Mom raised us to believe that every lie puts something out there in the world that's inevitably going to come back and bite you in the petunia.

I have found there to be little distance between the unlatching of a chain and the spreading of a woman’s legs. As if they can never unbar only a single entrance. It’s a disease called hope. Women suffer from it greatly.

There was pain, but there was also joy. It was in the tension between the two that life happened. Imperfect as it was, this world was real. Illusion was no substitute. I'd rather live a hard life of fact than a sweet life of lies.

Are you decent?" a woman's voice called, pushing the door cautiously ajar. "Nay, but we're clothed," Cian purred.

Unpredictable as a hungry lion, he might be feared by everyone else, but he never ripped out my throat, only licked me, and, if his tongue was a little rough sometimes, it was worth it to walk beside the king of the jungle.

Words are easy; lies as simple as parting your lips and breathing.

She's my baby girl, Quinn. I want love for her. Real love. The kind that makes a man crazy inside. -Gibraltar to Quinn