Mason Scott Quotes

“Minutes later, the door flung wide and Ben drew in a ragged breath with a decent attempt to control his lungs. “All done? You cough for the nice lady?”
“Yeah, it was everything I hoped for and more. Where have you been?”
Ben hacked and then cleared his throat. “Art building.”
Art…? Ben really wasn’t the artsy type. “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Cam leaned toward me and whisper-hissed, “It’s the gayness.”
Ben scowled at his brother. “Yes, all gays have an affinity for art. We lose control of our bodies and are pulled toward it like a tractor beam.”
Eyes of warm whiskey glittered up at me as Cam kicked his legs out, landing on the carpet. “Told ya.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Little known fact and I’d learned this one early on. Mom had two voices. One was nurturing, sweet and nice, loving and gentle. That was the voice she’d used for whoever was on the phone just now. Actually, most people were on the receiving end of that voice. Most people meaning anyone who didn’t have a penis with the last name Scott.

The other, though, was reserved for her dipshit sons or anyone with a penis and the last name Scott. There was nothing sweet and loving in that tone and she had the uncanny ability to make me feel like I was four years old again and I’d just used her red lipstick to draw Iron Man on the wall. No doubt, it was our fault. We’d driven our poor mother to adopt this alternate persona over the years because we were complete and utter dipshits.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Next time, I’ll get a male stripper. All parties should be equal opportunity hard-ons. What do you like? Cops? Firemen?”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Good God!” Lids sliding closed, he moaned. I think I was witnessing a foodgasm and it was far too similar to another gasm I never wanted to hear from my father.
I should avert my eyes. This shit would scar me.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Leaning back, she studied me, knuckles brushing along my jaw. “You’ve turned into a man overnight, it seems. Just yesterday, this face was three years old with a samurai turtle Band-Aid on your cheek.”
“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Mom. Way more awesome than samurais.”
“You’re right. Ninjas have masks and nut chucks.”
Any other time I would have laughed. “Nunchakus.”
“I know, but you definitely did some damage to your nuts that I think you should get checked out before you have children. I meant to tell you years ago.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Someone had ripped the heart right out of my chest like that creepy Indian priest rocking a skull-hat adorned with a shrunken head in The Temple of Doom. I had no idea if it was even physically possible to rip a heart out of a human chest with just a hand, but there really was no other way to explain this feeling.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“House Hufflepuff… It’s a Harry Potter reference. You huff out a lot. I just wondered if you were hoping to get picked by the Sorting Hat.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“The second issue, which was a big one, her hands shook like she had DTs. I was tempted to go to the liquor store and get her a bottle of Jack to calm her down. The rest of her body was completely still except at the wrists. Strangest thing I’d ever seen.
Vibrators for hands.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“I was held together by one thread that was black and frayed, and the end of it was tied to Maggie. She had unwittingly pulled on it, loosening the already loose knitting until I was nothing more than a pile of tangled string, completely unraveled.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“The good news is my almost-boyfriend was ready to pound Eric’s face for you.”
“Almost-boyfriend? Don’t you gays usually move a lot faster than this? I thought you were supposed to shack up together on the second date and adopt a cat so you had something to dress up in a tutu.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“I wasn’t sure what was happening, but the hairs on my arms stood on end and it was as though he suffused the air with electricity. Maybe it had something to do with adrenaline. There was no way was it because of…him.
Right?
We stood, orbiting each other, not speaking—as usual. I was a mere foot from his broad frame, the late day sun hitting his bronzed skin just so and the breeze carried his spiced scent right to me, warming the muscles low in my belly, speeding up my traitorous pulse.
Ah, hell. It was totally because of Mason Scott.
I should just punch myself in the lady parts or start banging my head against the wall because Jamey was right. There was no denying what he could do to me. For weeks, I’d fallen asleep to those green eyes. For weeks, I’d taken those memorized photographs of him and built him up in my head, imagined things I had no business dreaming about. I was physically attracted to Mason Scott. And now that I knew him, the kind of man he was, how cruel he could be, I couldn’t turn it off. I had let the fantasy go on for too long.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Coach spun toward us with a nimble step he should have lost years ago. “Sprint ladders, ladies! I want Grandma Taps in increments of ten and then do that shit backward until you hit fifty!” Noah groaned and Watkins smile sharpened into something that confirmed my suspicions.
He was made of evil.
“And now you all can thank Trindale for making this Ladder Day! Right and left Twizzlers, front, back, and sideways! Hopsquats, Jack Dogs, Skip to My Lous, and…Twinkies.”
“Dear God,” Adam whispered. “Not the Twinkies.”
Dylan squirmed in his pads. “Sir, these names are— Well, half of us can’t remember how to do them. Why can’t we call them Ickey and Heisman shuffles, like, other coaches do?”
There was a sound in the back of Watkins’ throat that suggested he was making way in his gut for a piece of Dylan. “Because you shit stains haven’t earned the right to utter the names of those gods!”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Good. How about you find the balls that are attached to your dicks, draw them out of your abdominal cavity and show me.”
“You want to see our testicles, Coach?” Mike asked, making his way backward down his ladder.
“Maybe when I find my magnifying glass, Mr. Brown! I won’t be able to tell the difference between what you call testicles and raisins.”
Mike gasped for air. “My balls are sweeter, sir!”
Lids narrowed over his black marbles. “Glad to know how flexible you are, Mr. Brown. That’ll come in handy for the rest of my practice.” Watkins added with a growl, “If you are still alive.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Confusion and shame rode me hard, and as much as I knew it was wrong, I needed to keep a distance from her. I couldn’t care about her. Maggie was temporary, and when she was gone, that hole I desperately tried to patch over would rip right back open. There was no point in letting her in.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Maggie had no clue that looking at her was like being stabbed in the gut. No clue that she ripped my heart to pieces by just standing in front of me. This girl had no clue that her very existence shredded my soul.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“The girl was a walking heartache and there was no doubt she could break what little of me there was left.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“My grin tipped up on one side. “I’m sorry. Who asked about the television screens in my truck?”
Her lush lips thinned. “And how long did it take you to pick out the watermelon? Thirty minutes?”
“Twenty-nine,” I shot back. “And it’s the best fucking watermelon I’ve ever had. Worth every minute.”
A single brow quirked. “You want a medal?”
I leaned over the counter and she met my stare. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but it seemed like the air cracked with electricity, heating my skin, quickening my pulse. This couldn’t be normal. Maybe I was getting sick. I’d overheated in all of the seventy-eight degrees outside. Yeah, that had to be it.
“I’d love one.”
It was so fast, I almost missed it. Her gaze dipped to my mouth before dropping to the island again. “There isn’t any more room on your shelf for one more medal.”
“I’ll just put up another shelf.”
“I’m sure you would.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“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.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Adam inclined his head toward Owen. “Two questions. Was I Fabio in that scenario? And who is Fabio?”
Brown eyes rolled. “Yes, and Google that shit.”
And he did. “Ho! My nose is way smaller!”
Cam grabbed the smartphone out of Adam’s hand. “Look at those baby blues, though. Piercing. Erotic, even. You could totally be related.”
A grin tipped Adam’s mouth. “Really?”
Cam slapped the phone against Adam’s chest. “Dude. No. Not really.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“It’s just a shirt. I have no emotional connection to it or the band. I just didn’t feel like coming to work topless today.”
Camden’s hand slammed down on the counter. “Shit, are there days that you come topless? I would like to make sure I’m here for that.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“I’ll let you get back to sweating and grunting.”
“You probably shouldn’t leave then.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my tongue, Sticks. It’s pretty fucking accurate and I know just what to do with it.”
And then I was thinking about his pretty fucking accurate tongue and I was ready to argue that he didn’t know what to do with it just so he would show me and prove me wrong.
I never wanted to be more wrong in all my life.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“He hauled me against him and all doubt gone, he was very much a man. For every part of me that was curved, he was straight. Everywhere that I was weak, he was strong. In all the places that I was soft, he was…hard.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“I wanted to know her. Know where her kindness came from. Understand her strength. Heal the hurt and pain she’d endured. I needed to hear her thoughts, make her smile, and dry her tears. Maggie was a wounded bird, and though her wings sometimes faltered, she fought her way to soar above the clouds. The flight was…beautiful.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Rainbow what? Are you searching for a pot of gold? Tiny leprechauns? Hoping to catch the elusive pegacorn?”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“Will there be anything else? Want to know my blood type? Time of the month? Social security number?”
Thinking that over, I nodded. “And your astrological sign would be helpful.”
“If you want to know any of that about me, it’s time you get a hobby. Maybe start a navel fluff collection, take up extreme ironing, or dress like a pirate.”
“I’d make a damn fine pirate.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“I’m not judging you. If you want to take a break to look at tree dicks, we’ll take one.”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie

“I’m only sensitive in the area that counts, Sticks.”
“The soft spot on your skull that never hardened?”
― Donna AnnMarie Smith, The Silent Cries of a Magpie