We didn't, after all, sing Another One Bites The Dust as the coffin was carried out; Hazel and the vicar had settled instead on the more traditional How Great Thou Art. And Aunty Rose's old adversary the mayor was pressed into service as a coffin bearer to replace Matt.Rose Adele Thornton, born in Bath, England, died in Waimanu, New Zealand, a mere fifty-three years later. Adept and compassionate nurse, fervent advocate of animal welfare, champion of correct diction and tireless crusader against the misuse of apostrophes. Experimental chef, peerless aunt, brave sufferer and true friend. She had the grace and courage to thoroughly enjoy a life which denied her everything she most wanted. The bravest woman I ever knew.
Trina stared into her open kitchen cabinets. She was two and a half days into her pre-date-night ritual fast, and she was about to crack. Technically, she wasn’t going out on a date Saturday night, but Juliet was determined to have a man in her bed by the end of the evening. To be honest, Trina wasn’t really looking forward to tomorrow night’s manhunt. Sure, she was desperate for some hot monkey sex, but the thought of a one-night-stand was quickly losing its appeal. She wanted more than just plain, old sex. She wanted romance -- preferably with someone for whom she didn’t have to fast for three days to attract.
Spilling a Secret What its size, will have varying consequences. It’s not possible to predict what will happen if you open the gunnysack, let the cat escape. A liberated feline might purr on your lap, or it might scratch your eyes out. You can’t tell until you loosen the knot. Do you chance losing a friendship, if that friend’s well-being will only be preserved by betraying sworn-to silence trust? Once the seam is ripped, can it be mended again? And if that proves impossible, will you be okay when it all falls to pieces?
She might've previously veered off track and landed straight into chick lit land, but how many chick lits had the main character recognize how unpredictable life is and then apologize to those she had hurt when she tried forcing things to fit in placr?
Look, this isn't about the ring or when I ever made a hamburger, which, for your information, was my senior year of college.Right, when you almost caught our kitchen on fire.And you dated one of the firefighters for six months. You're welcome. Back to my problem.
Toni Morrison said that if you can't find the book you want to read, write it. So I did! It's high time to give our heroines a different kind of happy ending.
Maybe curiosity did kill your cat. But it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on the neighbor's rottweiler just the same.
Even choosing the perfect dinner wine loses its earth-shattering importance if your guests happen to be cannibals, and you, the unsuspecting entree.
MADDIE: I know what it’s like to be ignored. I know what it’s like to feel like everyone in the world is against you. I know what it feels like to be on the outside and wanting desperately to be accepted.
.....if he’s not man enough to stand up to your father, and take the crap he has to dish out, then he’s not good enough to be with you.
Well, can you tell her that?He looked down at his feet. I will. I will.Guy-speak for, I plan to keep avoiding her until she gives up.
Plus, I happened to be a history nerd. Why else would I be interested in a guy born in the year 519?
The last declaration he'd made to me hung between us. The L word. The one that had nothing to do with like.
The combination of razor-sharp wit (completely real) and his credentials (completely fake) had won them over in the end.
I spit out to my heart and my mind. when you collect them together, they can not show the resistance of an average dick.
You have a travel vibrator, so I assume you call this one your house vibrator. Store one in your dashboard for a car vibrator too? What about your desk at work? And do they each have their own name, or is it like George Foreman’s kids – Vibrizzio one, Vibrizzio two…
There’s a saying, isn’t there, that when you’ve had a near death experience, all you want to do is have sex?
There was a part of me that was so horny, I wanted to climb on top of Randall on the first date. But there was also a part of me that was so terrified, I wanted to go home, put on my feety pajamas and hibernate for the winter.
She was disappointed in herself for being the typical girl. She never wants to be that girl. That girl…is an emotional wreck. That girl…was an excuse for men who cheat and lose respect for women. That girl…is weak and needy. Troy was better than That Girl! Troy was stronger than That Girl.
If you want the extra-ordinary, you've got to be willing to forsake the ordinary' - Annie Grimes in Mr Alhourani's Dead Man's Spots
My work has often been described as “chick lit” and for the most part the term doesn’t bother me. I think it simply signals to readers that the book is about women, written for women (although many men enjoy my books), about issues that concern women (relationships, careers, etc.) The only thing that bothers me is when the label is used disparagingly, to imply that all chick lit is, by definition, superficial, beach-read fluff because I believe that this is akin to saying that all women are devoid of substance and the issues that concern us, are fundamentally trivial ones. And I take issue with that.
I remember a scared, young girl hiding in the guise of arrogance and rebellion. I remember feeling lost in a world where everyone else seemed to have it all figured out. I remember the tears of pain, the rants of anger and the hell that seemed to have swallowed me whole. Although I remember these things, it is now, over a decade later, more like a story that I find hard to believe. Did it all really happen? Even as I write this, my eyes begin to swell. It really did happen. I was that girl. And I’m sorry she had to suffer so. But, that is over now...
What I have been asking myself for years is: WHY?!Why kill yourself in the gym? Why try to avoid a little bit of a gut? Why feel bad for eating half of a cake? This doesn’t mean that I killed somebody, plus I left the other half of the cake for tomorrow, I didn’t finish all of it!
Stop looking for your better half! You need to be whole to attract your better whole, if you expect to have a flourishing relationship.
If you only attract Mr. Wrong or Ms. Crazy, evaluate the common thread in this diversity of people: YOU!