I wanted to make a small movie about a guy and a girl on the beach, but then I thought, wouldn't it be cool if a werewolf was there?
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I think we all have to fight the werewolf within us somehow.
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I'm in the fifth one, so I'm reading the book now. You know he's not a werewolf don't you? He's actually a cat!
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Fall down again, Bella?'No, Emmett, I punched a werewolf in the face.
fall face twilight werewolf bella bella-swan jacob-black
Brian came in heavy at that moment on his guitar, the rapid, high-pitched squeal ranging back and forth as his fingers flew along the frets. As the intro's tempo grew more rapid, Bekka heard Derek's subtle bass line as it worked its way in. After another few seconds Will came in, slow at first, but racing along to match the others' pace. When their combined efforts seemed unable to get any heavier, David jumped into the mix. As the sound got nice and heavy, Bekka began to rock back-and-forth onstage. In front of her, hundreds of metal-lovers began to jump and gyrate to their music. She matched their movements for a moment, enjoying the connection that was being made, before stepping over to the keyboard that had been set up behind her. Sliding her microphone into an attached cradle, she assumed her position and got ready. Right on cue, all the others stopped playing, throwing the auditorium into an abrupt silence. Before the crowd could react, however, Bekka's fingers began to work the keys, issuing a rhythm that was much softer and slower than what had been built up. The audience's violent thrash-dance calmed at that moment and they began to sway in response. Bekka smiled to herself. This is what she lived for.
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Back the fuck off fluffy!
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She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a tiny, bloody angel in the snow, and they were going to destroy her.
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Welcome back, Jem.
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I handed him a beaker and toyed with the pleats of my skirt. The folds kept rippling against my knees in a distracting way. It was one of Naomi's additions to my wardrobe. I quickly decided that I hated it.
funny humor fantasy werewolf
Nevertheless, the potential and actual importance of fantastic literature lies in such psychic links: what appears to be the result of an overweening imagination, boldly and arbitrarily defying the laws of time, space and ordered causality, is closely connected with, and structured by, the categories of the subconscious, the inner impulses of man's nature. At first glance the scope of fantastic literature, free as it is from the restrictions of natural law, appears to be unlimited. A closer look, however, will show that a few dominant themes and motifs constantly recur: deals with the Devil; returns from the grave for revenge or atonement; invisible creatures; vampires; werewolves; golems; animated puppets or automatons; witchcraft and sorcery; human organs operating as separate entities, and so on. Fantastic literature is a kind of fiction that always leads us back to ourselves, however exotic the presentation; and the objects and events, however bizarre they seem, are simply externalizations of inner psychic states. This may often be mere mummery, but on occasion it seems to touch the heart in its inmost depths and become great literature.
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You know, considering your IQ, you're really socially retarded sometimes.
life paranormal ya werewolf
Pray as if all things depend on God, and work as if all things depend on you.
romance dark paranormal paranormal-romance werewolf christina-dodd demon
I've fallen in love with you. I love you even now when you sit before me with the eyes of a wolf. So take pity upon the fool I have become. I forgot it was only a bargain between us.
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Weave the circle, tightly sewn, Let nothing evil or unknownEnter within. Stay withoutOn pain of death, we cast you out.
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Which side was I on? There was no time to search for answers. All I could do now was ride on a werewolf's back, toward a destiny as hidden as the dark side of the moon.
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The world won't end with a bang or a whimper. It'll end with the death screams of a thousand demons and a defiant, carefree, savage, wolfen howl.
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She once told him about the mysterious trampled-down places found in fields, which the peasants superstitiously called werewolves' nests. Coming across one of these sites, she fell to her knees and buried her face in the flattened yellow grasses, hoping to inhale the odor of a werewolf, a csordásfarkas. As if his scent was a charm. She smelled nothing but hay burned by the afternoon sun.
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Fate and destiny go hand in hand. It is impossible to change our destiny. Only the path upon which we walk to reach our destination alters. If we should stray from that path, fate will take control and guide us in the right direction.
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A piercing screech from above caught my attention. However, it was the arm landing beside me with teeth marks that let me know what was going on. Can you be a little more careful where you let body parts fall?- Faith, Witch Devotions
paranormal paranormal-romance supernatural vampire werewolf witch
Although only three legs would obey him, the white wolf began to run. Run, to outpace the agony that could rip and tear a human heart. Run, to outdistance the human grief that could not be borne. Run, to be as the moon, a swift white shape gleaming in the night. Run, to be a wolf and only a wolf. As he raced away into the welcoming arms of the night, James was only fleetingly aware that he had just buried his human self alongside Evelyn. And then he was aware of nothing.
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At that moment, I wished I were the wind, free to dance across her flesh, seep through her clothing, and explore the forbidden depths of her body beneath.
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A warrior knows death is always a hair's breadth away, but he doesn't dwell on the possibility of his death when he goes into battle. A warrior just fights. He fights to protect his family, his home, his people, himself, and often, the good of man. The wolf never gives a passing thought to the possibility of his death. For the wolf, he will fight to the end if need be, solely to defend his territory. Neither of these things are necessarily a reason to enter into battle when you are already weakened. They just are what they are. They live in a warrior's heart, in a wolf's heart. And both, for me, are in my heart.
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I think I need to get a new dress. But what kind of dress? Maybe a red one. Red is a good color. Right? Whadaya think? Or maybe black? Which one? Or maybe both in one.. Whatcha think of the moon tonight? Really red, huh?Sarafine stared at her quizzically for a few moments before she spoke gently. 'Angel, did you have too much blood to drink?' The vampire looked back at her with her big red eyes. So her answer was yes. As she smiled, Sarafine noticed a few drops of blood drip from her teeth. She sighed and took Angeleke by the arm. It would take a bit before the blood drained out of her and the blood-spell would be over. Some time for her to go hunting.
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My body slid from human to wolf in a crack! Of black smoke. Wolf was panting and I watched frost dissipate on my hot tongue, sending tiny rivulets of steam into the air. The world was sharp and clear, and I never realized how many different colors of shadow there were. It made me savor the dark beauty of night even more.
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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.
paranormal werewolf
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