And," Amber said, practically drooling as she ogled him, "it's tradition for new arrivals to help with the pep rally." Brooklyn quirked her lips in doubt. "Tradition?" "It's a new tradition," Amber shot back. "Clearly the deeper meaning of the word has escaped you.

How would you like your eggs?" I tried. I really did. But I glanced at his crotch and it came out anyway. "Fertilized?

.. an emergency stash of Thin Mints. Frickin' Girl Scouts. Those things were way to addictive. They had to be laced with crack." Charlie Davidson Fourth Grave Beneath my Feet

I can hear other things, too. Before you came around, I had no idea a man could make a girl scream like that. Reyes seems very talented.

Sorry. i just can't seem to help myself. My brain is freaking out. Two predawn mornings in a row. It doesn't know what to think, how to act. I'll have a talk with it later. Perhaps get it some counseling.

Try writing an entire story with only a thousand words at your disposal. It’s a terrific lesson in economy and precession.

Where am I going and why am I in this handbasket? ~Bumper sticker~