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Bring me liquor, Bones, fast, to take my foot out of my mouth. Cat to Bones

Jeaniene Frost

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Jeaniene Frost
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: June 13
Author
Novelist
Writer
the United States of America
Take
Foot
Cat
Mouth
Bones
Mouths
Fast
Feet
Bring
Liquor

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Whoever said ignorance was bliss was shortsighted.
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Good. If you checked your e-mail every five minutes, or keep texting and Tweeting in the middle of our conversation, I might snap your neck out of sheer principle.
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I say, look at the melons on that lass,” Ian exclaimed, his gaze now on the TV. “And hung like a stallion, he is.” “Focus, mate,” Spade muttered.
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A hysterical human? Who hadn't seen that before?
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I stared at him in silence. There were so many things I wanted to say. Like, How could you think what I feel for you is only physical? or, Don't you know you're my best friend? and finally, Bones, I love-
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Cat, hmmm? From where I sit you look more like a Kitten. My head jerked around and I shot him an annoyed look. Oh, I was going to enjoy this, all right. It's Cat, I repeated firmly. Cat Raven. Whatever you say, Kitten Tweedy.
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You hold the ones you love close and fight the battles you can win, and that, Kitten, is how it is.
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Your mum pounced on her and started sucking away. Would’ve been arousing if not for all the screaming.” “Ian,” Bones drew out warningly. He grinned. “You’re right. I was aroused anyway.
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That one tickled. If electrocution is your way of flirting, I commend you on your originality.
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He looked at the box with interest. 'Well, well. Five speeds. Heat and massage. Deep, penetrating action. Sure this isn't yours?
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Why did you tell her I'm your boyfriend? Why doesn't she know about your real one? - Timmy He's English! And Mom...Mom hates foreigners! - Cat
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Next to her, I felt like Carrot Top in drag. Cat re: Annette
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We are all more than the sum of our sins.
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Ask me if I sparkle and I’ll kill you where you stand.” (Bones)
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Be still my non-beating heart.
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Dead or not, you must be bored with women telling you how you look like the hottest, most exotic wet dream they’ve ever had. No wonder the thought of you, grapes, and some scented massage oils crossed my mind – and if you drop that towel again, I’m going to need a cold shower.
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There's nothing to catch up on. You came, you saw, you scored, you left. End of story.
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I do not understand this analogy, Mencheres muttered.
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I was sitting cross-legged in bed, trying without success to pretend I'd misunderstood the image I'd glimpsed. Yeah, right. Because Vlad had been between my legs looking for a set of keys he'd lost.
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