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“He reaches me and hold the back of my head, his lips brushing my ear. ‘No restraints. One-hundred-and-fifty miles per hour. You and me, sweetheart.”
― Krista Ritchie, Hothouse Flower

“We were not restrained in our chairs, but there were so many guns on us that if I scratched my nose, the shooting aftermath would look like somebody had just spilled a huge lasagna here.”
― David Wong, This Book Is Full of Spiders