Qhuinn took a step forward, with the intention of stepping in, in the event the Brother locked hands on the SOBโs skinny neck: Someone should probably catch the head before it bounced all over their hostsโ rugs. And the deadweight of the body. Seemed only hospitable.
J.R. WardToo bad the freedom seemed like a prison. As his boots hit the mosaic floor at the bottom of the stairs, John Mellencamp's old-school, bic-lighter anthem echoed in his head-and though he'd always like the song okay, he'd never truly understood what it meant. Kind of wished that were still the case. Life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone.
J.R. WardMan, life was complicated. But the truth was simple. He was her home. He was where she belonged.
J.R. WardIndeed, the human mind appeared to suffer from a crippling need to fabricate in the absence of concrete proof.
J.R. Ward