Just My Personal Opinion, Of Course...

" Pushing herself backwards, away from the face pressed close to hers, Louise replied only with a prim: I bed your pardon?" "She noticed he was carrying some kind of bagel in his hand. With eyes peering between hat and scarf, the half-hidden face repeated the question, impatiently: "I said: when do you think it's going to start?" "Louise uncomfortable being so close to the strange, furtive face in the gathering early evening gloom, voiced another question in an uneasy voice: "What are you talking about? "His answer was a gruff, peremptory: "Always questions; can't get a straight answer nowadays. Listen, if you really don't know anything, then you'd better be careful..." Guess that's why U.S. cops stick to doughnuts! Muffin Man* Stephan Collina I think I've read enough fiction by now that I sometimes resent authors that I know could do better but seemingly goes, instead, for what ...

http://www.nbclosangeles.com/the-scene/events/ Like-the-Little-DevilAngel-on-Your-Shoulder-But-Sexier.html "The angel perfected Its form in an out-of-order ladies' room. Busty, very busty--It sensed that George adored a good rack. Wide-hipped, broad-shouldered. About forty pounds overweight, which made It petite relative to George. Beautiful red lipstick on big, voluptuous lips. Long, red hair that tumbled down in luxurious curls. Studying Itself in the mirror, the angel worried that It was too attractive--George had to believe he stood a chance with the woman. It tangled Its hair and added a stain to Its white blouse and a greasy sheen to Its forehead and nose. "The angel next arranged that Gat 5, where George was waiting, become more fragrant, more peaceful, altogether more pleasant than any other gate. Soon all the seats were full except for the one next to George, which looked alternately rickety, torn, and covered with sticky soda until the angel sat down there....

Upstairs in the casino's darkened security center,  agent Glenda Bixler and her team had been  watching Talanov on a TV monitor. Bixler was  the CIA's European Chief of Operations.  With her was agent Donna Pilgrim and  Spanish interpreter, Paul Franco.  In front of them were other monitors  connected  to feeds from various cameras  located   in the foyer, corridors, and throughout the hotel and casino. The room was filled with the quiet hum of  electronic equipment.      "Did you see the way he looked up  at us just then?" Bixler said.  "It's as if he knows we're watching."     A women's rowing champion from  Dartmouth who majored in European history,  the blond-haired Bixler was a competitive  woman of twenty-nine who spoke fluent  Russian and German. Her hair was  cut in a classic bob and she was dressed in  a dark blue slack suit and white shirt. An ide...

I don't do it often--maybe two or three times since I've been reviewing books! That's not bad, is it? I had just finished reading Who Killed Love? and decided I loved this guy! Throughout the book he talked about being older than the woman he was in love with... So I figured that he wouldn't mind an older woman falling for him! Hey! Fair is Fair! Just this week I had picked Richard Boone--you know, the guy who played Paladin-- to play an actor taking the part of being an author... Well, when I checked out this picture, up and close, I decided verrrry definitely that Don wouldn't need anybody to play the part! Right?? Now, here's how Don won my heart... First, he sent a personal thank you note to me when his book came. I've never received a thank-you personalized note from any other man... Second, he signed the book... Now, those are just two things that got my professional attention... But then, I started to read.... You se...

"At that moment, Eve was lying naked on David’s bed,   stoned nearly to unconsciousness.   Beside her, David, equally naked and completely unconscious, snored and drooled.   By the bed, the dishes from last night’s meal were covered with a black and heaving layer of ants, feasting on the congealed fat and scraps of food.   Two tumblers were near the plates. One had tipped over and spilled the last of the whisky that had once filled it on the sheepskin rug.   The other was half-filled with urine, having been as far as David had managed to stagger when he felt the need. Damp yellowish stains in the fur around it gave testimony of the unsteadiness of his hand when he tried to aim the flow.   Their discarded clothes were scattered around the room along with those discarded on earlier occasions.   The room stank of rotting food and unwashed clothes and bodies. They’d scarcely left it for a week.  "David had returned home to Lujeri Estate from hi...

http://www.dreamstime.com/l "Every person has a moment in their lives when things change, destiny takes over and their lives veer down a road they’d never expected, and maybe didn’t even know existed.   That moment came for me on the day I learned that Lucas Hain, billionaire entrepreneur and pharmaceutical whiz kid, had decided that he wanted to interview me for an executive assistant position he’d been looking to fill.  "I didn’t feel like billionaire-executive-assistant material.   Common sense suggested he’d be looking for someone polished and sophisticated, a classy woman used to moving and shaking in a rarified atmosphere; and I was anything but.   I lived in a tiny low-rent apartment I’d inherited in Waybridge and worked as a researcher for a local public defender’s office.    "When one of my friends in the public defender’s office, a lawyer by the name of Julia Brown who’d taken a shine to me, told me about the position and suggested I ...

Eleanor had blue eyes that simply danced, and her well-wrinkled skin was covered with large moles, as if she collected them. Her thin, gray hair was curled today – her hair appointment had been only yesterday. When she laughed, which she did often, her whole belly shook. "Why would I lock the door? I knew you’d be coming straight here after getting the paper. How is Roy this morning?" She giggled and tried unsuccessfully to stop. "You’re the one that has eyes for him, not me, Eleanor." "Really? Do you think he would be interested?" Her eyes danced suggestively. Ignoring her chatter, I held up the newspaper and handed it to Eleanor to read. She carried it to one of her white wicker chairs and sat reading the article before handing it back to me.  "It said the same thing on the news this morning. The girl’s father is on his way here too," Eleanor said, putting her hand against her mouth as if someone else could hear her. "Word is that he...