There are little pockets of old time in London, where things and places stay the same, like bubbles in amber,” she explained. “There’s a lot of time in London, and it has to go somewhere—it doesn’t all get used up at once.” “I may still...
Every once in a while she'll get worked up and cry like that. But that's ok. She's letting her feelings out. The scary thing is not being able to do that. Then your feelings build up and harden and die inside. That's when you're in big trouble.
I had just heard tales that the Valkyrie were large warriors, akin to Amazons.” “If you’re the sole survivor of an army attacked by us, are you going to say we had our asses handed to us by petite, nubile females, or by she-monsters who can ben...
She held up the pen and gave him a lazy grin. "It's a rose." He came close. "It's a pen." He tried to pluck it from her hand. "You are seriously lacking in imagination.
She says that each of us has his or her role in life, and if we know ourselves well enough to understand what that role is, we will be happy doing nothing but what we can do best.
And after his unparsable response, including a passage where he said he was 'blurring the boundaries between a thing and thought,' she said, 'Thank you, I get lost sometimes,' while laying two fingers on his folded arm.
You know,” she stammered, resenting the way her body reacted to his touch with fireworks and songbirds, “I kind of hate you sometimes.” “If that’s code for ‘I want to fuck you until I can’t walk straight’, then I kind of hate you, too...
Recently she had become intrigued by the admiring glances of other women. The admiration of her own sex existed on a higher and more intense plane than anything men could offer, like the romantic rivalries of sisters. Together, women formed a conspir...
You know you’re in love when you reach out to hold your woman’s hand, without remembering that her hands are full because you insisted she carry all the groceries out to the car.
My girlfriend and I are close. She’s like a brother to me. My brother is also dating her. We make love like mannequins and mashed potatoes, despite the fact that I’m single and an only child.
I called her Nebraska, because she was from Iowa. We made love like the Midwest. Well, not all of it. More like the Midwest minus Kansas, if you know what I mean.
She has a sly smile, and eyes that seem to see my essence as they explore my soul and implore my spirit to enter her. I look at her and I see love.
She was to my ego what Rasputin was to morality, whittling away at my self-image with menaces and put downs viewed as compliments until I realised I was too old, too fat, too tall, too dull, too everything to ever find love.
I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory - recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only...
When I near Charlie’s house, I notice she’s standing in the doorway with a spatula in her hand. Despite being on edge, I can’t stop myself from grinning. I feel like such a chick around her sometimes, like I’m seconds away from buying a tiara...
I shouldn't brag, but I'm one of the top experts in my field." She swallowed. "Of shark sex, you mean." "Well, that, too. Anything you want to know on the subject, Sharona... anything" --he pulled back a sexy half grin --- "I'd be happy to enlighten ...
His lips crashed against hers. If there had been air in her lungs, she wouldn't have known what to do with it. He kissed her fiercely, making her head spin wilder than a whirlpool, knocking every last puff of breath from her body.
Lizzie Bright Griffin, do you ever wish the world would just go ahead and swallow you whole?" "Sometimes I do," she said, and then smiled. "but sometimes I figure I should just go ahead and swallow it.
I could feel the hard part of Mom very strongly that time. It was like a stone in her that grew bigger every time my father lost his temper, right under her heart. Feeling the stone in her calmed me down. It told me that she would always be there for...
Carefully studying the delicate form of the doll, she was thinking how easy it was to wish for things as a child. Then nothing seemed impossible. Growing up, one realizes how many things one cannot wish for, the things that are forbidden, sinful. Ind...
If the Collective was an ants' nest then Jilly was not only the walls of the nest but also its army, whereas Jeanie was the ants which were scouts sent out to discover what the world was all about. Abbey wondered if that meant she was the one sent ou...
