Hellacious Quotes & Sayings

He sobered as he gazed at her, then took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'm not normally affected like this. It's you. You're putting off some hellacious fuck-me vibes."
"Not enough, apparently," she muttered. — Larissa Ione

To me, there is no more conscientious umpire in the Major Leagues than Jim Joyce. He gives you a hellacious effort every time. — Tony La Russa

Something inside him shook so hard he was surprised Idess didn't jiggled right off him. This was the closest he'd ever been with to a female. Oh, he'd fucked them, and he'd even cared for one he'd foolishly thought could be his. But never had any female fallen asleep on him. It was a surprising intimacy that gave him some hellacious warm fuzzies in a situation he had no right to feel good about at all.
And yet, he stroked her hair and tried to be still, because crazily, this was the most amazing thing that ever happened to him. — Larissa Ione

And why did I think that the notorious and often fatal obstacles that the pioneers faced - mountain passes strewn with lava rock, hellacious winds and dust storms, rattlesnakes, and descents so steep that the wagons could only be lowered by ropes - would miraculously vanish from the trail for me? — Rinker Buck

Sweet, voluptuous & sexy
But I'm hellacious as they get
Don't test me!
My equilibrium is off
I want balance
I want my love rocked back
To its origin — Jasira Monique

What are they all doing there? Throwing a hellacious slumber party?" when no one said anything, I added, "Get it? Hellacious? Because they're all ... Forget it. — Rachel Hawkins

So the Casnoffs are at Hex Hall. Probably with however many demons they've managed to create. What are they doing there? Throwing a hellacious slumber party? — Rachel Hawkins

Absorbing and haunting! BOGEYMAN spills creepily across the page with Steve Jackson's hellacious verve and insight, reminding us there are few better explorers of the American berserk. — Ron Franscell

The name Mary Jo Quinn was written neatly in faded blue marker on the front of the scrapbook, its gray edges frayed with age and wear, as though it had been handled often. Such a memento was a strange thing to find in a used bookstore, especially when one considered its contents. I'd discovered the handmade tome buried on the bottom shelf on the back wall of a little musty-smelling shop in the tiny resort town of Copper Harbor. This picturesque community is the gateway to Isle Royale National Park, an island in the western quarter of Lake Superior that beckoned to hikers, kayakers and canoers. Copper Harbor is the northern-most bastion of civilization in Michigan on a crooked finger of land called the Keweenaw Peninsula. Its remote, pristine shoreline provided an excellent respite from a hellacious year for my best friend from high school and me on a late September weekend. — Nancy Barr