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Then I went to the morgue and saw that those bones weren't yours, heard your voice again in my head -his eyes closed- and once more, nothing else mattered.

Jeaniene Frost

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Jeaniene Frost
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: June 13
Author
Novelist
Writer
the United States of America
Nothing
Saws
Went
Head
Morgue
Heard
Morgues
Eyes
Mattered
Eye
Closed
Voice
Weren
Else
Bones

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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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Of course he wouldn't hesitate before trying something that had never been done before. He was Vlad Tepesh. How could he fail?
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Careful, luv. I might be angry with you, but that doesn't mean I don't still want you. So if you do that again, I'll shag you right here, right now, and sod anyone who wants to watch
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Because, Cat, it’s the feminine persuasion that’s always the deadliest.
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Get stuffed, don't you have more publicity stunts to pull? Bones shot back. How about chatting with another writer who can smear your name into greater popularity? What, did Anne Rice not return your calls, mate? Vlad asked scathingly. Jealousy is such an ugly trait.
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Then, when people saw you strolling around at high noon holding your rosary beads, they’d think, ‘Well, that can’t be a vampire.
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Aside from the obvious, Francesca, what do you want in return for supplying information?” Bones asked, getting back to the subject. “You to take me,” she replied at once. “Not gonna happen!” I spat, squeezing him possessively. Three sets of widened eyes fixed on me. That’s when I realized that what I had a firm grip on was no longer his hand.
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I'm great as bait! All the vampires want to eat me!
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I’d gone heavy on the black eye makeup until raccoons and I could pass for cousins.
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Mencheres slid through the water toward her, drawn by the same inexorable compulsion that led moths to dance with flames. He'd had several lifetimes' worth of reason, cold machinations, and, ultimately, emptiness. Perhaps the moths knew what he didn't, that the joy of the flame was worth the price of destruction.
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Perhaps some of the appeal of the dangerous-but-yummy paranormal anti-hero lies in his scorn for societal expectations. Yes, women have come a long way, but there are still some cultural stigmas more associated with women than men.
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Between the money and the illegal merchandise, Bones was getting millions. No wonder he laughed at my salary. -Cat
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Bring me liquor, Bones, fast, to take my foot out of my mouth. Cat to Bones
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Brilliant landing.. We´re trying to keep a low profile, and here you´ve gone and made it look like a meteorite hit.
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Now I am short on some props, and there isn't nearly enough time in one night to run through all the ways I've fantasized about taking you, but I promise you this... His voice deepened, You'll be scandalized in the morning when you can think again.
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Ian grinned at her, trailing a pale hand down his chest. “Luscious, aren‟t I, poppet? Go on, stare. I don‟t mind.
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I just elbowed the pretty blonde he'd been speaking to aside and slapped my panties on his chest. As soon as I saw you, I purred, I knew I wouldn't be needing these!
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How I hated the dark part of me that continually foretold of failure or futility.
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After further introductions were made, we settled in the family room. Yes, the living room would have been nicer, but I wanted comfortable surroundings while plotting to murder one famed historical figure with another one. ~Cat
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If you were Catholic, you'd singe the ears of the priest you confessed to.
Jeaniene Frost