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you look majestic. Like a regal tumbleweed.”
“Are those yellow rubber duckies on your swim trunks?” I looked down and grinned. “Hell yeah, they are. Cool, right?” I stuck my foot out. “They match my Crocs.”
I would propose to this pie. I would marry this pie without a prenup even though I knew that it would break my lactose-intolerant heart. And as I ride the porcelain throne while in the worst pain of my life, it will all be worth it. Because that, my dear sweet Meg, is the best pie I’ve ever had.”
Book characters were far less intimidating than real people. I could bend them into pretzels and make them beg if I wanted to.
Nope. It’s a work night. But there was a wine bottle with a hole at the top. It all spilled out. Into my mouth.
“If I wasn’t contractually obligated to my girl here, I’d be wining and dining you with the finest mini bottle of liquor and bag of pretzels this aircraft has.”
“Why are his balls seizing? Why are the bosoms heaving?” He groaned. “It’s like they’re having a medical episode. Someone call those two a doctor.”
“Velvet love taco?!” He yanked his reading glasses off, letting them hang around his neck. “Straight to jail.”
“Especially when you knock up the best friend in book two, and it’s her friend’s dad’s baby.”
“You go all radio-silent when you’re on a job. I just assume that one of the hot guys you work with will show up one day and do a family notification. I’ll be devastated and hysterical and they’ll have no choice but to console me. The wedding will be beautiful, and you’ll be sort of missed.”
“What the hell is velvet-wrapped steel?”
“I’ll pencil in ‘eating your pussy’ for after dinner.”
“He thrust his dick into her meat curtains?”
All about those blood spurts and pussy squirts.”
I hope the word counts are high and the edits are easy.”
