Ann Ryan Quotes

Bloodthirsty, thy name is Momma Wolf.

Reed kissed the both then stripped down. Hannah whistled and he shook his ass. "Dude. Never. Do. That. Again." Maddox rubbed his eyes. "I think I'm blind." Whoops, forgot he was there. Whatever.

All three of them looked at each other then burst out laughing, the tension from the unknown dissolving away. Tears leaked from their eyes as their laughter grew.

I can feel you,” Willows whispered. Tears fell to down her cheeks, and he kissed her softly on the lips, pouring all his love into that one kiss.

I’m glad that you decided against the walk.” His voice had deepened and taken a rougher edge to it – almost a growl.

Just remember to keep an open mind. He really is quite sweet and won't bite. Well only occasionally. And only if you want him to.

Reed kissed her softly. “Live for now. Find your way. We can still be together. Forever. Don’t think about the unknown and what could happen when we don’t even know what is happening.

The wolf inside him prowled and preened, eager to finish the mating and mount to completion. The man wanted to fuck her hard against the wall and then twice more against the counter and bed just because he could

It's okay, Jasper. I, above all, know what you are feeling now. But this will be different. We’re stronger now. We will find her.” Adam gave him a rough hug before he left the shop. The sound of a car outside signaled the arrival of his brothers. Time to kick ass and find his mate.

Yeah? You want to do some other worldly hanky panky? She laughed and almost fell off the couch. "Hanky Panky?" "Don't knock it till you try it

Reed couldn’t have agreed more with his wolf. Tonight the three of them would spend the night in the same house. He just hoped they were together in the same bed when they did it. Preferably naked and sweaty with lots of intimate touching.

She was his world now, and he’d do what he could to protect it. No matter the cost.

as long as you had a good book for company, you never needed to feel lonely.

Bay stood there, red hair curling around her face and the mass tumbling down her back and over her shoulders. Her green eyes were bright with the fear she probably thought she’d hidden so well.” ENFORCER’S REDEMPTION

A sharp and familiar pang pierced his heart, rattled around his ribs, and then settled in his stomach like a rotting, dead weight. He took a swig of his Jack on the rocks, the burn not quite dulling the ache that had haunted him for two decades. God, he missed Anna. Enforcer's Redemption

One Minister dared to remark on why Tobey could not simply be given a chair and the High King laughed, and said his brain processed information better when Tobey sat on his lap.

You smell.” “Excuse me?” Well, just when she thought the guy was cute. She was gonna kick his ass.

First, there will be no kidnapping. I know you're stronger and bigger and have magic and crap, but I'm drawing the line at kidnapping.

You make me feel so many things, Tobey. You make me feel too much.

You know, doing it on the table is quite nice,"Becca added.Lily chiked on her beer.On a table?"really?"Wait. Why did she ask that? Becca raised a brow."Come on,sweet Lily.Don't tell me you"ve never rried it." She blused and shook her head. Was there another way to do it other than with the lights off and missionary?

I'm also getting a piece of chocolate cake... "Can I have a bite?" he asked, his voice smooth and sexy. A bite of what? she wanted to ask, but didn't. She wasn't ready for that level of flirting. "Get your own slice, Gallagher." "I can do that, Blake. I'm in the mood for something sweet it seems.

What am I?" she asked ... "You are mine," he answered roughly, his forehead still on hers.

Must. Be. Stronger. Than. Tequila. Oh, honey, how many times have those words been said?

He wrapped her hair around his fist, tilted her head back, and kissed her. Hard. She moaned into him, and he pulled away. "Possessive much?" she asked on a laugh. "Just making sure these hooligans know you're mine." Her brow rose. "Really? Yours? Talk about caveman." "I'm a Gallagher, baby, I'm as caveman as they come.

He kissed her softly. "I think we both need time to get to know one another before we make love again. I don't want to rush things." "But mating us so we're connected for all eternity isn't rushing things?

You are my destiny. My path less taken. You are my future. My home. You are my life. My words are written on my skin, my heart. They're in ink and memories. Love me and let me love you. Be with me until we turn our final page.

I think we’re just hitting the age where we’re too old to figure out what the hell we want but know we need to find it someway.

Break something on the computer again with those big man hands?" "Shut up, minion," he teased.

No matter what scars you have, Sierra, you'l always be beautiful. No amount of ink or scars will make your skin anything but perfect to me.

Words were far more powerful than most believed.

There were reasons she stayed behind her barriers, reasons she was the way she was. And she'd be damned if she risked it all for a scowling man behind a beard. She'd learned the hard way once before. Never again, she promised herself. Never again.

I don't want you two hurt because of me."... "At least try, sweetling. Please." At her slight nod, he did what came natural and lowered his head. She gasped into his mouth, and he pressed his lips to hers. The electric shock between them only pushed him to kiss her deeper.... "I think I can try if you're going to keep kissing me like that," she finally said, and he grinned.

Amara would never let them go, even if there weren’t a bond. That was what she vowed to herself right then. She’d fight for this, fight for them. They were worth it. And with the way they looked at her, she was just starting to figure out that she was worth it, as well.

The writer Anne Lamott jokes in Bird by Bird , “Ever wonder what God thinks of money? Just look at the people he gives it to.

Anne Lamott once observed that all writers “are little rivers running into one lake,” all contributing to the same big project.

He was inked on her skin, on her soul, on her heart. He was hers. Forever.

The evidence is in, and you are the verdict. —ANNE LAMOTT

Don’t start, Brynn. I’m not in the mood to deal with your logic.

This woman could make a saint sin.

It's how we work," his brother said simply. "I plan. Jake refines. Owen organizes. And you growl and grunt.

He's lost everything once, and now, he wasn't sure if he had anything left to lose.

When the pieces fell around him, he'd pick them up. It was what he was good at, after all. Restoring what was once lost, what could never be perfectly whole again.

When we are together, it's just us. No one else." She swallowed hard, but relaxed at his words. "That's good because I don't share.

What happened? Who do I need to kill?

She was the last lightning-struck without a mate, and therefore, human.

Telling a male lion not to be a lion wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world.

You scared the life out of me." "Good thing cats have nine lives, then," she teased.

She ran her hand over his head then gripped his hair. "More licking. Less talking.

The novelist Anne Lamott describes that ego story well. “If you are not careful,” she warns young writers, “station KFKD (K-Fucked) will play in your head twenty-four hours a day, nonstop, in stereo.” Out

Decker grinned, taking the cup and then blowing over it. "What';; you give me for my silence?" Austin flipped him off. "I won't kick your ass." "You can try , old man." "You're getting closer to the big number, too." Decker grinned. "I'm twenty-nine. You're thirty-eight. Those are two different big numbers, bro. Just saying." "Fuck you." "No thanks. I prefer my bedmates with a little less chest hair.

I sound like a sulky teenager, don’t I?” “You’re more angsty than Edward Cullen on a sunny day.” Their laughter filled the car, releasing the ball of nervousness that churned in her stomach during the ride. No matter what she did, there would be a fight. Resigned, Mel took a deep breath.

Wait, hear me out.” She quirked a grin at him as she said it. “If we both go into this knowing that, no matter what, we remain friends and we know there is no future beyond remaining as close as we are, we can do this. That way, we both get what we need and can keep things how they are. What do you say?

It wasn't every day that a lion shifter next in line to the throne, dealing with a possible uproar and war in his Pride, found himself a soon-to-be father with a not-so-human potential mate after he'd left her all alone because he'd been forced to hurt her. There weren't any manuals for this sort of thing....

He didn't move, didn't blink. He didn't seem like a man who heard no too often. Too bad. But he must have found something he liked, because he slowly undid his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt. She would not drool. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him. Austin had said Morgan was forty years old, but he didn't look it. Nor did he have the body of a twenty-year-old man. Callie didn't want that anyway. His body had aged beautifully and was clearly well cared for. He had some hair on his chest, but not much. The hair on his belly trailed down to beneath his dress pants and Callie did her best not to swallow her tongue. She persevered. Barely.

He wouldn't grovel, wouldn't fall to his knees and beg forgiveness. He was the son of the Leo, the King of all lions. He would, one day soon, be the Leo and reign over his people. He couldn't fall for her more than he already had, but he could hope she could see how he felt. Because if she didn't, he wasn't sure what he would do next.

So," Tristan said with an odd grin. "This is my home." Seth looked at Armara, who blinked at him. "It's ...big," Seth said slowly. Armara laughed quietly and bumped her should against his arm. "It is that."... Tristan snorted and shook his head. "I'd make a joke along the lines of, 'well if you think this is big,'"... Nothing like a dick joke to bring people together.

According to Beth-Anne, the next reporter is Nico Renault from Hollywood Japan Network. Nico's recently had his face tattooed to look like the Kabuki-made-up Gene Simmons of the pre-FUS rock band Kiss. He wears his hair in bright blond spikes. He also wears the body of a cow suit without the head, the rubber udders protruding at crotch level, lending the getup a rather multipenised look.

She'd been the one to push him away this time, yet it hurt just as much as it had before. The door clicked closed behind him, and she gasped out a sob, her body shaking. Why had she said what she'd said? Why had she pushed him away like that? It made no sense. The only thing she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and never let him go. And that was why she didn't do it. Because once she did, she'd never let go. And she wasn't sure she'd survive if she had to watch him leave her again.

The hairs on the back of her neck tingled and she shivered. She turned toward the door and blinked once. Twice. The sexiest man she'd ever seen in her life stood in the doorway. No, stood wasn't a good word, not with the way his presence filled the shop. Dear Lord, was she panting? His broad shoulders were encased in a suit that had t cost more than her rent, but she didn't care about that. His thick chest tapered into a trim waist and strong thighs. Just the thought of those thighs made her clench her own. He had his hands fisted at his sides, and oh God, those hands. Large, thick and they looked so out of place compared to his classy suit. It looked as if he actually used his hands rather than merely sitting behind a desk as his attire suggested,

Dude. I’m going to have a baby. A baby cub. What the hell am I going to do?” Amara hugged her close and kissed her temple. Her friend warmed her when Eliana hadn’t been sure she could ever feel any form of warmth again. “You’re going to be a kickass mom. You and Malik are going to talk and figure out a plan. Whether you are together or apart, you’ll be there for this baby. We all will. I know fate just threw you a curveball of epic proportions, but you can handle it. You’re stronger than you think you are.” Eliana hoped her friend was right. Because everything had changed once again and now she had to be the rock for not only herself but her baby, as well. Only she was tired of being the rock. She wanted to lean against someone. She wanted a partner. She just didn‘t think Malik knew what it meant to be a partner. Because she sure as hell didn’t.

Nevertheless, for the most part the intangible dangers of being observed by unintended audiences are considered secondary to the convenience of instantaneous access to this “virtual campfire” from the comfort of the home. While online social networking sites are often disparaged as poor replacements for human interaction that encourage superficial relationships, my ethnographic analysis reveals how some people, American youth in particular, are incorporating this medium into their everyday practices in more or less meaningful ways. Through elucidating both the dangers and possibilities of this medium, I seek to encourage people to create their own “virtual campfires” as a supplement to, rather than a replacement of, their offline lives. Through participation and sharing in meaningful ways- from conversation to creating art- we might begin to see these sites as vehicles for healing the widely-felt loss of community and the pervasive sense of alienation experienced by so many.

Good morning, I’m Anne Ryan,” she said, producing the driver’s license. The receptionist stood up, nodding. She was wearing latex gloves. And before the woman formerly known as Myfanwy Thomas could say a word, the receptionist wound up and punched her in the face. She flew backward, the pain in her eyes flaring, and shrieked like a train whistle. Through the stars floating in her vision, she could see three men entering the room and shutting the doors behind them. They surrounded her, and one of the men leaned over her with a hypodermic needle in one hand. Filled with a sudden rage, she swung her leg up and kicked him hard between the legs. Squealing, he doubled over, and she lashed out with a fist, catching him hard on the chin. He staggered back onto one of the other men, and she swung herself up, teeth bared, panic rising as she realized that she had no idea how to fight. Still, certain things were obvious. She shoved the man she’d kicked hard, sending him and his friend against the wall. The remaining man and the woman stood back, seeming almost hesitant to touch her. She noticed that the men were also wearing latex gloves. The woman flicked a questioning look to the standing man.

his back, he’d look like a mortal. Maybe that’s why the

As a good-looking, wealthy, high-profile defense attorney, he could have any woman he wanted. And Ryan had plenty. Unfortunately, Ben knew all about them, and what Ryan did with them. In the bedroom, no less.

Now Ben was somehow going to have to get all of those thoughts out of his head, knowing that Ryan was most likely doing those things with his baby sister.

Help should arrive any minute. But I think maybe we should stand up before our circulation gets fucked.” “And do what?” Panic rang in Ryan’s voice. “Stand ass to ass?” Brand’s rumbling laughter against Lexi’s back made her tingle all over. “Ass to ass. Uncle Hank would like that.” Oh my God. Lexi erupted into a fit of giggles. The grouch of the band was making a joking reference to the movie Requiem for a Dream? Quinn groaned. “God damn, that movie was fucked up.” “Ass to ass.” Lexi giggled as Brand pulled her to her feet. Soon the whole band was laughing and echoing, “Ass to ass,” at poor Ryan as they once more huddled with their crew.

Take Ryan,” Brand offered. “He couldn’t handle being ass to ass.” Laughter echoed through the bus as the chant resumed. “Ass to ass. Ass to ass.

Loch Collins knew the night wasn’t going to end anytime soon, but the pounding in his head wished it would. He’d been up most of the night dealing with paperwork and his daughter. Misty’s nightmares had forced him to wake up earlier than usual to open his gym since his morning rotation crew had called in sick. To say he was exhausted, irritated, and not in the mood to deal with people was an understatement. But even though he wanted to walk out of the bar and head to his bed for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, he knew he would never be able to, not with his mother giving him looks over her shoulder as he casually crept to the other end of the bar nearest the door.

Loch growled low before taking a step closer to her. “I see you, Ainsley. That’s the problem.” Then, he took her mouth with his and knew he’d made a mistake at the first touch. But she didn’t back away. And neither did he.

Anne Perry, Triple Jeopardy: A Daniel Pitt Novel (Ballantine, 4/9)

She loves you,” Ryan said. “Part of loving you is being able to accept and love all of your different pieces – even the piece that needs to love men. Do your best to ignore the negative, because no mater what you do it will always be there. Focus on the positive. That's all you can do.

It is,” Ryan said. “I find it fascinating to see Alex become Zander and Dagger … well, he just morphs into this other crazy person that I find sexy as fucking hell.

Dagger’s smile was easy, relaxed, sated. “Forever,” Dagger whispered. “Can you give me that?” Ryan leaned forward and caught Dagger’s mouth, deeply tasting him. “Forever and then some,” Ryan said. “Just like this.

When he turned around, Dagger was already on his way up the stairs to the bedroom – their bedroom. Ryan smiled to himself, thinking for a moment how far they had come together, how much they had grown, and how happy he was with his life. He truly was where he wanted to be.

Ryan watched it all from a distance, seeing a man known for his enormous stage ego and rock swagger show another side of himself. Ryan found it hard not to get emotional. This visit was supposed to be all about revealing themselves to the other and exploring what they found together. But the man Ryan was discovering was better than he imagined, more human and real, with an endless amount of compassion.

Dagger was annoying and beginning to inch across that imaginary line of pissing Ryan off.

Dagger was looking at him: predatory, like he wanted to eat Ryan alive.

You’re gay, but you talk about screwing countless women, many at the same time,” Ryan said. “Wouldn’t that make you bi?” “I don’t like labels,” Dagger said. “Sex is sex. I can get off with women, but I prefer being with a man, and the only emotional connections I’ve ever felt are with men. I think that makes me very gay.

But since their initial meeting, Ryan had developed a more focused interest in Dagger, gone out of his way to find news bits on Dagger’s shows – his whereabouts,

You liked it,” Tommy said. “You liked it as much as I did, and now you’re gonna pretend it didn’t happen?” Ryan held Tommy’s gaze, noticing the pained look in his eyes, and he nodded. “Yeah, I am.

Tommy gravitated to a new bunch of friends, a few Ryan suspected were gay, just like Tommy, and Ryan began to work through a quick succession of girlfriends none of them lasting more than a few months’ time – and not a single one of them could kiss him like Tommy. That was a fact Ryan did not intend to share with anyone. Ever.

For the first time in over a decade, Dagger was thinking he might want this to be more than physical, and that was something he doubted Ryan would ever want with him.

Dagger, don’t,” Ryan said. “I’ll come.” Dagger licked at Ryan’s lips, his hips rocking against Ryan. “Don’t worry, Ry. I love come.

Before Ryan’s eye’s, Dagger morphed into the rock star he was known to be. Gone were the soft tones and textures of his personality he shared with Ryan when they were alone. Those traits were replaced with a persona based on raw sexuality and swagger.

Dagger smiled down at him and tipped his hips forward, then started to hum softly the melody to the Black Ice classic, “Everything I Am.” He dropped down to his elbows, pressed his chest to Ryan’s, and left a gentle kiss on his lips. Then he started singing in a husky, whispered tone that made Ryan tremble. Under me. Over me. You make me high. Love me.

Take me. Deep inside. And I will love you. With everything I am. Emotion stung at Ryan’s eyes. His chest felt tight and the lump in his throat was difficult to swallow around. No one had ever sung for him – and certainly not a solo performance like this, while naked in bed. If he doubted his feelings for Dagger before this serenade, none remained. Dagger was intricately woven around every cell fiber of his being, all the way to deepest recesses of his soul.

Are you going to fuck me now?” he asked. Ryan shook his head, then lowered to kiss Dagger. “I’m not going to fuck you, Dagger. I’m going to love you.

Sometimes she thought she would have been better off procreating at twenty-two than thirty-two. Back then, she had thought she wanted four or five kids someday. She was still young and dumb enough to think it possible. Maybe that’s how mothers like Anne Marie were made — they plunged headlong into the whole endeavor before they knew any better. They weren’t selfish or greedy with their time because as adults they had never spent several Saturdays in a row lying in bed watching Meg Ryan movies on cable. They had never passed an entire weekend indoors, just because they felt like it.

In the quiet evening, though, I’d catch an old Meg Ryan or Julia Roberts rom-com on the television. And I can tell you this: no one in the world wants to be single during a rom-com. No one in the world says, Thank God nobody looks at me that way. Thank God nobody sprints through an airport and shouts “I love you” just before going through security.

Okay, enemies with benefits.

Hello, boys,” she said, reminding me of a character from Supernatural as she said it.

Of course, it’s a bad idea, so I want to do it.

I will never get enough of Sophie Ryan. My sun. Always the brightest star. Warm and comforting. I miss her when she’s not with me. And every day, she’s the first thought in my head, my sunrise.

we Montgomerys will be here. Probably with a cheese plate, because that’s how we roll.” I

From the front, Coach Zawasky booted up his computer. “We’re missing Ryan and Hale.” That elicited a grunt. “I’ll bet those poor sons of bitches won’t miss my divine wisdom ever again after the Wolverine Special Drill I have in store for them.” “Shit.” Matt swallowed and shrunk into his chair. “Dare I ask?” I whispered. Cam’s head tilted toward mine, pure fear reflecting in his eyes. “Pray you never know.” Matt slid the playbook out of his messenger bag and I could have sworn his hand trembled. “Watkins used to be a drill instructor for the Marines and he really misses his old job—” “I sure as fuck don’t miss it when you pissants screw up. Because you will. Eventually.” Beady eyes glinted at me from across the room. I could have sworn that was a gleam of hope aimed my way. Like he was hoping to consume my soul. I blinked at the man sipping his coffee—or the devil’s tears—at a distance much too far for a human to have caught that. “How did he hear us?” Cam’s chest shuddered with an unsteady breath. “There are theories. And they all involve Satan.” “I knew it.

For this reason- the sentimental mementos of personal relationships collectively stockpiled and interlinked within the vast archives of the site- Facebook has become an important place for remembrance, a nostalgic campfire that draws together old friends in my memory. It is also a virtual medium through which my now-distant friends and I keep track of the ongoing stories of each others’ lives, enabling us to “groom” one another in a variety of ways- sending Gifts, playing Scrabulous, or taking the time to write a humorous or thoughtful Wall Post. The glow of this campfire may make invisible the surrounding forest and the wolves that lurk within, waiting for their chance to steal our source of sustenance for their own gain.

He expected too much from people, that was the problem, Ethan thought. He expected too much from life. In a way, he wished he could be like Ryan, so easy to please, satisfied to sit in front of the TV all day, killing imaginary people and sometimes getting killed himself. Lyrics from a Kurt Cobain song played in his head, the ones about wishing he could be easily amused like everybody else. After

Carrie Ann is an absolute treat.” – New York Times Bestselling Author J. Kenner

teacher. Your job is to keep

Oh, Will, shake me with your spear!