Yet, it had been Dimitri’s gentleness and thoughtfulness mixed with that deadliness that made him so wonderful. The same hands that wielded stakes with such precision would carefully brush the hair out of my face. The eyes that could astutely spot any danger in the area would regard me wonderingly and worshipfully, like I was the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world.
Other people spoke, and I tried to keep up with the translations. All the stories were about Dimitri's kindness and strength of character. Even when not out battling the undead, Dimitri had always been there to help those who needed it. Almost everyone could recall sometime that Dimitri had stepped up to help others, going out of his way to do what was right, even in situations that could put him at risk. That was no surprise to me. Dimitri always did the right thing. And it was that attitude that had made me love him so much. I had a similar nature. I too rushed in when others needed me, sometimes when I shouldn't have. Others called me crazy for it, but Dimitri had understood. He'd always understood me, and part of what we'd worked on was how to temper that impulsive need to run into danger with reason and calculation. I had a feeling no one else in this world would ever understand me like he did.
Okay, God, I thought. Get me out of this and I’ll stop my half-assed church-going ways. You got me past a pack of Strigoi tonight. I mean, trapping that one between the doors really shouldn't have worked, so clearly you're on board. Let me get out of here, and I’ll...I don’t know. Donate Adrian’s money to the poor. Get baptized. Join a convent. Well, no. Not that last one.
When we were almost to the other campus, I felt the weird nausea hit me. I called a warning to Christian, just as a Strigoi grabbed him. But Christian was fast. Flames wreathed the Strigoi's head. He screamed and released Christian, trying frantically to put the flames out. The Strigoi never saw me coming with the stake. The whole thing took under a minute. Christian and I exchanged looks. Yeah. We were badasses.
الكربي الراحل - بينوي ماجومدر لم يكن لدى الكربي هذا النوع من الورود في أواخر العشرينات أنا مجنونة من هذه الصدمة ؛ هل كان هناك أي سوء فهم؟ شخص آخر ، بالطبع ، كان معجب ، كان البحث طويلاً وخفيفاً ومشرقاً. في نومي ، مثل أن تمتص ذهب في قلب الاستخدام. لا ، هذا ليس جيدًا ، لكنه أيضًا مبارك ، هذا السلام لا يمكن التنبؤ بها ، والتقييم ، ظل الظل. إذا لم يكن كذلك ، ألم عدم تناول طعم الكحول ، القلب مجنون ، يبحث عن ملجأ في الجسد. مما لا شك فيه أن المرأة تأكل اللحم فقط في جشعه ، فتح بابه الأبدي ، في حالة عدم وجود أملاح لا طعم لها بسبب نقص الملح. لا أحد يريد أن ينهي هذا ، يا أدعياء مفتونين ، الملح شجي ، حلو.
The one thing my mother did make was what was known at the time as lox and onions and eggs. Now, no one makes it with lox; they make it with nova. That was my mother's specialty, which she cooked on New Year's Day for the Rose Bowl games, which we had a party for every year. It took her about an hour to make scrambled eggs.
During the Great Depression, levels of crime actually dropped. During the 1920s, when life was free and easy, so was crime. During the 1930s, when the entire American economy fell into a government-owned alligator moat, crime was nearly non-existent. During the 1950s and 1960s, when the economy was excellent, crime rose again.