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Quote by Amber L. Johnson

“Hey, buddy. Are you ready to swim with Joshua? And eat hot dogs?” Brady nodded. “Hot dogs! Thew’s a pawty in my tummy!” He giggled and grinned at me. I rolled my eyes and set him down on the floor. “You’re going to make me sing it back?” He nodded, bouncing. I rubbed my hand over my stomach. “So yummy, so yummy.” He fell back onto his bottom and rolled on the floor in a fit of laughter. “No more YoGabbaGabba, li’l man. It makes Dee’s brain crazy.”

Quote by Amber L. Johnson

Book:Eight Days a Week
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Eight Days a Week

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Amber L. Johnson

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“That's the second reporter to call me 'boyish.'" "Boyish is nice," Dee offers. He tips his head towards her. "I'm nineteen. I'm not boyish." "It's your hair," I tell him without glancing up from the magazine, and Dee laughs. "My hair?" he asks, incredulous. "What's wrong with my hair?" "Nothing. But you had it that way when you were younger, right? During the Finch Four years?" He frowns. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know." "Yeah," Dee says. "You did. Same haircut. Kind of almost shaggy." "Shaggy?" "Yeah." I gesture near his ear. "It sort of starts to curl right here. The look is a little..." Dee and I both study his face for a moment. "...boyish," Dee decides. We both giggle, and Matt's eyes widen as if we've betrayed him. "Girls are mean! I'm bailing out of this bus at the next rest stop." "Unlikely," I tell him.”

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“If you love her, let her know; if you are not sure about her, let her go. If you love him, it will show; if you are not sure about him, let him go. Waste no time attaching to detach...only grasp what you desire to hold to - otherwise, why even reach for what you've no need to cherish in your hold? This is folly, this is not the action of the wise and the old. Cease reaching for what tempts and reach for what rewards lest your hands continue to callous from your relentless need to reach for what most assuredly burns.”

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“Deep spirit scanning,” Eisfanger says. His voice has a strange resonance to it, like I’m hearing him through a bad phone connection. “Don’t worry, it’s completely safe. Well, mostly.” “Mostly?” “Side effects have been documented,” he admits. “In a very small percentage of cases. Less than two percent.” “What kind of side effects?” Suddenly I’m feeling nauseous. Feels like the ants are crawling around inside me now, which is exactly as disturbing as it sounds. “Memory loss. Synesthesia. And occasionally … vestigial growths.” “So I could forget my own name, start smelling purple everywhere and have an extra nipple sprout from my forehead?”

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“Lucian groaned, the sound almost animal. I arched my back in response, pulled by his need, my bared breast coming closer to the wall of his chest. I wanted to feel his skin on mine. But he didn't move. He gripped the edge tighter, his body working with heaving pants. "Fuck," he whispered. His pale gaze flicked to mine, a furrow knitting between his brows. "I want a taste. Please. God. Please, Em." That he was undone nearly had me sliding under the water. But the need in his eyes made me whimper. Lids heavy with desire, I nodded, and he swallowed hard, his expression becoming fierce. "Just a taste," he said, as if to hold himself to that. I whimpered, and his hot gaze snared with mine. Something passed over his expression----determination, reassurance, I couldn't tell; lust and need had scattered all rational thought. "Just a taste," he said again. "Take it," I whimpered, barely able to form the words. Lucian let out a breath, his mouth moving closer. "Fuck. Em... lift that sweetness up for me." My breath left in a swoosh, everything squeezing with a lovely tightness. With a shaking hand, I cupped my breast and lifted it out of the water. Offering myself to him. On a groan, he ducked his head. The hot, wet flat of his tongue dragged over my cold flesh. I let out a cry, a bolt of pleasure punching to my core. He made a sound of pure hunger, his lips gently kissing the tip before he sucked it deep...”

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Book:Make It Sweet
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