I kept my head down and my breathing steady. No idea why. I totally felt like a sniper in the marines. Only I was pregnant. Other than that, and the fact that I couldn’t snipe if they’d paid me to, I embodied all that a sniper should be. Stealth. Grace. The patience of a panther on the prowl.
It was ingrained in my DNA. I loved Reyes Farrow. I craved him, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I’m not sure I can physically handle much more of this “getting out of bed” nonsense.
We watch movies while Uncle Reyes makes cockporn.
Just remember,” Reyes said, “anything you do to my daughter, I do to you.
His presence made the air crackle with electricity, mostly because of all the spontaneous ovulating going on when he walked in.
Thrilled that Reyes and I were outside, and taking that as her cue to get her freak on, Artemis ran around like a gerbil on meth, turning occasionally to make sure we were still watching. And God help us if we weren’t.
We were venturing onto uncomfortable ground. Compliments weren’t part of our MO. Passive-aggressive insults were. Mild threats. A little nagging here and there.
Hey, I could be your assistant! I’d be an Assistant Serial Killer Serial Killer. I’d be an Ass. Or do I need the Ks in there? Because that wouldn’t sound nearly as cool.
Anther spasm ripped through me and all I could wonder was why in the world had women been doing this for thousands of years? This was barbaric. This was torture. Never again. Never again as long as I lived would I have another baby, so Beep had better be pretty awesome.
I thought about throwing my grocery bags at him and making a run for it, but those avocados were expensive. Damn my love of guacamole.
How he could have such a reaction with me looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy astonished me. He was kinky. I’d take it.
I liked my Death Stars: gigantic, on the Dark Side, and powerful enough to destroy a planet.
Holy water may fend off demons, but spiders were completely unfazed by it.
I could fight a dozen hounds from hell, I could bring down the son of Satan with a word, but put me in the ring with a psychotic chick, and I go down in the first.
The FBI had finally wised up and put Charley Davidson on the task of bringing a killer to justice. Because that’s what Charley did. Brought killers to justice. She also found lost dogs, exposed cheating spouses, and tracked down the occasional skip. And she rarely referred to herself in the third person.
I don’t need Google. My wife knows everything.
She has been through hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into a fire and smiles. – E. CORONA Two.
The horror that riveted through me, the absolute terror with a taint of nausea, stunned me speechless for three, maybe four seconds. I put the mug down and made a cross with my fingers, screaming, “Death before decaf!” as Garrett poured himself a cup. The fool.
If he were ever to break up with me, I would so be that stalker ex-girlfriend who stole his underwear and hid in the hedges outside his bedroom window.