Well now, this must be love. You sharing the biscuits.” “They’re cookies. Biscuits are hot bread you smother in butter or gravy. Remember which side of the Atlantic you’re on, ace.
In time we hate that which we often fear. – William Shakespeare.
Admitting it would mean accepting some responsibility and blame, something she isn’t equipped to do. Others must be blamed.
Grief levels us. We go on, we do what’s necessary, but there’s a shadow on the heart.
Love doesn’t hang on conditions, but marriage bloody well hangs on compromise.
Love, when it’s real, doesn’t hang on conditions.
Bacon is never wrong.
Poison was poison whether it killed you emotionally, mentally, or physically.
Loving you changed everything for me. Being loved by you opened everything for me. Every day is more.
The dead aren’t the only victims.
Things should make sense, and half the time they don’t. Stuff that shouldn’t make sense, half the time does.
I married a bright, beaming ray of sunshine. And one who’s often armed.
Murder, at least, Eve understood.
Eve considered working in a karaoke bar versus getting eaten by sharks. The sharks came close to winning.
That click between them had the potential, she knew, to reverberate through the rest of her life.
I got a weakness for the sizzle, and the smarts. I don’t care what chromosomes somebody’s got, I just go for sizzle or smarts. Somebody’s got both? I’m a goner.
The legalized torture of socializing lined right up with premeditated murder when you added the requirement of fancy shoes.
Roarke sipped, smiled. “I believe Webster and I have a reasonable understanding. I can’t fault him for being attracted to my wife, as I’m very attracted to her myself. And he knows that if he puts his hands on what’s mine again, I’ll break every bone in his body into small, jagged pieces. It works well for us.
The seductive scent climbed into her sleeping brain like a lover up a flower-strewn trellis.
Someone had either kidnapped the sun or decided screw the ransom and killed it dead.
I know what it is to have the one you love, the only one, hurt. There’s a war in your belly, and your heart’s so heavy it doesn’t seem as if your body can hold it. This kind of fear doesn’t have a name. You can only wait with it. And let us help.