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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.

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
Male
Bookstore
Males
Clerks
Romance
Bookstores
Straight
Amazon
Looked
Stepped
Novel
Ordered
Didn
Novels
Supercilious
Cover
Clerk

More quotes by Karen Marie Moning

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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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He'd surely been spawned by some cataclysmic event of nature, not born.
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Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye.
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His heavy-lidded gaze reflected a languor that had nothing to do with having just awakened, and there was no doubt what was on his mind. But this is no safe cherry picker, Gwen thought, growing more concerned by the moment. This man looks like a cherry tree chopper-downer.
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-I'm going to kill the kid. - Barrons says faintly. Ryodan makes a burbling sound like a bodly laught. -Get in line
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Love knows no right or wrong. Love is. Only is.
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Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them
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Fire isn’t good or bad. It just burns.
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Oh, please, I rolled my eyes, You're a leftie, Barrons. Touche, Ms. Lane, he murmured.
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You have splendid breasts, lass, he purred, cupping the plump mounds. Splendid, he repeated stupidly, and she almost laughed. Men loved breasts any shape or form, they just loved them. -Drustan to Gwen
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Do your thing, Ms. Lane. you might be criminally young, but the night is not.
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I am going to love you now, slow and sweet.
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It seemed Barrons had finally gotten his cake and eaten it too.
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Time heals. No, it doesn't. At best, time is the great leveler, sweeping us all into coffins. We find ways to distract ourselves from the pain. Time is neither scalpel nor bandage. It is indifferent. Scar tissue is not a good thing. It is merely the wound's other face.
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Hours later, Adam propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at Gabrielle, pondering what made beauty. He thought he was beginning to understand. It wasn't symmetry of features it wasn't perfection. It was uniqueness. That which one person had that no other possessed. That which was only their own.
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Last night you said you wanted to know what to expect so you could better select your attire. I told you we were going to visit a vampire in a Goth-den tonight. Why, then, Ms. Lane, do you look like a perky rainbow?
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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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For what other reason would you have me save you? Because I like you? Better to be useful than liked.
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All my life, up until that moment, I'd had a warm, protective blanket wrapped around me, knitted of aunts and uncles, purled of first and second and third cousins, knot-tied with grandmas and grandpas and greats. That blanket had just dropped from my shoulders. I felt cold, lost and alone.
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I am a kite in a tornado, but I have a long string.
Karen Marie Moning