Priss Quotes & Sayings

Why are you such a manwhoring asshole?" I asked, my face inches from his.
"Why are you such a cockblocking priss?" he asked, and when I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought, the fucker kissed me.
Kissed me.
Placed his lips on mine and kissed me. Under the moon and the stars, with the sounds of the waves crashing and the crickets cricketing. — Alice Clayton

With Facebook and Twitter, everyone wants to publicize their innermost truths. — Chris Pine

Priss tried to open her door, but it still didn't budge. "Unlock it."
Instead he pulled her around to face him. He started to blast her, but something funny happening. Instead of reading her the riot act, he stared into her eyes, then down at her mouth. His entire demeanor changed. He looked just as tense, but now for different, hotter reasons.
He still stared intently at her mouth when Priss heard the lock click open. She glanced down and saw that Trace had reached back for the door, all without breaking that disturbing, electrifying visual contact with her.
She met his gaze again, and softened. Damn, but resisting Trace wouldn't be easy, not if he kept looking at her like that. "You're coming in, too?"
"Yes." Suddenly, almost violently, he turned away from her and left the car. Still a gentleman, he strode around to her side and opened her door. "Let's get this night over with."
Well. That sounded insulting. — Lori Foster

Silence reigned for half a minute, then she said, "Heck of a shiner you've got there."
Again his mouth quirked with a grin. "It'll probably look worse in a few more hours." One thing about Priss, she would always amuse him. "You took me by surprise so it was a direct shot."
Subdued, she hung her head. "Pure reaction to realizing I'd been drugged. Sorry."
Pure reaction? Meaning she was trained enough to react by instinct? Every hour he learned something new about her. If she was trained, that would be a good thing. Not that she could possibly have enough instruction to deflect the likes of Murray. "I'm fine, Priss. Don't worry about it."
"I won't. — Lori Foster

Presumably the car at the gate was Matt, the man who would work over Priss, head to toes. Even from a distance, Matt looked flamboyant with bleached-blond hair, dark shades and a purple convertible.
It was unreasonable and it made little sense, but because he'd be working on Priss, Trace disliked him on sight. — Lori Foster

She would always feel this wild girl was the truest of any of the people she had already been: adored daughter, bourgeois priss, rebel, runaway, dope-fiend San Francisco hippie; or all the people she would later be: mother, nurse, religious fanatic, prematurely old woman. Vivienne was a human onion, and when I came home at twenty eight years old on the day the monster died, I was afraid that the Baptist freak she had peeled down to was her true, acrid, tear-inducing core. — Lauren Groff

I wanted to slap Miss Priss. Slap her hard. But I didn't do it. It always been this way with me. I'll call another girl "bitch" before you blink, but I don't like to hit a woman. I guess it always felt like too much of a man to do it. Strange enough. Strength always seemed to rob the girl out of me, so I always take care to keep it hid. — Alice Randall

Trace asked Jackson, "Why the hell are you even here?"
Jackson looked far too uneasy for Trace's peace of mind. "I know you didn't want me here. I got the message loud and clear when you cut the call. Thing is, your little lady was damned insistent that I do something."
"Like get stunned and tied up?"
"You try planning with a hellcat breathing fire in your ear, making demands, prodding you-"
"Priss?"
"She's a terror. That name doesn't suit her at all. — Lori Foster

I got in the school band and the school choir. It all hit me like a ton of bricks, everything just came out. I played percussion for a while, and stayed after school forever just tinkering around with different things, the clarinets and the violins. — Quincy Jones

Sensing an ally, Priss took two steps toward her, but Trace pulled her up short by grabbing her arm.
"No, you don't," he told her, and no matter how Priss yanked and pulled, she couldn't free herself.
"Settle down, will you?" Trace said near her ear. "You're not helping things."
The woman's expression pinched even more.
Dare started toward her in a ground-eating stride. "Back inside, Molly," he said, sounding more cajoling than commanding. "I'll explain in private."
Like hell! Priss didn't want to lose whatever opportunities this might be, so she shouted, "Molly, help me. Trace drugged me to bring me here, and Dare manhandled me when I tried to escape." And before Trace could muzzle her, if indeed that was his intent, she added, "Some other guy stole my cat!"
The woman's mouth dropped open, then firmed shut again. With one raised hand, she halted Dare's progress. Dare dropped his head and groaned. — Lori Foster

Not everything that is more difficult is more meritorious. — Thomas Aquinas

In case I'm not around to save your luscious ass, I wanted to know about the garage."
She tipped her head, then said with a straight face devoid of humor, "You think my ass is luscious?"
He fought off another grin and shrugged. "Even for a man with hands my size, it's big enough for a handful. But it's not out of proportion with your equally notable rack."
That must not have been the sweet talk Priss wanted, given her darkening expression.
Both hands fisted. "Pig."
"You asked. — Lori Foster

You almost have to create situations in order to write about them, so I live in a constant state of self-imposed poverty. I don't want to live any other way. — Tom Waits

Don't bitch about the clothes that you try on. Blush all you want
"
"What makes you think I'll blush?"
"If you don't, we won't take them. — Lori Foster

That Miss Priss vibe she's got going on kind of does it for me. It makes me want to get her dirty. Really, really dirty. — Roni Loren

Stargirl began to improvise. She flung her arms to a make-believe crowd like a celebrity on parade. She waggled her fingers at the stars. She churned her fists like an egg-beater. Every action echoed down the line behind her. The three hops of the bunny became three struts of a vaudeville vamp. Then a penguin waddle. Then tippy-toed priss. Every new move brought new laughter from the line. — Jerry Spinelli

As soon as I learned what the smell of bacon was, I learned how to make it. — Rush Limbaugh

In great memories there lies the seed of growth. — Henrik Ibsen

For I was, as you have already guessed, a collaborator with Destiny, not one who put a pistol to its head and demanded particular treasures. The only thing for me to do was to keep on keeping on, to have faith in my whim, and remember that for me, as for the saints, illumination when it came would probably come from some unexpected source. — Robertson Davies

There are few things in this world more satisfying than having your son teach you how to play tennis, unless it is having a semi-truck run over your foot. — Erma Bombeck

Does anyone swim in there?"
"Everyone does." Without thinking, he added, "I can bring you back sometime when we're not so pressed for - " Trace caught himself before finishing that awesome thought. Pressed for time or not, the odds of him ever returning here with Priss were slim to none.
Gaze cynical, Priss looked at him over her shoulder. "Yeah, right. Maybe we'll do that." She turned to face him. "Sometime when we're not at odds, when we're not dealing with a madman who enjoys selling women, when you haven't just drugged me earlier in the day?"
Trace rubbed the back of his neck. "All of the above. — Lori Foster

Dare leaned in her window. "Be smart, Priss, and listen to Trace."
Priss scowled at him. "Why doesn't he have to listen to me?"
After a long stare-off, Dare peered past Priss to Trace and said, totally deadpan, "Listen to Priss. — Lori Foster

Trace started on his way again, this time taking the lead. "She's five-four and weighs less than one-twenty. Matt can handle himself."
"Says the man with the black eye. — Lori Foster

I'll kill him for you."
He sounded so sincere, and so accepting of her dysfunctional childhood, that a smile bloomed in Priss's heart. "Thank you." She drew him down to her for a longer kiss, one he gladly accepted. "That's sweet of you, but no."
His eyes narrowed. "Sweet? I offer to kill a man and you think it's sweet?"
"You wanted to kill him anyway. And so do I." The hard on his chest fascinated her, so she concentrated on that. "You've never come right out and said so, but I've known for a while that you're a good guy, Trace."
He gave her a cautious survey. "I'm not sure that accurately describes me. — Lori Foster

You don't like people who have money, do you? (Astrid) I'm not prejudiced against anyone, princess. I hate everyone equally. (Zarek) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

If someone is determined not to risk pain, then such a person must do without many things: [ ... ] - all that makes life alive, meaningful and significant. — M. Scott Peck

She eyed his gorgeous body, and raised a brow. "Doing a little flaunting of your own this morning, huh?"
"In deference to your delicate sensibilities, I pulled on jeans. Isn't that enough?"
Enough for what, her peace of mind? Ha. Being around Trace, especially with him like this, half-naked, sent her heart racing like a marathon runner's. "Maybe it would be," Priss admitted, "if you don't look so good."
The compliment sent his right eyebrow arching high.
"Oh, come on, Trace. You know what you look like." She visually devoured him again, more blatantly this time, and noticed a rise behind the fly of his jeans. For her?
Well-well-well. Flattering. — Lori Foster

When Trace simply held her hands out to her sides and looked at her, Priss asked, "Are we going to have sex now?"
His mouth twitched, and his gaze warmed, but he sounded dead serious when he said, "Yeah, I think we are. — Lori Foster

Matt opened the door. "We seriously need to finish the process with her hair."
"Two more minutes," Trace said.
Matt balked over the delay, but finally said, "Fine. Two minutes and no more." He ducked back inside.
"Oh, wow," Priss teased. "He really is terrified of you, isn't he?"
Trace smiled. "It was noble of you to try to shield him earlier."
"Yeah, well." She huffed out a breath and looked down at their clasped hands. "You were mean-mugging him, and I wasn't sure what you might do."
"And you figured whatever you did, you could stop me even if another man couldn't? — Lori Foster