them. “We don’t use that word in our family.” I stared at her for a moment. “Why not?”“ Mum and Dad don’t believe in it.” She kept walking. “James was always … troubled. But there was nothing wrong with him, nothing more than anyone else anyway, everyone feels a bit down sometimes.”“ Olivia! It was more than feeling down.” She laughed, bitterly. “I know, Dee, fuck, do I know that. I’m just telling you how it goes. The party line–what we told people when they asked. Hazel Butler

I swore as the knife I’d been using to dice our dinner bit into my finger. I dropped it on the floor, blood spattering the counter and cupboard doors a furious red. I watched, mesmerised, as the blood welled up and began to seep down my hand; I tried to catalogue the amount of pain I was in. Surprisingly little, I concluded, pushing at the edges of the wound to see how deep it went. Deep enough. I was starting to feel it now, but it didn’t hurt so much. I’d endured far worse. If it came to it, I could do it. There was comfort in that knowledge. Hazel Butler

James had taken his own life, but the need to do so was not something easily explained. He had the life he wanted: money, a home, a job, a wife, a good friend. I’d known people who died at their own hand because life became unbearable, or because something happened, something terrible. That wasn’t so for James–there was something inside him, something a part of him, something over which he had no control, but which had absolute control over him. . Hazel Butler

Death begins before birth. I have always found this an odd notion, but were it not for the death of certain cells during our initial development, humans would be born with webbed toes. Death moulds our physical being from the very start of our existence. It sculpts us, determines how we begin, and where we end. The events in life that define us, that break us and remake us, all stem from death–the death of a place, a time, a relationship, of those we hold most dear, and finally ourselves. Death is the one inescapable aspect of life, the only immutable force, the single thing in this world that cannot and should not be changed. But death is never the end. It is the beginning. Hazel Butler

It was a fact that had become the focus of my entire life, a whisper in my heartbeat, a permanent, insidious presence that punctuated my every breath. I couldn’t escape it, that persistent voice, lingering in the blood pulsing through my veins. It said only one thing, over and over, a repetition of inescapable anguish, the knowledge of a thing that could never be undone. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. . Hazel Butler

Father Gregory laid a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes life knocks us to our knees." His hand tightened briefly. "But that's a damn good position to pray from. Laura Oliva

Armani halted, thinking twice about making her way over there, but she pushed forward not wanting to believe something was wrong. There was nothing worse than walking into a nightmare. And Armani just did. The air in her lungs seized when she saw her draped all over him. She blinked a few times, but Lily was still pressing her body all over Rafael.Armani wanted to kill her, right then and there. Suzan Battah

Armani froze to the spot, unable to move. Her breath tightened in her lungs, shivers of awareness ran down her spine, the sudden energy zipping through her body announcing the shimmer of recognition. Suzan Battah

Go do your thing, magic girl. Laura Oliva

Akil, humans have these wonderful little things we like to cling onto, called souls. The jury’s still out as to whether demons have them, I sincerely doubt you do." ~ Muse. Pippa DaCosta

This isn’t going to be a cute little storybook you can close when you’re done. You open this and you’re going to be letting things out you cannot possibly imagine. And believe me when I tell you this is no fairytale.”— Eli (Darkness Of Light) Stacey Marie Brown

Something that sounded like ripping metal shredded the deadly quiet. The inaudible bass smoothed into a low, steady hum. Outside, a low, mechanical growl rumbled closer and closer. Darius caught his breath. He knew that sound, and it wasn't magic. It was a motorcycle. Laura Oliva

M.T. Stone was the poster boy for what an assassin should look like. Mary Buckham

How long since he'd been back home? Ten years? Fifteen? He'd stopped keeping track around the time he'd finally stopped looking over his shoulder. At the time, leaving had seemed too good to be true. He'd spent months feeling like he was half a step ahead of some nameless specter; like if he let his guard down, even for a second, whatever it was would drag him right back where he'd come from. Laura Oliva

The demon is crouched in the corner, between the Cheetos and the onion dip. It’s a small one, only about four feet tall: a low-level creeper. I flick my gaze over the spot like I don’t see it and open the cooler door to get a Coke. Rachel A. Marks

He night beyond the window was still, mordant white snow, punctuated only by the eerie dark of the trees, gumshoeing their way along the edge of the path outside. Their skeletal fingers clawed up at the stars, held down by an insidious, weightless lacing of snowflakes. I gazed idly at the moon and wondered if it truly had the power to sway the will of men. Hazel Butler

The night beyond the window was still, mordant white snow, punctuated only by the eerie dark of the trees, gumshoeing their way along the edge of the path outside. Their skeletal fingers clawed up at the stars, held down by an insidious, weightless lacing of snowflakes. I gazed idly at the moon and wondered if it truly had the power to sway the will of men. Hazel Butler

Is there a club for bitchiness management, like Alcoholics Anonymous? Because, seriously, I think you should visit it. Alexandra Engellmann

I’m beginning to feel as though we’re in some kind of cocoon, I’m just afraid as to what we are going to emerge as. Will I fly away or will he destroy me. Nicole T. Smith

Melody exploded. "THIS ISN'T LIKE GETTING A FISH TO SEE IF I COULD BE RESPONSIBLE ENOUGH FOR A PUPPY! " She took a deep breath, calmed herself and lowered her voice. She then repeated the statement as if doing so removed the stink of the outburst." I'm well aware of that, " said Lonnie. "And not to poke it with a stick, but you don't see any puppies sniffing around that empty fish bowl, do you? B.M.B. Johnson

Insects crawled across my skin, legs skittering across my flesh, numbed paths of cold left in their wake. They were the creatures that heralded my ghosts, and I knew them well, yet the revulsion they caused in those moments far exceeded anything I’d felt before. Hazel Butler

I have to. I've been fighting it all night. I'm going to lose. My battle is as futile as a woman feeling the first pangs of labor and deciding it's an inconvenient time to give birth. Nature wins out. It always does. Kelley Armstrong

Do I at least get to keep the toothbrush?”“ Sure. Unless you can get it back in that wrapper and seal it up all nice and new. Well, that’s what the last girl did. See, you can hardly tell it’s been opened! ”-- Reggie Sinclair from Angela's Coven Bruce Jenvey

Protect us, Golden One. I believe we are all going to need it. Cynthia D. Witherspoon

When you find her, you will have the answers you need. Cynthia D. Witherspoon

We are all looking for someone to save us. Cynthia D. Witherspoon

So the owner of a monster head wants to meet on a path named Nut, ” I said. “That’s appropriate. Lisa Shearin

Then again, in some of our meetings, the Upyri bring cocktails, shaking both cocks and tails. Bitches. You can't live with them, they can't live without you. It's a lose-lose situation. Yannis Karatsioris

Admitting defeat? How un-huntress like of you. Yvonne Nicolas

Ain't good to talk too much about infernal affairs if you can avoid it. Tends to make certain things stand up and pay attention. Laura Oliva

Did you feel it? Did you feel the darkness in their souls and their countless evil deeds? Their fate was to die in my grasp, beneath the sting of my bite. Unknown

In the distance, steel-blue mountains loomed heavy on the horizon, their shoulders burdened with the same accursed snow the gods were currently depositing upon the lowlands. Between us and the mountains, the vast expanse of one of the innumerable caravan sites littering the Welsh shores was dimly visible, and at the far edges of the sands, grey waves tipped a mulch of brown foam up on to the beach, a sudden deposition of wishy-washy creatures that seemed to spider-leg over each other in their haste to reach the shore and see what all the fuss was about. But even these creatures comprised of sea-foam were freaked out by the death-stare, for the little critters swiftly dissipated under the force of a skeletal glower. A skull lay in the sand, its empty sockets staring down the beach at the retreating surge. Their fear wouldn’t last long. Soon they’d realise the skeleton had not engaged in pursuit, their confidence would grow, and they’d encroach, further and further up the bank. Eventually, they’d be close enough to see it was completely inert, and would overrun our position, victoriously sweeping up their fallen foe and dragging it back out with them into the dreary waves. . Hazel Butler

I imagined her poised, a humerus in one hand, a toothbrush in the other, as she gently brushed away the last remnants of the person who had once used that arm to shake hands, open doors, lift a mug of tea. I wondered if it was so very different from how I myself looked when I sat on the floor of my finds room, perhaps sitting cross-legged, at the centre of a circle of newly cleaned bones, a tibia in one hand, a toothbrush in the other … . Hazel Butler

We fell in love with that little peep-show projection on the inside of an iris, pictures that amount to nothing more than the thirsty moon over a spot of bloody ground. Those weren’t the nothings we restless sleepwalkers knew, no place no home no song. So we heard her and we followed until she went where we couldn't follow. She went down beyond the mountains and disappeared between the crease of sky and land, like a great eyelid folding shut. No one knows what happened out in the Black Hills, but I imagine she lies buried in a rusty coffin under the stars. And on nights when the desert crickets sing her tune, they say one day she will rise again. On that day, there is no telling the kind of vengeance she'll demand of us. Fair is fair. They say when she fell from Heaven she wore a crown of jagged stars that slit the skies throat. They say she loved them all, in the secret corners of their shallow sleep. Strangers, at the last. They say a lot of things. They’re all lies. Everything is already written. James Curcio

If this is where you ask me to run around in my birthday suit, I’m not entirely comfortable with that, ” I said, smirking. Laura Kreitzer

A shade flickered to my left, an eerie shadow balanced even more precariously on the railing than I. Her plimsolls struggled to grip the same rail my fingers now held. I knew her face, just as I knew her death; I’d watched it often enough, those times I’d been unable to avoid crossing here. Nerys was always here, tied to the moment of her death, an echo, forever hurtling down into those waters, only to reappear an instant later, once more wavering on the rails. . Hazel Butler

Never stray from your own kind, Jessen, ” my mother would say, “or you could end up like Princess Morga, a slave and outcast to be abhorred.” The problem was, I’d never been a very obedient daughter. Never the one to do exactly as I was told. And fairy tales have no meaning when the stars align and Fortune spins her wheel, weaving her own story for your heart. Juliette Cross

Growing up in NYC, The broken sidewalks, graffiti filled subways, and humid Laundromats, did not offer solace. I found solace in the strings of my violin, in my ballet slippers at the studio, and while gazing at frescoes in the halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was always in the Arts that my soul was replenished. Susan Anne Russell

Without the queen pulling your strings, you’re nothing but thoughts and dreams. Such things are easily destroyed." ~ General Kael, City of Fae #2 Pippa DaCosta

Mall maintenance halls are creepy. Plain and white, with fluorescent lighting, they evoke images of serial killers, hockey masks nd bloody butcher knives. The figure standing at the end does not help matters. Suzanna J. Linton

In front of me stands a willow tree by a river, its long green tendrils trailing into the chuckling water. A man sits beneath the tree, back propped against the trunk, gently strumming a lute as he looks out over the water. He feels familiar to me, as if I must know him. As if it would be impossible not to know him. I do not approach. I simply listen to the water and the lute, the sound settling deeply into my bones and heart. Suzanna J. Linton

The motel owner, who walked up when the police car came screaming in with lights flashing, takes me into the office. He sits me down with a mug of coffee. The mug is blue and reads in white lettering, Warning: Murderous Until Caffeinated. Suzanna J. Linton

It seemed for a moment as if something was there, loitering between the knurled and towering cherry trees, a flash of a presence as stark as the sight of the snow against their bare branches and cracked, piceous bark. Unblinking, I watched the edge of the lake, waiting for it to reappear, but whatever it had been was gone, vanished under cover of a willow tree, lofty and dense, rearing over the lake, its branches dripping all the way to the ground. The tree’s lament had been transformed into a thing of such beauty I was tempted to go and hide within it. Hazel Butler

Joshua had always been able to get away with things–things for which he should never have been forgiven. He was a lot like James in that respect, for while my husband had bought his grace with his brilliance, Joshua did so with his looks. I considered that a moment, before turning away, suddenly finding I could not bear to look at him for fear of what I might forgive next. Hazel Butler

The past had already been dealt with, to one end or another, it was certain, fixed, the horror of it was already over. For the living at least. They grieved, yes, but they were not trapped in the terror of the moment. Not so for my poor, elegant wraiths. They were like the old-fashioned zoetropes you find at the seaside: a tiny slice of a world in a box, brief yet somehow also eternal. Hazel Butler

I found serenity in the towers, especially the highest, even in the midst of winter. The crows also enjoyed the lofts, and I habitually fed them. Often I held conference with the grotesques lining the summit. The gryphon was perhaps my favourite. I’d regularly sat beside them when feeling pensive, even before James’s death, one leg dangling precariously over the edge Hazel Butler

She stood in the snow, effervescent, all pale skin and blonde hair, clad in white and bathed in moonlight. She should have looked angelic, instead she looked like a corpse, freshly raised from the grave, frosted in ice and darkness, swaying precariously in a graveyard. Hazel Butler

The reflection was that of a putrefying corpse. By some trick of the light, her face seemed sallow and slipping, the patches of darkness giving the appearance of skin sloughing off in small pockets. I’d almost forgotten the knife in my panic; the woman was far more dangerous than the weapon. Blood drizzled down the blade, obscuring the macabre reflection of Natalya’s face and suddenly I was transfixed by a thought that should have been immediate: Whose blood is that?. Hazel Butler

Oh, Moon, upon me shine- Give back his life, instead take mine. Send back his heart, return his breath. Please release him from his death. Give back his eyes, bring back his voice. I willingly have made this choice. Hand back his plans, restore his mind, I willingly grant you mine. Oh, Moon, Oh, Stars, upon me glow- Tell the river to let go. Unknown

The ego of a god, the wit of a goldfish. Shah Wharton

Being human was a lot more difficult than it looked. Demon was easy. Demon was simple. Human was…terrifying." Muse Pippa DaCosta