Quote

Kissing Sinclair was like making out with a sexy timber wolf— he was licking my fangs and nipping me lightly and growling under his breath and it was...oh, it was really something.

MaryJanice Davidson

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MaryJanice Davidson
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: August 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Sexy
Nipping
Breath
Sinclair
Breaths
Growling
Kissing
Licking
Making
Timber
Something
Fangs
Really
Lightly
Like
Wolf

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I've got a folder full of rejection slips that I keep. Know why? Because those same editors are now calling my agent hoping I'll write a book or novella for them. Things change. A rejection slip today might mean a frantic call to your agent in six months.
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I've always assumed he'd be around to be, you know, yelled at and taken for granted. And of course I was wrong. Nobody's going to put up with that forever.
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My my Laura Goodman. I must say that is a charming name for a charming young lady. Eric's old. I broke in. Really really old. Er— really? Laura asked. Gosh you don't look even out of your thirties. Tons of face-lifts. He's a surgical addict. I'm trying to get him help. I added defensively when they both gave me strange looks.
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Majesty, I beg your forgiveness for the idignity you suffered and offer you the head of our enemy as— Put that thing down, I said impatiently. I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca.
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Zombieland reference, Jon said, nodding. How do you know that? That's a thousand-year-old reference! I looked at laura. I can't think of a single movie from a thousand years ago. Uh...Betsy... Don't say it. You know how you don't know how stupid something is until you hear yourself say it? That happened to me a lot.
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Here I am, just wandering down a deserted street in the middle of the night. I hope I don't run into any trouble. Goodness, that would just ruin my whole evening. I strolled and hummed, trying to project Innocent Victim.
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Has anyone ever told you that you lack focus?
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He snarled at me. This isn't over yet, Betsy. Excellent, I said. I would also have accepted 'You haven't seen the last of me' and 'You'll regret this'.
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Wow, girlfriend, you're incompatible with life! And here I thought I was just incompatible with pink.
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Take your hands off her, Sinclair told the guy behind me, Or they'll write books about what I'll do to you.
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It's nice to see you again, Laura. Thank you, Mrs. T- No, no, no. Please, my name is- Mud, I suggested. Mud Barfbag Taylor. Call her Asshat for short. ~Laura, Antonia, Betsy
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Can you burn me up with holy water? Poke me to death with your crucifix? Pelt me with communion wafers?
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I could have gone to medical school, I said. Except for all the math and stuff.
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You don't scare me, Cadence Jones. I've lived with crazy, I've ridden with crazy, I've vacationed with crazy, I've visited crazy in various hospitals, I've sat in on therapy sessions with crazy. Frankly, I think women who don't have major emotional disorders are really very dull.
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Elizabeth Anne Taylor April 25, 1974 - April 25, 2004 Our Sweetheart, Only resting
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It never failed—I'd buy a new journal, write like a madwoman for ten pages, then lose total interest in the process. Three months later, I'd start the whole process all over again. I think I just liked buying new notebooks.
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I zoomed in on the shoe department like a blonde homing pigeon. Shoes, shoes everywhere! Ah, sweet shoes. I truly think you can take the measure of a civilization by looking at its footwear.
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All writers are crazy. So never mind what the editors and your family and your critique group tells you. Submit your manuscripts and keep submitting until you get an offer. Then you can be crazy, with a paycheck.
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