I'd Rather Lie Bare-assed Naked

She Could And Had Faced An Armed Laser In The Hands Of A Mad Mutant Mercenary With Less Fear Than She Faced Such Unswerving Emotion.

She Gazed Toward The Marsh That Grew Thicker, Deeper, Greener With Approaching Summer. Mosquitoes Whined In There, Breeding In The Dark Water. Alligators Slid Through It, Silent Death. It Was A Place Where Snakes Could Slither And Bogs Could Suck The Shoe Right Off Your Foot. And It Was A Place, She Thought, That Went Bright And Beautiful With The Twinkling Of Fireflies, Where Wildflowers Thrived In The Shade And The Stingy Light. Where An Eagle Could Soar Like A King. There Was No Beauty Without Risk. No Life Without It.

I Didn't Get Fired." "you Didn't Punch Your Boss And Get Fired From The Tribune? That's What I Heard." "i Punched What Could Loosely Be Called A Colleague For Cribbing My Notes On A Story And Since The Editor–who Happened To Be The Asshole's Uncle–took His Word Over Mine, I Quit." "to Write Books. Is It Fun?" "i Guess It Is." "i Bet You Killed The Asshole In The First One You Wrote." "you'd Be Right. Beat Him To Death With A Shovel. Very Satisfying.

People Who Say Not To Speak Ill Of The Dead Are Hypocrites, Because You Can Take It Ot The Bank They're Thinking Ill.

It’s Never Simple.” Avery Slid An Arm Around Hope’s Waist. “it Shouldn’t Be. Because Being With Someone Should Matter Enough To Be At Least A Little Bit Complicated.