She's Too Good For Me Quotes & Sayings

That's when Sam grabbed my hand. "I love this song!" She led me to the dance floor. And she started dancing. And I started dancing. It was a fast song, so I wasn't very good, but she didn't seem to mind. We were just dancing, and that was enough. The song ended, and then a slow one came on. She looked at me. I looked at her. Then, she took my hands and pulled me in to dance slow. I don't know how to dance slow very well either, but I do know how to sway. Her whisper smelled like cranberry juice and vodka. "I looked for you in the parking lot today." I hoped mine still smelled like toothpaste. "I was looking for you, too." Then, we were quiet for the rest of the song. She held me a little closer. I held her a little closer. And we kept dancing. It was the one time all day that I really wanted the clock to stop. And just be there for a long time. — Stephen Chbosky

Grandma smiled brightly. "How lovely! It seems your whore has arrived."
Jake groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was no way out of it. His grandmother was going to get him shot.
A&E women scorned, here I come.
"Excuse me?" Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn't good. Not good at all.
Grandma reached out and patted Aileen's arm. "Sweetheart, I'm the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?" She nudged Jake. "What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?" And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling. "W-H-O-R-E. — Rachel Van Dyken

My smile faded as we reached Ellsberg and I realized I would see Farah within minutes. Suddenly, I was terrified.
"We've been apart for a month," I said after Judd called Cooper to say we were nearly there. "While Farah made a great life for herself, I was letting myself starve to death in a shit motel. I'll ruin everything for her and she'll stop loving me."
"Angel, your sister needs you too."
"No, she doesn't," I said, panicking now. "She's got Cooper. She's got school and friends. I'm not good at anything. I'll mess everything up."
"Farah sees what I do and that's why she needs you. — Bijou Hunter

Nicole's door opened, and she stomped down the hall. "I have something to say," she said, giving him the Slitty Eyes of Death. "You're totally unfair, and if I run away, you shouldn't be surprised." "Don't make me put a computer chip in your ear," Liam answered. "It's not funny! I hate you." "Well, I love you, even if you did ruin my life by turning into a teenager," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Did you study for your test?" "Yes." "Good." He looked at his daughter - so much like Emma, way too pretty. Why weren't there convent schools anymore? Or chastity belts? "Want some supper? I saved your plate." She rolled her eyes with all the melodrama a teenager could muster. "Fine. I may as well become a fat pig since I can't ever go on a date." "That's my girl," he said and, grinning, got up to heat up her dinner. — Kristan Higgins

You can either hold me up by my ass or we can put pillows under my hips to raise them."
"Let's go for the pillows."
"You think I'm too heavy to lift?" she asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"No, I just want my hands free to play with your boobs."
"Good point. THIs position is supposed to help the man 'give the clit the attention it deserves'. That's me quoting the book, by the way."
"I like this book. It's nice and friendly and tells me to touch your clit. I appreciate that."
"So does my clit. Ready?"
Ben glanced down. HE was more than ready.
"God, yes."
"Alright," Beatriz said. "Let's do it. — Tiffany Reisz

I noticed then that the red-haired woman was buying the food you eat when you live alone: a box of cereal, a few apples, a plastic container of plain yogurt ... With an abrupt clarity, I saw how I had been launched into another category. I had been the red-haired woman; for a decade of my adult life, I had bought cereal and yogurt, I'd stood near couples and watched them nuzzle, and now I was part of such a couple. And I would not be launched back, I was certain. But I recognized her life, I knew it so well! I wanted to clasp her freckled hand, to say to her
surely we understood some shared code (or surely not, surely she'd have thought me preposterous)
It's good on the other side, but it's good on your side too. Enjoy it there. The loneliness is harder and the loneliness is the biggest part; but some things are easier. — Curtis Sittenfeld

She talks. People talk easily to me. They think a bald albino hunchback can't hide anything. My worst is all out in the open. It makes it necessary for people to tell you about themselves. They begin out of simple courtesy. Just being visible is my biggest confession, so they try to set me at ease by revealing our equality, by dragging out their apparent deformities. That's how it starts. But I am like a stranger on the bus and they get hooked on having a listener. They go too far because I am one listener who is in no position to judge or find fault. They stretch out their dampest secrets because a creature like me has no values or morals. If I am "good" (and they assume that I am), it's obviously for lack of opportunity to be otherwise. And I listen. I listen eagerly, warmly, because I care. They tell me everything eventually. — Katherine Dunn

I'm the first man you saw today," he pointed out, "so I'm officially your valentine."
She let out a harsh laugh. "Because of a silly superstition? I think not."
"Because I want to be," he said in a low voice. "And because you want me to be, too."
Her gaze would have skewered a stone. "Want a drunken debaucher fresh from some whore's bed as my valentine? Not if you were the last man on earth."
She slammed the door in his face.
His brothers laughed, but he ignored them. He couldn't blame her for being angry; he'd given her good reason to be so.
But it didn't change a thing. He'd be damned if he let her go now. One way or the other, Maria Butterfield was going to be his. One way or the other, she would share his bed. — Sabrina Jeffries

I shall expect your reply within a month. Surely that is time enough to ... weigh your other offers.'
She stared at him. Well. She'd underestimated Lord Prescott. Or perhaps, more accurately, she hadn't fully estimated him ...
'Thank you, Lord Prescott. It's helpful to know that your desire for me will expire by a particular date.'
'Much like the desirability of any woman. You of all people should be fully aware that a woman's bloom doesn't last forever. Nor does her ability to bear children.'
...
'Thank you for reminding me. It slipped my mind, temporarily.'
He nodded, smiling a little, acknowledging her little barb. 'Good day, Miss de Ballesteros. I am not a man without feeling, and I think I shall depart now, to recover from the decidedly ambivalent receipt of my proposal.'
She smiled a little at that.
'Good day, Lord Prescott. Perhaps I should retire, too, to preserve my bloom. — Julie Anne Long

His dark eyes were on the road ahead, thoughtful. "No. I was hoping to go back to Tucson and see if I could get this hot chick I know to go out with me. I hear she's in demand, though. She keeps putting me off each time I try to plan something romantic."
"Yeah, well, maybe if you come up with a good itinerary, you could lure her out."
"I was thinking dinner at Joe's."
I made a face. "If that's the case, maybe you'd better brace yourself for rejection."
"Red Pepper Bistro?"
"Okay. Now you're in the zone."
"Followed by a long massage in the sauna."
"That's pretty good too."
"And then indecent things in the sauna."
"I hope you mean you'll be doing the indecent things - because I more than did my share last night."
Kiyo glanced over at me with a mischievous grin. "Who says I'm talking about you? — Richelle Mead

He's terrified. Terrified of seeing you in his enemies' hands. And they know it, too - they know all they have to do to own him would be to get ahold of you." "You think I don't know that? But does he honestly expect me to spend the rest of my life in that manor, overseeing servants and wearing pretty clothes?" Lucien watched the ever-young forest. "Isn't that what all human women wish for? A handsome faerie lord to wed and shower them with riches for the rest of their lives?" I gripped the reins of my horse hard enough that she tossed her head. "Good to know you're still a prick, Lucien. — Sarah J. Maas

I don't want any money."
I put the wallet away.
She said: "What are you going to do about last night?"
"What should I do?"
"Kill that son of a bitch."
"And fry?"
"You're too smart to fry."
"Maybe," I said. "But, lady, I've been drawing the line at murder lately."
She lay against the pillow, watching me. Her skin was dead white and it made the black eyes look big. She wasn't young, but she was still good-looking. Her shoulders were round and firm. As far as I could tell she was naked under the sheet. I sat down on a rocking-chair. It creaked under my weight.
"But you want to get him, don't you?" she asked.
"I wouldn't mind."
"Neither would I," she said.
"He's pretty tough for a gal to tackle."
"He knocked out my teeth."
The way she said it, it sounded like a good reason for bumping off a man. Maybe it was, at that. A girl likes to hold on to her teeth. — Jonathan Latimer

It was Ebon's turn now, and he stepped forward and gave the pegasus' great clarion neigh
far more like a trumpet than a horse's neigh; hollow bones are wonderful for resonance
and swept his wings forward to touch, or almost touch, his alula-hands to her temples before he gave his own speech, in the half-humming, half-whuffling syllables the pegasi made when they spoke aloud, only she could understand what he was saying in silent speech. The words were just as stiff and silly (she was rather relieved to discover) as the ones she'd had to say.
He stopped whuffling and added,I was going to say, hee ho, ho hee, your wings are too short, you'll never catch me, but my dad said he was going to be listening and I'd better get it right. I guess since you can hear too it's good that I did. — Robin McKinley

You know for sure Jane would be annoyed she gave you all her money and you're not even enjoying it. Should have given it to me.' Myrna had shaken her head in mock bewilderment. 'I'd have known what to do with it. Boom, down to Jamaica, a nice Rasta man, a good book - '
'Wait a minute. You have a Rasta man and you're reading a book?'
'Oh, yes. Each has a purpose. For instance, a Rasta man is great when he's hard, but not a book.'
Clara had laughed. They shared a disdain for hard books. Not the content, but the cover. Hardcovers were simply too hard to hold, especially in bed.
'Unlike a Rasta man,' said Myrna. — Louise Penny

So you like her and you're scared. Now what?"
"Nothing. It just sucks that I finally found the girl worth having and she's too good for me. — Jamie McGuire

I don't know," Jason said with a shrug. "Maybe it's too late for me. Maybe my heart is already too far good."
With a smile she said softly, "It's never too late to be good. — Randall Arthur

They walked back to the chopping block, Claire carrying the crab in her hands. Helen paused. "You know, I'd like to ask you something a friend asked me once, if you don't think it's too personal."
"What is it?"
"What do you do that makes you happy? Just you?"
Claire looked at Helen for a moment and thought, the crab resting on the block beneath her hands.
"I was just wondering," Helen continued. "No one ever asked me when I was your age, and I think it's a good thing to think about."
Claire nodded. Then she took the cleaver and cut the crab into ten pieces. — Erica Bauermeister

Beck finished his call. Once he was paying attention again, she pointed downward with the pipe. Peering over the edge of the building, he blinked at the sight, then grinned.
"Good job. Remind me not to piss ya off. Ya might think of usin' that on me sometime."
"So tempting," she said. Except I'd aim for your knees. Your head's too hard. — Jana Oliver

Presently Arnaud folded the paper napkin, in the same careful way he always folded a table napkin, and said I ought to follow Chantal's suggestion and get a job in teaching a nursery school. (So Maman had mentioned that to Mme. Pons, too) I should teach until I had enough working time behind me to claim a pension. It would be good for me in my old age to have an income of my own. Anything could happen. He could be killed in a train crash or called up for a war. My father could easily be ruined in a lawsuit and die covered with debts. There were advantages to teaching, such as long holidays and reduced train fares.
"How long would it take?" I said. "Before I could stop teaching and get my pension."
"Thirty-five years," said Arnaud. "I'll ask my mother. She had no training, either, but she taught private classes. All you need is a decent background and some recommendations. — Mavis Gallant

Oh, Sam, this is Kate. Kate, meet Sam.' I wave my hand between the two of them, watching as Kate turns all angelic, putting her hand out to Sam, who grins before clasping it.

'Nice to meet you, Kate.' he says smoothly, maintaining his grin and running his free hand through his mousey waves.

'You too.' She arches a brow.

She's a brazen hussy! She's flirting with him. She giggles as Sam compliments her on her wild, red hair, their hands still linked. My phone declares a text. To escape the blatant flirting exchange going on in front of me, I pick it up and open the message with one eye closed.

There better be a GOOD f**king reason for you standing me up. Someone had better be dying. I'm going out of my f**king mind, lady. NO KISS — Jodi Ellen Malpas

Would you like to dance?" She smiled at him. "Look at the gym floor, Gabe. This is a father-daughter dance." "Yeah. Well, so what? Consider this my first dance with my daughter." At that, Nic went all gooey and some of her lingering doubts eased. Gabe Callahan was a good man. She tilted her head at him and asked, "What if she's a he?" "Well, I grew up going to dance halls in Texas, and believe me, it's never too early for a guy to learn to two-step." Gabe — Emily March

Still, I insisted that I was as entitled to a Survivor's Syndrome as my father, so she asked me two questions. The first one was this: "Do you believe sometimes that you are a good person in a world where almost all of the other good people are dead?"
"No," I said.
"Do you sometimes believe that you must be wicked, since all the good people are dead, and that the only way to clear your name is to be dead, too?"
"No," I said.
"You may be entitled to the Survivor's Syndrome, but you didn't get it," she said. "Would you like to try for tuberculosis instead? — Kurt Vonnegut

Who's your friend?"
I practically leaped into the air and spun around to see that Kate had walked up behind me. I slapped the back of my hand against Marcus's chest, hard enough to force him back a step. "This is Marcus. Ignore him. He's a bad seed."
As she checked him out, that growing smile of hers told me she was up to no good. She held out a hand for him to take. "Hi. I'm Kate. I'm a bad seed, too. — Courtney Allison Moulton

Don't waste your time trying to look all bad at me. See, I know you, man," Howard said. "School Bus Sam. Mr. Fireman. You go all heroic, but then you disappear. Don't you? It kind of comes and goes with you. Everyone last night is all, 'Where's Sam? Where's Sam?' And I had to say, 'Well, kids, Sam is off with Astrid the Genius because Sam can't be hanging out with regular people like us. Sam has to go off with his hot blond girlfriend.'"
"She's not my girlfriend," Sam said, and instantly regretted it.
Howard laughed, delighted to have provoked him. "See, Sam, you always got to be in your own little world, too good for everyone, while me and Captain Orc and our boys here, we're always going to be around. You step away, and we step up. — Michael Grant

Aren't you still worried Gran will cut me off, and you'll be saddled with a spoiled wife and not enough money to please her?"
"To hell with your grandmother, too. For that matter, to hell with the money." He tossed the chair aside as if it were so much kindling; it clattered across the floor. "It's you I want."
"Jackson!" she cried as he approached her. "Someone might hear you!"
"Good." Catching her about the waist, he backed her toward the bed. "Then you'll be well and truly compromised, and there will be no more question of our marrying."
While she was still thrilling to the masterful way he'd decided to take charge, he tumbled her onto the bed, following her down to cover her body with his.
As she gaped at him, shocked to see her cautious love behave so delightfully incautious, he murmured, "Or better yet, they can find us here together in the morning and march us right to the church."
Then he took her mouth with his. — Sabrina Jeffries

Hello?" I say, sounding upbeat, and like I'm happy to be on the phone. I decide to pretend it's my imaginary girlfriend. Fuck pretending to be nice.
"Yo, " B. J. Says.
"What's going on, honey?" I say, trying to glance at Courtney out of the corner of my eye without her noticing that that's what I'm doing. She's going through her bag, probably looking for more makeup, so she can make herself look good for Lloyd.
"Honey?" B. J. Asks. "Jordy, I had no idea you felt that way about me. I have to warn you, though, I happen to be in a very committed relationship. "
"Yeah, I miss you, too. — Lauren Barnholdt

And this is the most gorgeous ass in the world," he growled. "I almost started collecting panties for you, but somehow that just struck me as obsessive, don't you think?"
She shook her head.
"Good, then you won't be surprised when I pull out the few pairs I collected for you, no more than a few dozen, and ask you to wear them for me. Silk and satin and lace so delicate it's no more than a whisper against your flesh. I'll come just thinking of you wearing those panties beneath those mission pants you wear. They have ribbons too. And little bows. And some don't have a crotch. I could slip right inside you, and not have to worry about tearing them from you first. — Lora Leigh

Speaking of which," he murmured.
Hyacinth's mouth fell open as he dropped down to one
knee. "What are you doing?" she squeaked, frantically
looking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peeking
out at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.
"Someone will see," she whispered.
He seemed unconcerned. "People will say we're in
love."
"I - " Good heavens, but how did a woman argue
against that?
"Hyacinth Bridgerton," he said, taking her hand in his,
"will you marry me?"
She blinked in confusion. "I already said I would."
"Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.
They were mostly the right reasons, but not all."
"I - I - " She was stumbling on the words, choking on
the emotion.
He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear and
blue in the dim light of the streetlamps. "I am asking you
to marry me because I love you," he said — Julia Quinn

She gathered a circle of children around her and commenced singing 'For Those Who Peril on the Sea' over their little heads. But no, 'safety from storms' wasn't enough for her. God had to keep them from being blown up too. She set about ordering the poor things to pray for their parents every night- who knew what the German soldiers might do to them? Then she said to be especially good little boys and girls so Mama and Daddy could look down on them from heaven and BE PROUD OF THEM ... she had those children crying and sobbing fit to die.
I was too shocked to move, but no, not Elizabeth. No, quick as an adder's tongue, she had ahold of Adelaide's arm and told her to SHUT UP.
'Let me go!' Adelaide cried. 'I am speaking the Word of God!'
Elizabeth, she got a look on her that would turn the devil to stone, and then she slapped Adelaide right across the face! — Mary Ann Shaffer

-Such dark thoughts for the sake of a corner table. My inner Jiminy Cricket spoke up. Oh, all right, I said. May the world's small things fill her with delight.
-Good, good, spoke the cricket.
-and may she purchase a lottery ticket and possess the winning number,
-Unnecessary, but fine.
-And may she order a thousand such bags, each one more splendid than the last, delivered and dumped by FedEx, and may she be trapped by a storeroom's worth, without food, water, or cell phone.
-I'm leaving, said my conscience.
-Me too, I said, and I went back out on the street. — Patti Smith

You have a mouth made for kissing," he murmured, angling her to face him. "Did you know that?"
She shook her head.
"So soft and generous." Leaning in, he tipped her chin with the heel of his hand. "Sweet."
"No man's ever called me sweet."
"Has any other man kissed you?"
Again, she gave a little shake of the head.
"Well, then. That's why." He brushed his lips over hers, just lightly, sending pure sensation frizzing through her veins. He hummed with satisfaction. "You taste of ripe plums."
She couldn't help it. She laughed. "Now that's just absurd."
"Why?"
"Because it's too early in the year for ripe plums."
His husky chuckle shook them both. "You're entirely too logical for your own good. A thorough kissing can mend that."
"I don't want mending."
"Perhaps not. But I think you do want kissing." He nuzzled the curve of her cheek, and his voice dropped to a sensual whisper. "Don't you?"
She did. Oh, she did. — Tessa Dare

Father, R.I.P., Sums Me Up at Twenty-Three
She has no head for politics,
craves good jewelry, trusts too readily,
marries too early. Then
one by one she sends away her friends
and stands apart, smug sapphire,
her answer to everything a slender
zero, a silent shrug
and every day
still hears me say she'll never be pretty.
Instead she reads novels, instead her belt
matches her shoes. She is master
of the condolence letter, and knows
how to please a man with her mouth:
Good. Nose too large, eyes too closely set,
hair not glorious blonde, not her mother's red,
nor the glossy black her younger sister has,
the little raven I loved best. — Deborah Garrison

Alex cornered her right before she was going to make an appointment at the nurse's station to see him. "Bree, I'm going to be referring you to Carlo from now on," Alex informed her. "I think in light of recent events it would be a conflict of interest for me to continue to be your doctor." "Is that right?" Bree asked leaning her elbow on the counter and raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I wouldn't feel comfortable about it considering what you did to Carrie." "Aw, that's nice," Bree smiled sarcastically, staring up at his smug self-righteous face. "Nice to know this place has such moral upstanding doctors." "Yes, so I will be referring you to him from now on," Alex said, clenching his jaw. "Great," Bree said, fighting not to roll her eyes. "Have a good afternoon," he said curtly and turned to walk away. Don't do it. Don't do it, Bree. The evil Bree won though. "You too, Dr. Home Wrecker." Alex's step faltered but he didn't turn around. — E. Jamie

Christ, he was a cipher.
For the first time, he worried if he could be worthy enough for Mariketa. Did he even deserve her? Yes, she was a witch, but she was also stunningly beautiful and brave and clever.
"I like football, too," he finally said.
"You've already told me, so that doesn't count."
"I love the color of your eyes."
She tucked a curl behind her pointed ear, sliding him the bewitching smile that made his heart punch the insides of his chest. "What's your favorite place to visit?"
He absently answered, "Wherever you are."
"Bowen, five things about you can't all be about me."
But you're the only good thing that I've got. "Why no'? — Kresley Cole

Can't you clerk in a store?'
'No.'
'Can't you be a waitress?'
'Would you be anything like you're suggesting to me? Then why, if you're too good, is it all right for me?'
'It's not a question of superiority, Dora. Come on, be a telephone operator and get paid while you work. Or how about ushering in a theater? I have it. You'll get a job in a flower shop. They always do.'
He looked at her so sharply that she knew she must make some answer, and she began to speak as if her words came from another mind, another mouth. 'I am beyond this plane of animal existence. I'm made of different stuff. I lived all this ages ago and I'm through with it for good. — Margery Latimer

Without me, she can live a long, full life. She can be happy. I must leave her, in fact, for her own good.'
I didn't much like the way Francis put that. Parents are always trying to make you do things for your own good. Not boyfriends. With boyfriends, the relationship is supposed to be equal. They're supposed to let you make your own decisions.
But I couldn't tell Cathy about Francis's undead love-weasel ways. Anyway, this was more proof that Francis really was too old for. It truly was for her own good. Agreeing with Francis gave me a stomachache, so I sat there and made a face. — Justine Larbalestier

Finally, I must acknowledge the role my lovely wife Annie, to whom I have dedicated the book, played in its production. I had the good luck to have married a woman who is incredibly smart and whose sound intuitions are untainted by philosophy. The price she pays for this is that she is subjected to calls interrupting her own work in which I ask her things like: 'What's an example of a gesture that gives an instruction?' or 'Is the following sentence intuitively true: 'Jeff owns more surfboards than Napoleon'?' She handles this with remarkable grace and humor, while providing excellent answers. In addition, while I was working on the book, she bent over backwards to do things for me that would allow me more time to write at crucial junctures. This even before we were married! And finally, the love and support she gave me while I worked on this book were of incalculable value to me. My friends say she is too good for me. They're right — Anonymous

Good-bye, Mrs Bartholemew," said tom, shaking hands with stiff politeness; "and thank you very much for having me."
"I shall look forward to our meeting again," said Mrs Bartholemew, equally primly.
Tom went slowly down the attic stairs. Then, at the bottom, he hesitated: he turned impulsively and ran up again - two at a time - to where Hatty Bartholemew still stood ...
Afterwards, Aunt Gwen tried to describe to her husband that second parting between them. "He ran up to her, and they hugged each other as if they had known each other for years and years, instead of only having met for the first time this morning. There was something else, too, Alan, although I know you'll say it sounds even more absurd ... Of course, Mrs Bartholemew's such a shrunken little old woman, she's hardly bigger than Tom; anyway: but, you know, he put his arms right round her and he hugged her good-bye as if she were a little girl. — Philippa Pearce

Lady Kingsley, when you read this, do attempt to keep an open mind."

"I will if you will," she retorted hotly.

To her surprise, he chuckled. "I daresay neither of us will. It's a pity, too, because if we could ever see our way clear to agreeing on a matter, we might accomplish a great deal of good in this world."

It infuriated her that he could pretend to care even one whit for these boys. "Now you've confused me. I'd assumed that your reason for serving on so many charitable boards was to further your political aims. Yet all the time you were merely hoping to accomplish some 'good in this world.' How very astonishing."

Just that quickly, his amusement vanished. "While I don't pretend to be as morally superior as you and your late husband, my intentions are good, no matter what you make of them. It may shock you to learn that those of us with character flaws sometimes do as much good as those of you without. — Sabrina Jeffries

You keep getting more wonderful," I whispered. "Baby, it's not yet seven, got my girl who hates to get up early in my arm, a coffee from The Shack she got for me, and I'm gonna get me some in about two hours. I'm thinkin' you keep gettin' more wonderful too." "Good answer," I replied. — Kristen Ashley

You know what she's made of."
"Yeah, good stock, good breeding, a hard head and a hunger to win." She flashed him a smile as they approached the kitchen door. "I've been told that describes me. I'm half Irish, Brian, I was born stubborn."
"No arguing with that. A person might make the world a calmer place for others by being passive, but you don't get very far in it yourself, do you?"
"Look at that. We have a foundation of agreement. Now tell me you like spaghetti and meatballs."
"It happens to be a favorite of mine."
"That's handy. Mine, too. And I heard a rumor that's what's for dinner." She reached for the doorknob, then caught him off guard by brushing a light kiss over his lips. "And since we'll be joining my parents, it would probably be best if you didn't imagine me naked for the next couple of hours."
She sailed in ahead of him, leaving Brian helplessly and utterly aroused. — Nora Roberts

She was the only one who argued with Grace. 'He's not a good choice for you,' she insisted. 'He respects you too much.'
'Respect is good,' Grace said, thinking of how Colin slighted her letters. 'I want respect.'
'It's not enough.'
'He loves me!'
Not the right way.'
Finally Grace turned on her sister in a rage. 'Don't you see, Lily? Must you make me say this aloud? No one will ever love me in the /right/ way, not in that feverish way that men fall in love with you. I'm not that sort of woman!'
Lily cried, and Grace ended up crying, too. — Eloisa James

She's such a bitch," Tina says, which I find a little contradictory, but overall quite true. "She's got to be in charge of everything."
I sit next to her. "Well, I guess. But in business, that's leadership."
Tina stares at me for a second. "I can't believe you consider that a positive trait. How about her inability to accept other points of view? Is it good leadership to be narrow, too?"
"Focus," I say. "They call that focus."
Tina stares at me. "Her paranoia?"
"Business savvy."
"Compulsive need to have everything just how she wants it?"
"Organizational skills."
"Aggressiveness?"
"Aggressiveness," I say, "is already a good thing."
"Jesus Christ," Tina says, her eyebrow ring glinting in the morning sun. "Sometimes I worry about this country. — Max Barry

Tiger chuckled. "Let me guess. Seared meat? Yeah, most humans get grossed out by that. You'll enjoy pizza. It's really good. She'll love it too. I think all humans eat it the way we do meat. It must be a nutritional requirement or something for them." He shrugged. "Everything on it is cut up into bit-sized slices to help them because of the flat teeth they have." Valiant followed him. "If we have a baby this must be good to feed them." "Yeah. They probably just cut the slices smaller for their little mouths." "I must try this food. Tammy will be pleased I am preparing for fatherhood." Tiger patted his back. "You're a good mate, my man." "I will try to be." Valiant missed Tammy. He couldn't wait to return home to marry her and remove her underwear. Not in that order though. — Laurann Dohner

A rap on my window. I cringed. With a smirk, Luna pushed the curtains aside. She waved and opened the window. "Hey, Tristan."
"Hey, Luna. What's up?"
"Just blackmailing my sister."
"Good for you."
"You coming in?"
"Ah, Ayden, are we?"
Ayden eased off the bed. Finally. "Nope. Gotta go." He started out the window.
"You giving us a ride?" Luna asked.
Ayden paused, straddling the sill. "You blackmailing me too?"
Luna lifted a shoulder. "Nah, just asking."
"In that case, I'll pick you up in an hour. Car preference?"
"Surprise me."
"Will do." He gave me a wink and disappeared. — A&E Kirk

I had a counter impulse to walk out of the bar and away from the Hacienda and her. She was trouble looking for somebody to happen to. And succeeding. I raised my drink and said with false cheer: 'Luck to the gold drinkers.' She sipped at hers.'You didn't say what kind of luck, good or bad. Not that it matters, people don't get their wishes. Wishing-wells are to drown in. But I mustn't go on like that. I'm always pitying myself, and that's neurotic.' She made a visible effort, and focused her attention on me: 'Speaking of luck, you don't as if you had too much luck in your life. Some of the kicks you say you go for were kicks in the head, I bet'. — Ross Macdonald

Promise me, man. If anything ever happens to me, promise me you'll take care of
Angelina. She's something special, Micah. Heart way too big for her own good. I worry
because she doesn't see everyone for who they are. She's too busy looking for the good.
I've tried to get her to adopt some cynicism, but the truth of the matter is, she wouldn't be
the same girl if she did. — Maya Banks

He's a fine young man, and one who loves you without restrictions. Finding a mate, a true one, is a rare and precious thing." And the heart of the heart, she thought. Yes, he'd found that, too. "I don't even know how it happened, but even when he pisses me off, I'm grateful every day it did." "The best possible description for a good marriage. — J.D. Robb

I don't understand. She's always been so friendly toward me."
"Yes, so long as your work consisted of updating calendars and photocopying golf club bylaws."
"But there was no danger of my taking her place!"
"She was never afraid of that."
"Then why denounce me? Why would it upset her if I went to work for you?"
"Miss Mori struggled for years to get the job she has now. She probably found it unbearable for you to get that sort of promotion after being with the company only ten weeks."
"I can't believe it. That's just so ... mean."
"All I can say is that she suffered greatly during the first few years she was here."
"So she wants me to suffer the same fate? It's too pathetic. I must talk to her."
"Do you really think that's a good idea?"
"Of course. How else are we going to work things out if we don't talk?"
"You just talked to Mister Omochi. Does it strike you that things have been worked out? — Amelie Nothomb

McDonald's almost hired me one time, and I only applied for the job to meet younger girls. Black girls, Hispanic, white, and Chinese girls, it says right on the job application how McDonald's hires different races and ethnic backgrounds. It's girls, girls, girls, buffet-style. Also on the application McDonald's says if you have any of the following diseases: Hepatitis A, Salmonella, Shigella, Staphylococcus, Giardia, or Campylobacter, then you may not work there. This is more of a guarantee than you get meeting girls on the street. You can't be too careful. Al least at McDonald's she's gone on the record saying she's clean. Plus, there's a very good chance she's going to be young. Pimple young. Giggling young. Silly young and as stupid as me. — Chuck Palahniuk

She feels so good and welcoming, like home. Reluctantly, I relinquish her, and Bob gives me an awkward one-armed hug. He seems unsteady on his feet, and I remember that he's hurt his leg. "Welcome back, Ana. Why you cryin'?" he asks. "Aw, Bob, I'm just pleased to see you, too." I stare up into his handsome square-jawed face and his twinkling blue eyes that gaze at me fondly. I like this husband, Mom. You can keep him. He takes my backpack. "Jeez, Ana, what have you got in here?" That would be the Mac, and they both put their arms around me as we head for the parking lot. I always forget how unbearably hot it is in Savannah. Leaving the cool air-conditioned confines of the arrival terminal, we step into the Georgia heat like we're wearing it. Whoa! It saps everything. I have to struggle out of Mom and Bob's embrace so — E.L. James

So, I know what the ladies like," Dad said. "I used to be a bad boy myself."

Kami raised her eyebrows. "Oh, you were?"

"I won't go into it, because I know you honor and respect me as your parent, and I don't want to spoil your illusions," said Dad. "Also I don't want to give you any ideas. Let's just say there were fires."

"Dad! You set fires?"

"Fires happened," said Dad. "And then there was your mother. She had no time for any of that. She didn't try to reform me. She wasn't allured by my wiles."

"You had wiles?" Kami inquired, with even more disbelief than she'd shown regarding the fires.

"Damn good wiles," said Dad. "And I was smoother than that sullen blond kid too. Way smoother." There was a glint in his eye.

"You were saying about Mum?" Kami asked hastily. — Sarah Rees Brennan

Dany "Bring me that book I was reading last night." She wanted to lose herself in the words, in other times and other places. The fat leather-bound volume was full of songs and stories from the Seven Kingdoms. Children's stories, if truth be told; too simple and fanciful to be true history. All the heroes were tall and handsome, and you could tell the traitors by their shifty eyes. Yet she loved reading them all the same. Last night she had been reading of the three princesses in the red tower, locked away by the king for the crime of being beautiful.
When her handmaiden brought the book, dany had no trouble finding the page where she had left off, but is was no good. She found herself reading the same passage half a dozen times. "Ser Jorah gave me this book as a bride's gift, the day I we'd Khal Drogo" She played at at being a queen, yet sometimes she felt like a scared little girl. — George R R Martin

Here's the thing, Judy. Here's the thing we have to look at and accept. For you, I was a chapter - a good chapter, maybe, or even your favorite chapter, but still, just a chapter - and for me, you were the book." "No, no, Willy, what you're saying about me - that's just not true," she said, but she didn't say what she thought was the truer, darker truth: that, to use his metaphor, he had been most of the book, but she had been too careless or self-absorbed or oblivious to know it, and it was too late to change the ending. — Tom McNeal

She said she loved this place. This is the last she'll see of it. I'll watch for one tear, one human tear. Not that blank hating moonstruck face. I'll listen ... If she says good-bye perhaps adieu. Adieu
like those old-time songs she sang. Always adieu (and all the songs say it). If she too says it, or weeps, I'll take her in my arms, my lunatic. She's mad but mine, mine. What will I care for gods or devils or for Fate itself. If she smiles or weeps or both. For me.
Antoinetta
I can be gentle too. Hide your face. Hide yourself but in my arms. You'll soon see how gentle. My lunatic. My mad girl. — Jean Rhys

He watched her drink the soup. "You're getting bored with me, aren't you?"
She smiled slyly. "No. I have never found you boring, Mirar. In fact, I've always found you a little too interesting for my own good."
He chuckled. So. There it was. The invitation. He had noted the way she sometimes looked at him. Thoughtful. Curious. Admiring. The spark of attraction was still there for her. Was it for him?
He thought back to other times circumstances had brought them to each other's beds and felt an old but familiar interest flare. Yes, he thought. It's still there. — Trudi Canavan

I wanted to say something to you, before everything changes again. Because I know this is going to change everything. A good change. An abso mag change, but still. Dallas, you're the best person I know."
"Are you sure you haven't had the drugs already?"
Mavis gave a watery laugh. "I mean it. Leonardo, he's the sweetest, but you're the best. You do what's right, you do what matters, whatever it takes. Your the first of my family, and you really started me on the road. I wouldn't be here, wouldn't be doing this except for you."
"I think Leonardo had more to do with it"
Mavis grinned, rubbed her belly. "Yeah, he had the fun part. I love you. We love you." She too Eve's hand, laid it on her belly. "I wanted to tell you"
"Mavis, if I didn't love you, I'd be a thousand miles from this room. — J.D. Robb

There was a saying that the strength of a man's steel was only known under the hammer of circumstance. If anyone had asked me a few hours ago, I would have said that nearly five years of boyhood had hammered me into constant fear and excessive caution. But now I realised it had done the opposite. It had shaped me into someone who stepped forwards and reached for what she wanted. It was too late for me to tuck my hands behind my back and wait like a good woman. — Alison Goodman

Don't you recognize me, Mary? It's your good friend Allie the Outcast - although it looks like you're the one who's the out-cast now." Then Allie realized something with far too much glee. "Now that you're here - alive and all - there's something I've wanted to do for a very long time."
Then Allie reached back, curled her fleshie's right hand into a fist, and swung it toward Mary with all her might.
This was one strong fleshie!
The punch connected with Mary's eye so hard, that Mary's entire body spun around, and she collapsed into a leopard chair. Allie's knuckles hurt, but it was a good kind of pain.
"My eye!" wailed Mary. "Oh! My eye. — Neal Shusterman

She had exposed her hands while she tutored me. Shit. I'd forgotten about her scars. Hell, she'd forgotten about her scars-until now. I wanted that moment back, and to see her smile again. "Then who did? I't's been a while since i've been in a fight. My rep will be ruin if i'm good for too long."
She fought it, but i won. The smile returned for a brief dazling moment. — Katie McGarry

When he[Thresh] shouts, I jump, never having heard him speak above a mutter. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"
Clove is scrambling backwards on all fours, like a frantic insect, too shocked to even call for Cato. "No! No, it wasn't me!"
"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" Another thought brings a fresh wave of rage to his features. "You cut her up like you were about to do to this girl here?"
"No! No, I-" Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh's hand and loses it. "Cato!" she screeches. "Cato!"
"Clove!" I hear Cato's answer, but he's too far away, I can tell that much, to do her any good. What was he doing? Trying to get Foxface or Peeta? Or had he been lying in wait for Thresh and just badly misjudged his location?
Thresh brings the rock down hard against Clove's temple. It's not bleeding, but I can see the dent in her skull and I know that she's a goner. — Suzanne Collins

Tate practically raised you from what I hear. You love him, don't you?"
Her face closed up. "For all the good it will ever do me, yes," she said softly.
"He won't have the excuse of pure Lakota blood much longer," he advised.
"I'm not holding out for miracles anymore," she vowed. "I'm going to stop wanting what I can never have. From now on, I'll take what I can get from life and be satisfied with it. Tate will have to find his own way."
"That's sour grapes," he observed.
"You bet it is. What do you want me to do to help?"
"It's dangerous," he pointed out, hesitating as he considered her youth. "I don't know ... "
"I'm a card-carrying archeologist," she reminded him. "Haven't you ever watched an Indiana Jones movies? We're all like that," she told him with a wicked grin. "Mild-mannered on the outside and veritable world-tamers inside. I can get a whip and a fedora, too, if you like," she added. — Diana Palmer

What Vera doesn't know is: I'd kill to be a pickle on her Big Mac - ground to relish between her perfect white teeth.
I'd kill to be a bug she squishes with her holey Army-issue combat boot.
But she's too good for me. She always was. — A.S. King

Got a job for you, Seven."
"Yeah?"
"I need you to find someone."
"Who?"
"A woman," I say. "About five and a half feet tall. Brown hair. Brown eyes."
"That describes half the women in New York."
"Yeah, well, the one I'm looking for is twenty-one or so," I say. "She's good-looking, kind of curvy for being so petite... got a red 'S' tattooed on her wrist..."
He stares at me, like he expects more information. "What else?"
I shrug, glancing at the high heels, flipping them over to look at the red soles. "She wears a size thirty-nine shoe."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Shouldn't be too hard," he says, blinking a few times as he looks at the ground. "Only a couple million people in the city."
"That's the spirit," I say, slapping him on the back. — J.M. Darhower

I'm too old for change," she explained. "I'm too old to pursue good health and new relationships. The past breathes for me. It is my life. You are young, Dr. Scarpetta. Someday you will see what it is like to look back. You will find it inescapable. You will find your personal history drawing you back into familiar rooms where, ironically, events occurred that set into motion your eventual estrangement from life. You will find the hard furniture of heartbreak more comfortable and the people who failed you friendlier with time. You will find yourself running back into the arms of the pain you once ran away from. It is easier. That's all I can say. It is easier." "Do — Patricia Cornwell

Since Mom wasn't exactly the most useful person in the world, one lesson I learned at an early age was how to get things done, and this was a source of both amazement and concern for Mom, who considered my behavior unladylike but also counted on me. "I never knew a girl to have such gumption," she'd say. "But I'm not too sure it's a good thing. — Jeannette Walls

Whenever I visit Korea she [Kang] buys me lunch and takes me to a gallery. As if all this wasn't enough, she has incredible respect for translation as a creative, artistic practice - she insists that each English version is 'our book', offered to share her fees with me when she found out I wasn't getting paid for translating her publicity stuff, always asks the editor to credit me, and does so herself whenever she's interviewed. Too good to be true. — Deborah Smith

I love you too, and I don't want anybody else either." Cupping his cheek, she added, "You're enough for me."
That seemed to make sense to Griffin, and he finally smiled like he was happy.
"You're enough for me too."
Grabbing his hand, Anna started backing toward her room. "Good, then come be enough for me right now. I'm horny as hell."
Griffin rushed up to her, grabbing her backside. "God, me too," he murmured
before their mouths met. — S.C. Stephens

It's all a lie. I said to myself. Romance. This notion that some guy is going to swoop and fall madly in love with me and change my life and make everything perfect. It's one big, horrible lie and I bought it. Hook, line, and a ten thousand-pound sinker. Or I guess I should say it's a lie for a girl like me. For Skye, that's another story. The first time Dakota kissed me, down at the hot tub, I remember thinking, this is too good to be true. But if something feels too good to be true, maybe it's not true. Maybe the truth is that Skye deserves him. She'll always be the winner. And I, pathetically, will always be me. — Carolyn Mackler

Because if you take something you're a thief.' She nursed the silence a moment. Downed the balance of her drink and silently signaled for another. 'Sounds simple, but you'd be amazed how many people don't get it. They steal but they call themselves honest. They cheat on their spouses and lovers but they think they're good people. They lie but they'd never call themselves liars. Well, let me tell you something, Todd ... She pointed toward him with her right hand, with her lit cigarette. He leaned away slightly. She looked into the mirror of his eyes and saw herself going too far. 'You are what you do. That's what I'm trying to tell you. What we do defines us. However we behave, conduct our lives ... that's real. The rest is just a story for publication. — Catherine Ryan Hyde

She cleared her throat but still her voice came out much too huskily. "Are you all right? I didn't see you there. I didn't mean to kick you."
He was looking at her, examining her, and he smiled crookedly. "You look good in the morning, Al."
Her hair was stringy, her eyes were tired and puffy, and she had on absolutely no makeup. "I look like hell."
"Whoa, that's pretty harsh language for you."
"You look like hell, too."
"Hell is an improvement for me," he told her. "In fact, I consider it a compliment. See, shit's my usual look. On really bad days, I look like total shit. So, yeah, hell is a big step up for me." His smile made his eyes crinkle. "So, thank you very much."
Alessandra couldn't keep from smiling back. — Suzanne Brockmann

She wanted to take a look at you, too. She heard you were a hunk."
"Is that so?" Amused, Brian shifted. "Did you tell her that?"
"I certainly did not. I have more respect for you than to speak of you in such a sexist way."
"Respect's a good thing." He yanked her into the box, crushing his mouth to hers before she could laugh. "But I'm banking on passion just at the moment. Have you passion for me, Keeley?" he murmured against her mouth. — Nora Roberts

Scuse me, my lady," the boy said, "but we thought ye'd want ter know that tha' new stray, the black wot's been hangin' 'bout, looks like she's ready ter have her kittens."
"Abigail?"
"Aye, if tha's wot yer callin' her. She's settled in ter a corner of tha' feed room in the haymow."
"Of course I want to know. I'll go check on her now. While I do, see if you can find a good sturdy box, medium sided and broad; an herb box would do nicely. And some soft blankets and laundered rags. She and her kittens might feel more secure in there for the first few weeks, until at least the babies open their eyes."
"Aye, Lady Esme."
"Oh, bring me a pan of clean warm water too. You never know when there might be trouble during a delivery. I want to be ready to help if need be. — Tracy Anne Warren

I prayed last night, too,' she said to me, glaring at Mary Catherina's direction. 'I prayed for a good long time to God to do the right thing in Kansas. That's all I said
the right thing. And I guess that's the difference between Mary Catherine and me: I don't feel I need to tell the Lord what the right thing is. I have faith the Lord knows. — David Levithan

St. Chrysostom, suffering under the Empress Eudoxia, tells his friend Cyriacus how he armed himself beforehand...."I thought, will she banish me? 'The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof.' Take away my goods? 'Naked came I into the world, and naked must I return.' Will she stone me? I remembered Stephen. Behead me? John Baptist came into my mind," etc. Thus it should be with every one that intends to live and die comfortably: they must, as we say, lay up something for a rainy day; they must stock themselves with graces, store up promises, and furnish themselves with experiences of God's lovingkindness to others and themselves too, that so, when the evil day comes, they may have much good coming thereby. — John Spencer

You're too good for me."
He laughed. "Are we talking about the same person? The selfish fucker who curses and yells, blows up cars and beats up people, because he has a temper he can't control? You know, the one who drinks like a fish and fries his brain with drugs? That person is too good for you?"
She shook her head. "I'm talking about the boy who shared his chocolate bar with me when he probably never shared anything before, who gave me his mama's favourite book, because he thought I deserved to read. The one who seems to be constantly fixing me up when I get hurt. I'm talking about the boy who treats me like I'm a regular girl, the one who desperately needs his bedroom cleaned and laundry washed but chooses to live in a mess and wear dirty clothes, because he's too polite to ask the girl he kisses for help."
"Wow," Carmine said. "I'd like to meet that motherfucker. — J.M. Darhower

My friend Emma, who likes things to add up neatly, claims that this is because my parents died when I was too young to take it in: they were there one day and gone the next, crashing through that fence so hard and fast they left it splintered for good. When I was Lexie Madison for eight months she turned into a real person to me, a sister I lost or left behind on the way; a shadow somewhere inside me, like the shadows of vanishing twins that show up on people's X-rays once in a blue moon. Even before she came back to find me I knew I owed her something, for being the one who lived. — Tana French

Eve returned to her lip-gloss application. "Biology. Ms Whittier," she said, not bothering to look at Luke.
"Cool. Me too. Can I borrow that?" He reached around her and plucked her lip glaze out of her fingers. She still held the wand.
He held out his hand for it.
"What? No," Eve said.
"Come on, it's my first day. I want to make a good impression. And clearly biology can't be understood without lipstick," Luke joked.
"Funny." Eve grabbed the lip glaze back. "This stuff is really good for you."
Luke raised his eyebrows. They disappeared into his floppy blond hair. He didn't have expressive dark brows like Mal.
"It has green tea antioxidants," Eve continued. "And macadamia extract and aloe vera for healing."
"Oh. That's different then," Luke said. "Carry on. — Amy Meredith

Russ decided the best defense was a good offense. "I'm Russell Van Alstyne, Millers Kill chrief of police." He held out his hand. She shook firm, like a guy.
"Clare Fergusson," she said. "I'm the new priest at Saint Alban's. That's the Episcopal Church. At the corner of Elm and Church." there was a faint testiness in her voice. Russ relaxed a fraction. A woman priest. If that didn't beat all.
"I know which it is. There are only four churches in town." He saw the fog creeping along the edges of his glasses again and snatched them off, fishing for a tissue in his pocket. "Can you tell me what happened, um ... " What was he supposed to call her? "Mother?"
"I go by Reverend, Chief. Ms. is fine, too."
"Oh. Sorry. I never met a woman priest before."
"We're just like the men priests, except we're willing to pull over and ask directions. — Julia Spencer-Fleming

I opened my mouth to tell her that nothing could kill me, not now, but she said, 'Not kill you. Destroy you. Dissolve you. You wouldn't die in here, nothing ever dies in here, but if you stayed here for too long, after a while just a little of you would exist everywhere, all spread out. And that's not a good thing. Never enough of you all together in one place, so there wouldn't be anything left that would think of itself as an "I." No point of view any longer, because you'd be an infinite sequence of views and points ... — Neil Gaiman

The other thing that's happened with writing is that I'm not afraid it will go away. Up until a couple of years ago, I feared that sitting down with paper and pencil revealed too much desire and that for such ambition I would be punished. My vocabulary would contract anorexia, ideas would be born autistic, even titles would not come to flirt with me anymore. I suppose this was tied to that internal judge, the serpent who eats her own tail. She insinuates you're not good enough; you believe her and try less, ratifying her assessment; so you try even less; and on and on. This snake survives on your dying. Finally, now, the elided words of my wisest writing teacher, the poet David Wojahn, make sense. "Be ambitious," he said, "for the work." Not for the in-dwelling editor. That bitch was impossible to please anyway. — Marsha L. Larsen

You took advantage of Amelia," Merripen said.
"Not that it matters," Cam said in Romany, "but how did you find out?"
Merripen's huge hands flexed as if longing to rip him apart. Lucifer himself could not have had blacker, more burning eyes. "Speak in English," he said harshly. "I don't like the old language."
Frowning in curiosity, Cam readily complied.
"The maids were talking about it," Merripen replied. "I heard them standing outside my door. You dishonored one of my family."
"Yes, I know," Cam said quietly.
"You're not good enough for her."
"I know that, too." Watching him intently, Cam asked, "Do you want her for yourself, chal?"
Merripen looked mortally offended. "She's a sister to me."
"That's good. Because I want her for my wife. — Lisa Kleypas

Exemplary work, Agent Fraser."
"Thank you, ma'am," I managed to say. I gestured vaguely in the direction of wherever she'd been injured. "How are you?"
"Passably well. Well enough to do whatever is needed. And yourself?"
"Uh, good. I'm good."
She seemed to expect more.
"And I'm ready to get this done," I added with enthusiasm. Jeez, I sounded like such a dork.
She gave me a sharp nod. "Commendable.[ ... ]"
[ ... ]
Ian lowered his voice. "I'm ready to get this done?"
I cringed. "I know. You've got one more job as my partner."
"What's that?"
"Save me from myself."
"Spawn and doppelgangers I can do, but saving you from yourself is too tall an order for any man. — Lisa Shearin

No. She's perfect. She doesn't fuss, doesn't nag, she trusts me absolutely no matter how dumb I act, and she never, ever holds the past against me. Which, come on, it would be really easy for her to do. On top of it, she's mind-blowing in bed and I can't keep my hands off of her. She's too good to be true, so why would she want to spend the rest of her life with me? — Jay Crownover

I love you, Savannah, and I always will," I breathed. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You were my best friend and my lover, and I dont regret a single moment of it. You made me feel alive again, and most of all, you gave me my father. I'll never forget you for that. You're always going to be the very best part of me. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I have to leave, and you have to see your husband." As I spoke, I could feel her shaking with sobs, and I continued to hold her for a long time afterward. When we finally seperated, I knew that it would be the last time I ever held her. I backed away, my eyes holding Savannah's. "I love you, too, John," she said. "Good-bye." I raised a hand. — Nicholas Sparks

Slowly, slowly pulling up. Or grabbing hold of Debby's arm, vise-like, for an Indian rub and what starts as a joke gets more and more frantic, him rubbing until he draws speckles of blood, his teeth grinding. She could see him getting that same look Runner got when he was around the kids: jacked up and tense. "Dad needs to leave." "Geez, Patty, not even a hi before you toss me out? Come on, let's talk, I got a business proposition for you." "I'm in no position to make a business deal, Runner," she said. "I'm broke." "You're never as broke as you say," he said with a leer, and twisted his baseball cap backward on stringy hair. He'd meant it to sound jokey, but it came out menacing, as if she'd better not be broke if she knew what was good for her. He dumped the girls off him and walked over to her, standing too close as always, beer sweat sticking his longjohn shirt to his chest. "Didn't you just sell the tiller, Patty? Vern Evelee told — Gillian Flynn

Stroking Jane's soft hair, he murmured, "About ... the things I have here. If you're game, I'm still going to want to play ... if you know what I mean. But from now on, it's just for fun, and only for you and me."
Hell, they'd had a shitload of good, leathered-up, freaky sex in this place, and he was always going
to want that with her. Hopefully, she'd feel the same
"I like what we do here." She smiled. "It turns me on."
Well ... didn't that get his cock pumping. "Me, too. — J.R. Ward

She glanced at the bathroom door once more, her cheeks growing warm as the glass door slid open and Kane emerged from the steamy shower stall.
Naked.
She swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away from his nude, dripping-wet body. He had the kind of rock-hard physique that would make other women drool. His broad chest tapered to a trim waist, and his legs were thick and dusted with golden hair. He was lean, not bulky, with perfectly sculpted muscles that looked like they'd been carved out of marble. He was hard. Everywhere.
"I'm afraid it's too late for you to join me in the shower," he said in a silky voice. "Though we could still make good use of the bed. — Elle Kennedy

Daniel: What do you think of the idea?
Sternlight: I'll tell you man, I think it's a fantastic idea. Fuck me if I'm consistent. I told your sister if she had all that bread to pass on for a bail fund or a free school or any good shit like that, I would retract everything I said about your parents. Not only that, I would actually change my opinion. I would think differently. OK?
Daniel: OK.
Sternlight: discards the poster.
Sternlight: That's the one question you shouldn't have asked.
Daniel: Maybe so.
Sternlight: And I've been pretty easy on you, too. Susan never mentioned you. Except once. She said she had a brother who was politically undeveloped. She made it sound like undescended tesicles.
Baby: Come on, Artie.
Sternlight: gets up, turns on the television squats in front of it. — E.L. Doctorow

And she was good to me: strong, fun, and fiercely loyal. And if I didn't have many other friends because of her-most girls were intimidated by her looks, or thought she was too pushy, or just flat-out feared for their boyfriends-it never bothered me. I never missed having a wide, thick circle of girlfriends: Rina was more than enough. We were comfortable with each other's flaws and weaknesses, so we stuck together and kept to ourselves. — Sarah Dessen

Good afternoon, Your Honor," she said. "Thanks for doing this."
"Call me Joshua," he replied. "Unless we meet in the courtroom."
"Or Sir," Connor added.
She looked between them. "You're a Dom, too? How many of you are there?"
"It's not like we're werewolves or something," Connor protested.
"Werewolves only get randy around the full moon. — Sierra Cartwright

I'll be back with the sandwiches," she said. "But I had some leftover seven-layer dip."
"Yum." Percy dug in with a tortilla chip. "She's kinda famous for this, guys."
Sally ruffled his hair. "There's guacamole, sour cream, refried beans, salsa - "
"Seven layers?" I looked up in wonder. "You knew seven is my sacred number? You invented this for me?"
Sally wiped her hands on her apron. "Well, actually, I can't take credit - "
"You are too modest!" I tried some of the dip. It tasted almost as good as ambrosia nachos. "You will have immortal fame for this, Sally Jackson! — Rick Riordan

Sade jolted with Mercy's embrace from behind. "Sade!" she cried. "You have it! You have my love, I do love you, look at me." She got in front of him and held his face. "I'm scared of you because I'll die if I lose you. I'm scared I'll never be enough, or what you need. I'm scared you'll send me away," she sobbed, hitting him in the chest. "I can't lose you! I love you! I just want to be good enough for you!" Sade pulled her into his arms at hearing those words. "Mercy," he gasped. "Say it again." "I love you," she cried holding him tight. "I love you so much. I never want to be apart from you." "I'm too fucking broken for you Mercy." She shook her head and cried, "No! Don't say that! I can fix it! We can fix it, and if we can't," she gasped, "we can be broken together, — Lucian Bane

She tried to imagine him as an elder Kai man, with hair turned silvery white instead of its current sloe darkness. He'd still be as handsome and regal as he was now. She chuckled under her breath, amused at the idea that she once thought him hideous.

One yellow eye peered up at her. "What amuses you, wife?" The question fell away to a moan as she rubbed his scalp.

"I was just thinking you are far too handsome for your own good."

"It's the scars," he said. "They give me a certain air. — Grace Draven

You put a sleep spell on me, didn't you?" she grumbled.
"You'll thank me for it later," Lucivar replied, kissing her temple. I love you. "That's good to hear, witchling, because I love you, too." She was dreaming. Of course she was dreaming. But she smiled and let the dream take her. — Anne Bishop

What will happen to her now?'
'If she would listen to me, she'd marry me. I've asked her more than once. I asked her again last week, but she won't. You are my rival, Knox, I'm afraid. Good luck to you. If you beat her, I'll put arsenic in your tooth-paste, that's all.'
'What do you mean?' asked George Knox, putting down his cup of tea with a crash.
'What I say. I can't say it again. All this nobility is too much for me. I can be rung up at any time if I'm wanted. Say goodnight to Mrs Morland for me.'
Dr Ford hit Mr Knox on the shoulder and went out of the room — Angela Thirkell

My cell rings. I answer it without looking at the caller ID.
"Hannah, I'm sorry." My voice is a moan.
"It's Ryan, actually.'
"Oh. Hey, Ryan." I grin.
"What'd you do to Hannah?"
I try to be evasive. "What are you talking about?"
"Uh-huh. Good try. What did you do?"
"She'll thank me for it one day."
"Oh man! It was that bad?"
"Will you relax? It is not bad."
"Is? Present tense? It's still going on?"
"Calm down, Ryan!"
"I have known you too long, Laurie Holbrook, to relax. — Erynn Mangum

Take me less seriously.) 10. Paying the piper. (Parenthood repays a debt. But who wants to pay a debt she can escape? Apparently, the childless get away with something sneaky. Besides, what good is repaying a debt to the wrong party? Only the most warped mother could feel rewarded for her trouble by the fact that at last her daughter's life is hideous, too.) Those, as best I can recall, are the pygmy misgivings I weighed beforehand, and I've tried not to — Lionel Shriver

ghost. No way am I gonna get bullied by anyone or anything - especially ghosts. "Mattie, you okay?" Mrs. Olson is eyeballing me with concern. I haven't moved to get out of the car. "All good, Mrs. O," I smile weakly at her. "Just tired." Taking a deep breath, I open the door and force myself out. I am not afraid, I chant over and over. The other kids are still at school, so the house is pretty empty. Mrs. O had told me earlier we had a new foster kid in the house, but I'm betting he's at school too. She sends me upstairs with the promise to bring me a sandwich and a glass of milk. The doctors said no caffeine for a while, so my favorite drink in the world, Coke, is off limits. At least until I can escape and get to a gas station. I need it like an addict needs crack. My room is exactly as I left it, the bed turned down and my clothes thrown into a corner. A simple white dresser and mirror, desk, and a twin bed covered in my worn out quilt decorate the room. — Apryl Baker

It has taken me twenty-eight years to be able to admit that I'm glad I did not know my mother until now. Not because, as my father suspected, she would ruin my life, but because this way, I did not have to bear witness as she ruined hers.
My mother's sorrow is so powerful, it cracks the clay tile beneath her feet; it makes the water in the fountain behind us overflow. "Delia," she says, as her eyes fill with tears. "I'm trying."
"Me, too." I reach for her hand: a compromise, a good-bye. Maybe this is as good as it gets. — Jodi Picoult