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All I see are ankles and wrists--and FYI, you're pulling a Mileyfrickin'-Cyrus with that belly flash. Not attractive.

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
Ankles
Wrists
Belly
Flash
Pulling
Attractive
Cyrus

More quotes by J.R. Ward

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Ah, now, don't get all mushy on me. We ain't dating. Butch
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Time keeps on... slippin'... slippin'... slippin' into the future.
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[...]you know what they say about messengers, right? Excuse me? Too much bad news will get you shot.[...]
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She did nothing to try to control the shakes that rattled her body,and didn't attempt to stop herself from crying. Tears left both of her eyes at the far corners,slipping out and flowing over her temples.Some landed in her ears. Some eased down her neck and were absorbed by the pillow.Others clouded her vision,as if they didn't want to leave home.
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So will you meet me?” “Yeah. Sure. Where.” “Montrag’s safe house in Connecticut. If you were the one who killed him, you know the address.
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Besides, you think I'm not used to hurting? For me, it's home sweet home, my brother.
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Butch didn't live in his own place. He didn't spend his own money. He had no job, no future. He was a well-kept pet, not a man.
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Did television execs have souls? Now, that was an existential question and a half.
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To his mind, free will was a privilege, not a right.
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Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistable urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.
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Zsadist: I didn't make up the rules of this scenario Wrath: You'll die if you go by yourself. Zsadist: Well... I'm kind of ready to get off the ride. Phury felt his skin get tight all over.
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Too late Bella. Now, it's too late. Show me.
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Unfortunately, beer was only a short-term answer. And head transplants had yet to be approved by the FDA.
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Yeah.” Rhage sighed. “All I want is one good female. But I guess I’ll settle for quantity until I find her. Life just sucks, doesn’t it?
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The one good thing about the Angels was they always colored within the lines. They had to. Suckers.
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Times have changed and so have heroes and heroines, but the core of what makes readers happy has remained the same: Does the material touch you, resonant with you, stick with you? Do you feel yourself in the pages, see yourself walking in another person's shoes, hear the voices as they speak? Are you in love with the way they are in love?
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Phury? No, I'm not gay. Don't feel like you need to hide it or anything. I wouldn't. I'm just not. You bi, then?
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You will not live through this if she does not
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I feel as though I am shelved. That I have been given the words to the story of my life, but that I have remained largely unread.
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Nothing bubbled up from the depths. For once, the present was so alive and captivating that the past was not even an echo or a shadow-she was, in this moment, wiped clean.
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