Quote

When he comes, he makes a noise deep in his throat that is so raw and animal and sexual that I think if he merely looked at me and made that noise, I might explode in an orgasm.

Karen Marie Moning

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Karen Marie Moning
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: November 1
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Made
Noise
Think
Merely
Thinking
Looked
Deep
Animal
Orgasm
Comes
Explode
Makes
Throat
Might
Sexual

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Dude, got eyes? I'm collecting evidence. [...] In Ziploc bags. I think they're Glad. They look impartial to me.
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Do you think a woman can give a man everything while still withholding her heart? We are not made that way! - Fiona
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Yesterday was a memory. Tomorrow was a hope. Today was another day to live and do one's best to love
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Life is too hard, too much to handle. Nobody told me there’d be days like these. How could nobody tell me there’d be days like these? How could they let me grow up like that—happy and pink and stupid?
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I lock eyes with my reflection and don’t look away. The day you look away you start to lose yourself. I’m never going to lose myself. You are what you are. Deal with it or change.
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I would wear pink because I knew my future was anything but rosy. I would accessorize myself to the hilt, and I would wear flirty shoes because my world needed more beauty to counter all the ugliness in it. I would wear pink because I hated gray, I didn’t deserve white, and I was sick of black.
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I'll never get laid trying to keep you safe. You're a train wreck on steroids.
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Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does job applications anymore?” “I do.” I squint at it, then him. “What are you paying me?” I angle. “Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does money anymore.” I snicker. First sign of any sense of humor he’s shown. Then I remember where I am and why. I wad it up and throw it at him. It bounces off his chest.
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The single greatest advantage anyone can take into any battle is hope.
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We're taking back the night
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As he closed the door he said over his shoulder, Because you're a good lass. A heavy sigh. And I'm no' a good man.
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He had a come-and-get-me-baby-I'm-pure-trouble-and-you're-gonna-love-it kind of attitude.
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Unpredictable as a hungry lion, he might be feared by everyone else, but he never ripped out my throat, only licked me, and, if his tongue was a little rough sometimes, it was worth it to walk beside the king of the jungle.
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I don't know about you, but I call impromptu vomiting harm.
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You could ask me to teach you.” “Huh?” This night is getting weird in a hurry. “Teach me like you’re teaching a class or something? What are you going to call it: ‘You Too Can Be a Sociopath 101’?” “It would be more like a graduate-level class.” I start to snicker. His sense of humour sneaks up on you. Then I remember who’s talking and bite it off.
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So how did he look at me? Like it was his birthday and you were the cake.
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I don't make sonic booms. I want a whip. I like the idea of walking around making sonic booms everywhere.
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He looked as if he'd stepped straight off the cover of one of those romance novels she ordered from Amazon.com so she didn't have to be embarassed by some supercilious male clerk in the bookstore.
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Fear and doubt are major stampeders.
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