A Quote by Jeaniene Frost
Your mum pounced on her and started sucking away. Would’ve been arousing if not for all the screaming.” “Ian,” Bones drew out warningly. He grinned. “You’re right. I was aroused anyway.
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Shame on you, Crispin. Married how long, and you haven't spanked your wife with a metal spatula yet?" I'd gotten used to Ian's assumption that everyone was as perverted as he was, so I didn't miss a beat. "We prefer blender beaters for our kitchen utensil kink," I said with a straight face. Bones hid his smile behind his hand, but Ian looked intrigued. "I haven't tried that ... oh, you're lying, aren't you?" "Ya think?" I asked with a snort. Ian gave a sigh of exaggerated patience and glanced at Bones. "Being related to her through you is a real trial.
Charles, mate, you fret too much. I'm a grown man, I am, and I can blood my handle." "Handle your blood?" Bones offered dryly. Ian grinned. "Exactly.
Rouen shone in dark sunlight and a storm swept it away from my eyes and churned up the broad river with waves which pounced up like cats as our train drew out of the arches of the bridge.
I made a pact with my three-year-old thumb-sucking daughter that if she stopped sucking her thumb, I would stop sucking my pipe.
The boy smiled -- mostly at Amy. "Sorry, her heart belongs to Ian Kabra," Dan said, except that something in her expression made him realize her heart didn't belong at all to Ian right now.
I remember being two, maybe, and hearing my mum's typewriter in the other room and sticking my hands under the door and screaming, 'Mum! Mum!' I was so angry she wouldn't come out. I got used to it quickly.
Ian grinned at her, trailing a pale hand down his chest. “Luscious, aren?t I, poppet? Go on, stare. I don?t mind.
He grinned at her, and she grinned at him, and it seemed to Maria that suddenly the sun came out.
You do that, and I take back every nasty thing I've ever said about you." He grinned, his mood changing from serious to wicked in an instant. "Why? I'm all those things and more." I shook my head. Ian was more proud of his depravity than anyone I'd met, but if he helped me pull Bones out from under four bespelled vampires and one demonically-enchanced vamp, I'd shower him with prostitutes and porn while swearing he was an angel.
I'm interested in every aspect of fashion. I think it's in my bones. When I was younger I used to be my mum's stylist, picking things out for her to wear. I'd say to her, 'If anybody asks you who styled you tonight say, 'Georgia.'
To be very fair, it was Ian Marsh and Martyn Ware who started The Human League. They brought Philip Oakey in to sing, primarily because Philip was very tall. So it started out as their vision. I don't think anyone ever thought it would be as big as it became. Music evolves and people were looking for something different. We came out at the right time and were just very lucky.
When you're young, no one cares who your parents are, although Mum would arrive to pick me up in her full hair and make-up and fur, and I used to say, 'Can't you just dress normally, like all the other mums?' I wanted her to blend in more, but I've always been really proud of Mum - as proud as she is of me.
But the small cloud which appeared in the northwest four months ago had blown up into a mighty storm and then into a screaming tornado,sweeping away her world, whirling her out of her sheltered life,and dropping her down in the midst of this still,haunted desolation.
When envy lies within a woman's heart it cuts into her soul & gives her a toxic spirit. It is truly something to be disgusted by. I have experienced it so much in my own life that I can sense the energy of envy without any communication from the other person. It lingers in the air to pollute your environment. Envy is a brutal force of bad vibes sucking the love right out of your heart.
My breathing slowed. I shaded her thick chestnut hair resting in a smooth curve against her face, a large bruise blazing across her cheek. I paused, looking over my shoulder to make certain I was alone. I drew her eye makeup, smudged by tears. In her watery eyes I drew the reflection of the commander, standing in front of her, his fist clenched. I continued to sketch, exhaled, and shook out my hands.
The worst scream I have ever heard, by far, is a mother cow on a dairy farm screaming her lungs out day, after day, after day for her stolen baby to be given back to her. And why do they steal babies from their moms? Well, the dairy industry can't have little babies sucking up all that milk that was meant for them. Every time you have a glass of cow milk, some calf is not.
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