Rico Maggard

“He grimaced and went after her. “I’m not a trainer. Just spent a lot of time working out.” 

“Misspent youth, clearly.” She held the door open, standing just outside. 

“My application to princess school was rejected.” Callan exited the building and fell into step alongside her. “Working out was how I coped.”

Sunlight peeked out from behind striped clouds and lit the early-morning sky. Autumn weather chilled the perspiration on his skin. 

“Such a shame.” Meridian glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. 

“What is?” 

“That you didn’t go to princess school. Could have learned some manners.” Her blue-green eyes sparked in the sunlight. And her mouth . . . Her lips set in some smart-looking, lopsided grin, with a small dimple. 

I should definitely kiss that look off her face.

“Overrated. Inefficient. And I look terrible in a tiara.”
― J. Rose Black, Losing My Breath

“He was shy in her presence the next morning, his brittle spirit quenched enough not to shatter. The children did not see the ghost she saw, only his longed-for presence.”
― Leslie K. Simmons, Red Clay, Running Waters

“The only clarity – if oppressive fog could ever be clarity – was the violent, throbbing, boiling agony pressing her against the ground.
There were sounds, too: shouting, screaming, banging, thudding, squawking, chittering.
It hurt to breathe.
“No snake! No snake!” A woman’s voice shrilled.
“Christ sake! Let the bloody thing out. That one, too.” A man’s voice, shouting – bellowing – commands.
A hand lifted her wrist, and through the torment of pain, she realised that fingers were releasing her watch strap.”
― Miriam Verbeek, The Forest: A thrilling international crime novel

“The woman patted Sarah's hand. "Of course, my dove," her thick, almost black lipstick bunched into a dark oval, punctuating her face. Sarah snatched her hand back, startled. The volunteer label didn't quite fit with the black lipstick.
 ”
― Theasa Tuohy, Mademoiselle le Sleuth