ŷ������

“Forceful little thing, aren’t you?��

“You have no idea. So we doing this or not?��

Those lush lips twitched. “Let me get this straight. We’re going to the bathroom, and I’m going to fuck you, and you don’t even care to know my name?��

“I’d actually prefer it if you’d keep your stupid mouth closed.�� Oops. Her hatred was slipping out.

“Well, well. You might just be my soul mate.”
― Gena Showalter, The Darkest Passion

“This is one of mommy's friends, buddy," I told Gavin. (...)
"You're Mommy's fwiend?" he questioned.
Carter just nodded with his mouth open and no sound coming out. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even hear Gavin. Someone could have asked him if he liked to watch gay porn while painting pictures of kittens and he would have nodded his head. Before anyone could react, Gavin pulled back one of his little fists of fury and slammed it right into Carters manhood. He immediately bent over at the waist, clutching his hands between his legs and gasping for breath.
"Oh my God! Gavin!" I yelled, as I scrambled over to him, bent down and turned him around to face me while my dad and Liz laughed like hyenas behind me.
"What is wrong with you? We don't hit people. EVER," I scolded.
While Carter tried to breathe again, my dad managed to stop laughing long enough to apologize.
"Sorry, Claire, that's probably my fault. I let Gavin watch "Fight Club" with me last night."
"Your fwiends got you sick the other night. You said he was your fwiend," Gavin explained, like it made all the sense in the world.
This just made my dad laugh even louder.
"Not helping, Dad," I growled through clenched teeth.
"You don't make my mommy sick, dicky-punk!"
Gavin yelled at Carter, putting his two little fingers up by his eyes, and then pointing them right at Carter just like Liz had done to him earlier.
"Jesus Christ," Carter wheezed. "Did he just threaten me?"
"Jesus Cwist!" Gavin repeated back.”
― Tara Sivec, Seduction and Snacks

“You write poems with your fingertips
And I keep listening to the songs written on my skin
By some distant dream, similar words
But the verses never meet...”
― Sanhita Baruah, The Farewell and other poems

“He leaned on the bar. "I'm Tony. And you owe me."
Okay, here we go, Liza thought, and leaned on the bar, too, mirroring him. "I owe you?"
"Yes." He grinned at her. "Because of chaos theory."
Liza shook her head. "Chaos theory."
He moved closer to her. "Chaos theory says that complex dynamical systems become unstable because of disturbances in their environments after which a strange attractor draws the trajectory of the stress."
Liza looked at him, incredulous. "This is your line?"
"I am a complex dynamical system," Tony said.
"Not that complex," Liza said.
"And I was stable until you caused a disturbance in my environment."
"Not that stable," Liza said.
Tony grinned. "And since you're the strangest attractor in the room, I followed the trajectory of my stress right to you."
"That's not what you followed to me." Liza turned so that her back was against the bar, her shoulder blocking him. "Give me something better than that, or I'll find somebody else to amuse myself with."
From the corner of her eye, she saw the other guy, the vacant-looking blond, lean down to Bonnie. "Is she always like this?" he said to Bonnie, and Liza turned to size him up. Big. Husky. Boring.
"Well, your friend isn't exactly Prince Charming," Bonnie said, giving him her best fluttery smile.
He beamed back down at her. "Neither am I. Is that okay?"
Oh, come on, Liza thought, and caught Tony-the-bullethead's eye.
"He means it," Tony said. "Roger has no line."
"After the chaos theory debacle, that's a plus," Liza said.
"Poor baby," Bonnie was saying as she put her hand on Roger's sleeve. "Of course, that's okay. I'm Bonnie."
Roger looked down at her with naked adoration. "I'm Roger, and you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life."
Bonnie's smile widened, and she moved closer to him.
"Which doesn't mean he's bad with women," Tony said, sounding bemused.”
― Jennifer Crusie, Bet Me

“At least she can be tamed as easily as the others. I extend my hand and give her an encouraging look.

She takes a step�� but then her expression shifts, her eyes darken and she swings.”
― Brigid Kemmerer, A Curse So Dark and Lonely

“He stood back smiling while they shook hands and murmured politely, and Amelia, meeting the Dutchman's sleepy gaze, had a sudden strange feeling, as though everything had changed; that nothing would ever be the same again; that there was no one else there, only herself and this giant of a man, still staring at her.”
― Betty Neels, The Silver Thaw

“We'd met at university, where he was studying medicine and I was studying social awkwardness and a catastrophic inability to cope with deadlines.”
― Tammy Cohen, Dying For Christmas

“How do you do?��

“How do you do?�� echoed Mr. Ingleby.

They gazed at one another with the faint resentment of two cats at their first meeting.

Mr. Hankin smiled kindly at them both.”
― Dorothy L. Sayers, Murder Must Advertise

“She closed the first-aid tin and returned it to the shelf.
'You're all fixed.'
Hubert gingerly traced a finger over the cut above his eye.
'Thank you, thank you very much.'
The young woman smiled.
'You're welcome Mr . . . in all that kerfuffle I don't think you actually told me your name.'
'Hubert, Hubert Bird. And yours?'
A faint smile played on her lips as they shook hands.
'Joyce,' she replied, 'Joyce Pierce.”
― Mike Gayle

“The amount of time people who have just met are supposed to look directly at each other, particularly without talking, is a unit that’s both very short and very precise. When you exceed it you get suspicious, or you get threatened, or you get this flicker of accidental intimacy.”
― Linda Holmes, Evvie Drake Starts Over

“Wren started dining alone in cafes, diners, bars, and restaurants just to be near other people, the movements and sounds of lives being lived together. On one of these solo excursions, Wren met a man in a yellow shirt who made her feel that the world was a good place, and the world was a good place because she was someone living in it.”
― Emily Habeck, Shark Heart

“It was a scent that suggested someone more Minotaur than Theseus, more Grendel than Beowulf, and Nova wanted to go deeper into the monster’s cave. He couldn’t find anything within him that cared whether he came out or not, as long as he found his way to its deepest, darkest depths.”
― Addison Lane, Blackpines: The Magpie Witch: The North Star in Eclipse

“Slowly, ever so slowly, the heavy door to the chorus room creaked open. We all looked to see who was entering the room.

It was a girl. She was of average height, clad in new 'first day of the semester' jeans, a white blouse that peeked out from under a navy-blue jacket, and clean new Keds girls�� sneakers. Her chestnut-colored hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her cheeks were rosy against her pale skin, partly because it was cold outside, partly because she thought she was interrupting the class.

'Can I help you?' Mrs. Quincy asked.

The girl hesitated at the door, clutching her backpack tightly. She looked at Mrs. Quincy nervously and fumbled for a piece of paper in her pocket. She walked up to the teacher, holding out the class schedule change form with both hope and a bit of fear. She bit her lip and waited for Mrs. Quincy’s reaction, hoping she wouldn’t be turned away or scolded.”
― Alex Diaz-Granados, Reunion: Coda: Book 2 of the Reunion Duology