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Georgina Anne Taylor quotes Showing 1-14 of 14

“The surge of his ardour swept through him in climatic release, filling her womb with his final, mortal sowing.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, The Woman of the Well
“The bloody red head emerged.
The white sheet turned crimson.
The infant sat up.
Unfurling soft, white feathered wings, the newborn demigoddess regarded the world around her with large, beguiling blue eyes. As if satisfied with what she saw, she seized her own umbilical cord between her small, sharp teeth and severed her tie with her mother with one, quick bite.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Bewitchments and Betrayals
“What need for feathers now? What need to confirm their loss? While the womb-red sky swelled with the promise of tomorrow, and he rode the warm, crimson currents, skimming, wheeling and gliding.”
Georgina Anne Taylor
“Lilith returned to her cooking. She didn't let herself think about anything but preparing the food, one ingredient at a time, a pinch of this into a bowl of that, a vial of this into a jug of that, and so it went, while the sweat ran off her in rivulets and her hair and dress clung to her, and the kitchen hummed with the droning of flies.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Sorrow's Child
“You shall be the Reaper, Lilith,’ the Aquis said. ‘You shall be the Redeemer. The Seducer of Demigods and the Slayer of Kings.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Sorrow's Child
“Branches moved and shadows shifted as Lilith dug the poppet's final grave.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Sorrow's Child
“You just got what was coming for you!" Anger stripped the niceties from her speech. Lilith spun around to face him again—her fists clenched—as if she could strike him, and wipe the sneer from his dead lips. He infuriated her. Nauseated her. Drove her mad with his mockery. Death had made him bitter, and any charm had sloughed away, along with his flesh.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Bewitchments and Betrayals
“Meng flew low over the darkness of the treetops, thinking of Meabel’s silky body, his jealousy like a living entity inside him, swelling with each mortal that fell to his sister’s myriad charms—men she had not yet consumed.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Bewitchments and Betrayals
“Lilith fought the urge to scream. Why couldn’t the bastard have remained dead? What sort of horrible, messed up fate was this? To be plagued by Ibur, after all she’d gone through, in order to be rid of him...”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Bewitchments and Betrayals
“He clung to his pain as an anchor to the physical world, to the husk that housed his soul, too precious to be cast aside, yet the pulse and colour leeched from his wounded body as surely as his blood, and hope foundered in the face of that inevitable end.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Fairy Tales for Freya
“A chill crept into his limbs and he began to question his struggle against the sure demise of his damaged flesh—so much easier to surrender, to cease the pain, to accept his fate. Instead he raised himself from the damp ground and leaning back against the willow’s gnarled trunk, he gasped for breath, his lungs heavy with fluid. And as he sat, his chin resting against his chest, his eyes upon that ancient pool, his mind began a swift unravelling, the memories cascading like a turbulent river bound for union with the endless sea.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Fairy Tales for Freya
“As a child she had run wild, a brown-eyed and tousled-hair creature, lanky limbs scratched and bruised, among the fishing boats, the shanties and the dunes. A girl at once curious and tempestuous, a girl all too comely, too sharp of wit and her laughter all too loud.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Fairy Tales for Freya
“The sorcerer’s creatures harried her, dragging at her skirts and tangling in her hair, as Lilith gripped the axe handle firmly and walked down the cobblestone path to the kitchen.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, Sorrow's Child
“Secluded in her living room, the midday sun dimmed by long, burgundy drapes—the soft velvet cloth a steal on EBay—Circe watches the soapies on her plasma screen TV. Her elegant fingers deliver fine chocolates to her perfect lips. Her divine green eyes are dull, her expression glazed.”
Georgina Anne Taylor, More Fairy Tales for Freya


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