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. WilderNight has settled over Paris.The streets have cleared of the crowds, and the city has been lit up. I set my book down, deciding to go for a walk. The Eiffel Tower is only a few blocks away. Now that there aren't many people out, I can walk there without having to fight my way through mobs of gawking tourists.
— Ashley EarleyWe’re going down to the Margarita Grill to smell the lobster, then we’re going to watch the sunrise, and in between we’ll probably have hot, unsafe animal sex.
— Darynda JonesHe drinks his coffee tentatively, glancing at me every few seconds, watching me. Every time he glances in my direction, I quickly turn away though he obviously knows I'm watching him. I know he's wondering why I'm staring at him, but he doesn't ask.I finally take a sip of coffee, set the mug back on the table, and voice what's on my mind, 'I want to draw you.
— Ashley EarleyI'm being pulled under - father and farther from the surface. My lungs continue to scream for air. Panic is building inside me, threatening to combust. I can't break free.Help! I can't break free!I open my mouth to scream.
— Ashley EarleyYou just seem so sad,” I said, dialing voice mail. “Like someone stole your favorite nine millimeter.”“I’m not sad.” He started down the hall, then turned back. “Least not when I look at you.”.
— Darynda JonesUm, you don’t have to join me, but if you’re looking for a table, there are a couple good seats over there.” He nodded toward the far end.
— J.M. RichardsAnd I like the light-up.”“The what?”“The light-up,” he’d say. “You know, that look people get when they finally realize you’re for real. It’s like electricity. It makes me tingle all over. Like a blanket full of static.”Ew. “Really? I’ve never heard that.”“Yeah, and I like it when people realize we’re out here.”I leaned in close once and asked him, “Do you want your mom to realize you’re out here? Do you want her to know?”“Nah. It took her too long to get over me.”All in all, he was a good kid.
— Darynda JonesI grab the nearest lamppost when my knees threaten to give out, panting for breath as the words rip through me.
— Ashley EarleyHe smirks, shaking his head and letting his eyes wander. I watch him carefully, wondering what I can say to get him to leave. “I’m not leaving until you answer some questions. Plus, I’m holding your sketchbook hostage, so you might want to cooperate.” I raise an eyebrow at him. I guess there isn’t much I can say. “This isn’t a hostage negotiation.” He chuckles half-heartedly as his eyes take me in, almost sizing me up. “I guess I should introduce myself.” He holds a hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nathan.” I stare at his hand for a moment. “Taylor,” I reply, meeting his eyes again without taking his hand. He lets his hand fall back to his side. “At least I got you to say something non-hostile.” “I haven’t been hostile,” I object. His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, haven’t you?” “Why don’t you leave me alone?” I snap. “Leave and don’t come back.” I move passed him, heading for my apartment. He can’t follow and annoy me if I lock the door. “Where are you going?” he demands. I look back over my shoulder and roll my eyes at him, indicating the answer should be obvious: anywhere he isn’t. Once inside, I slam the door behind me. “That was totally not hostile!” he calls after me, sarcastically. I quickly head for my bedroom door, slamming it, too.
— Ashley Earley