…you know how hard it is to be utterly, drop dead gorgeous," she said, twirling that shiny instrument of torture she liked to call her hair.
Paoletta turned to him with a dark face. Chase had never seen her look so foreboding. “You’d better watch out, Chase. He’s passed over to the evil side.
The wheel turns for all, caro Chase. It’s the karma effect,” Giulia cried, aping Ilenia. She could have never imagined that her words would become prophetic so soon.
Charlene wasn’t Culford’s top stylist just because she knew how to wield a can of AquaNet. Information flowed within the walls of her beauty shop faster than she could say high-speed Internet connection.
I’ve got a new friend, all right. But what a gamble friendship is! Charlotte is fierce, brutal, scheming, bloodthirsty—everything I don’t like. How can I learn to like her, even though she is pretty and, of course, clever?
He kissed her forehead and drifted into an uneasy sleep, listening to the soft snoring of the creature on his chest, one he loved slightly more than he had come to fear.
Now she sat in their dining hall, a book in her lap but unread while she stared blankly across the room.Bercelak’s kin kept themselves busy by sharpening weapons, reading, talking, or setting things on fire with small bursts of flame.
I feel nothing.” Crouching down beside her, Bercelak took a cloth from off the table and placed it over the wound. “Nothing? You feel no pain?” “Oh. I feel pain. Lots of pain. But nothing else.
You look good as a Pirate." Erin "Ahoy, matey," he said, laying her back against the grass. "Me cap'n's ship needs a port." V' Aidan "Me cap'n's port needs a ship." Erin
It was sadness, lostness, and the worst thing about it was the way it seemed like a default—like it was there all the time, and all her other expressions were just an array of masks she used to cover it up.
She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure and fixed: and though she knew the small number of his talents she appreciated his abstract value as a male.
Damn it! Are you so stupid you don't know what I'm going to do to you?" Her eyes bore into his without flinching. "Are you so stupid you haven't figured out yet that it doesn't matter?
He slid his hands to the back of her neck, fumbling for the necklace’s clasp. He undid it and held the chain of rubies up, red and gold in the flickering candlelight. “No shackles for us,” he said, “no matter how rich.
Goodbye," she told him, running her hand across his broad back one last time. "I love you. And I'll never, ever stop missing you.
We could get kinky and see how bats and rats make love, he suggested in a whisper, warm breath against her neck. You are a sick man, Jacques. Very, very sick.
If you’re mad that I kissed you, I won’t apologize for that.” “No, I’m mad you stopped.” Her face flushed. “I meant,” she tried to rephrase, “I’m mad you left the way you did.
She did not want to say it, because it made no practical sense, but in the end she went to Japan for the delicate sake cups, resting in her hand like a blossom; she went to Japan for loveliness.
weren’t you always distracted by expectation, as if every event announced a beloved? (Where can you find a place to keep her, with all the huge strange thoughts inside you going and coming and often staying all night.)…
Love is love," I told her, as I tell all of my patients who are ashamed to find themselves shattered by the death of a dog. "Loss is loss.
I bet she likes it hard, from behind, probably likes to get spanked too. I mean, just look at her, she has a serious come-fuck-me-face.
Her heart - like every heart, if only its fallen sides were cleared away - was an inexhaustible fountain of love: she loved everything she saw.
