Hold it right there. The only agreement we ever had was that you intended to make me as miserable as possible, and I intended to courageously make the best of an intolerable situation like valiant Southern women have always done.
She hated using airplane toilets. She was always afraid the plane would choose the exact moment she was most defenseless to crash, and she’d spend her final seconds of life spiraling toward earth with her bottom bare to the world.
Maybe some poor slob would take you to bed if you weren’t such a ballbuster.
He’d lapped at her ankles like a lovesick pup, and she’d been exactly what she was now, a woman born too beautiful and too rich to worry about a small thing like integrity.
He tunneled his dirty hands through her hair and kissed her breathless. Her neck, her eyes, the corners of her mouth. He kissed her lips as if his life depended on it. Kissed their future into her. All they could have and all they could be.
He gave Dancer one last pat. ‘You’re luckier than you know, pal. Living without a set of balls makes life a lot less complicated.
You’re the one who’s not supposed to be here.” She hoped he didn’t hear the squeak in her normally reliable voice. “How am I supposed to snoop if you don’t leave when you say you’re going to?
Because life’s too short to read depressing books.
Chip, I know you don’t understand this, but I’d take it as a personal favor if you’d stop trying to marry your mother off to my brothers.
You can’t do extraordinary things in the world if you’re spending time criticizing others because they don’t look or behave the way you think they should.
I finally figured out that not every crisis can be managed. As much as we want to keep ourselves safe, we can’t protect ourselves from everything. If we want to embrace life, we also have to embrace chaos.
She reached into the pocket of her dress and threw the small stack of bills at him. They fluttered to the ground like broken dreams. “I hope you choke on every penny.” “Pick that up.” She drew back her arm and slapped him as hard as she could.
Pride had kept her running when love had betrayed her.
If you were a sane woman, I would, of course, behave in a more rational fashion. Since you are a lunatic, however, this is the only way.
I write romance, women’s fiction, chicklit. I think it all fits very comfortably under the same umbrella. Basically, I write books for women – books about relationships, books that make you laugh and sometimes make you cry a little.
We’re all works in progress, honey. And believe me when I tell you that I’ve had to work harder than most.
When it’s your fourth marriage, you tend to lose faith in superstitions.
You’re the most important thing in the world to me. I know you don’t believe it, but I’m going to prove it to you.
Everybody’s afraid of something.
There’s no accounting for the mysteries of the human heart.