Armored Quotes

“Having to deal with all of this surrealism was one thing, but it didn’t help matters that Aaron was mesmerizing to the point of distraction. Those eyes. That voice. That hair…well maybe not the hair. Those blonde strands were looking a little more chaos than organized since she’d last seen him several months ago. But that body. Man, that body. And that face. It was all too much to take, especially as Beckit was trying to process all of this new information. She was seriously beginning to think that he should have come with a government-issued warning label: DO NOT STARE DIRECTLY INTO THE FINE.”
― M.A. Wilder, Armored

“The restaurant was cliché sprinkled with a pinch of tacky. Beckit tried to reserve judgement as she walked past the rows of bamboo tables, but all she could think was 1980 called and they want their restaurant back.”
― M.A. Wilder, Armored

“Tameka stared intently at the poorly lit bathroom mirror as she continued to pick confetti out of her long, giant mass of curly hair. “Thank you fellow seniors for ruining what was a good hair day,” Meka said to no one in particular as she continued to finger comb the paper-enthusiasm out of her brunette locks.”
― M.A. Wilder, Armored

“Hi, name’s Ran.” The werewolf smiled, hand extended.
Silence.
Ran mimicked the knight’s deep voice, while pretending to shake an invisible hand. “Hi, I’m the Amyntor.”
More silence.
“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the werewolf said in his own voice. “No, the pleasure’s all mine,” he said in Atlas’s voice.
After yet more silence, Ran coughed into his fist before turning to look down the line at Aaron. “I see where you get your sense of humor from.”
― M.A. Wilder, Armored

“I beg your pardon." Tameka held up her hand and shook her head in disbelief. "Did we just get passed by a centaur?"
"We got passed by a group of them," Ran corrected.
Beckit grinned at Tameka. "Goodbye Kansas, hello Oz."
"Amen to that, sister.”
― M.A. Wilder, Armored

“Then her imagination ran away with her. In Beckit’s head, her super-hot former stalker was just about to kiss all of her sorrows away.
In real life, he was simply removing a small glop of toothpaste that had ended up on the outside of Beckit’s mouth.
Nice. Wonderful. Faaantastic.
Beckit cringed inside as her embarrassment was rivaled only by her newfound hatred for wandering fluoride.”
― M.A. Wilder, Armored