What it comes down to is this, Betsy: you do what you need to, and then you haul ass out of there. Every single time.
I—I adore you, too. Well, I don't know if I adore you. That's not really the word I'd use. But I—I— I managed to wrench it out. God, this was hard! I love you.Of course you do, he said, totally unsurp...
I've been stabbed before. Barely a week ago, in fact. AND I've been audited, AND I come from a broken home. In short - no offense, shorty - you don't scare me.
I swore we'd never be together, but—''Your inner whore would not be denied.' she finished.
I could have gone to medical school, I said. Except for all the math and stuff.
He turned to her and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. When he spoke his deep voice vibrated all through her. 'I. Remember. Everything.
Andrew Vachss, the best noir-ey writer in the history of the genre, called cats the lap dancers of the animal world. Give them attention, they’re there. Stop, they’re outta there.
I suppose I should say something negative about vampires living in sin, Father Markus said, but that seems to be the least of your problems.
I really did have my reasons. I don't blame you for being mmpphhh-phargle.She mmpphh-phargled because he tugged her into his embrace and buried his nose in her hair.
Getting gratitude is becoming a thing with you, but even so, you're the worst Antichrist ever, Jessica said. Which is actually comforting. Stay close.
Fredrika Bimm, what do you think you're doing?Freaking out. Losing my mind. Thinking about snapping your husband's spine. Squashing the urge to vomit. Wishing I had died at childbirth.Oh, you say that...
Can you burn me up with holy water? Poke me to death with your crucifix? Pelt me with communion wafers?
Back off, boys. You don't want to mess with an out-of-work secretary. We're real testy.
And nothing against the Dicks and Richards of the world, but I always disliked that one. Call me immature if you like—I’ve earned it many times over—but come on: The word. Is slang. For penis. If he w...
Also,I loathe it when you refer to me as dude Eric Sinclair to Betsy
You know, they did let you have that room, I said. In fact, I think they’re assuming you’ll use it, as opposed to lingering in strange hallways.She responded to me with, Girl, I am bored outta my tits...
Wow, girlfriend, you're incompatible with life!And here I thought I was just incompatible with pink.
What the hell was it about e-mail that made everybody forget the stuff they learned in second grade, like capitalizing I and proper names, and using periods? Hello? We all learned how to do this less...
The man had a dick on him that wouldn’t quit.
Out of me unworthy and unknown The vibrations of deathless music. —ANNE RUTLEDGE, BY EDGAR LEE MASTERS (1869-1950)