Marie

“I’m evaluating inconsistencies and presenting them as part of an analysis of my own unreliable interpretation of last night.”
“It’s like poetry when you talk. Some guys probably want to hear about roses and throbbing, uh, parts, but give me a nice evaluation of inconsistencies and analysis of unreliable narratives.”
― Gregory Ashe, Police Brutality

“I know it’s wrong,” Somers said with a sigh. “I know it shouldn’t be so hot. The whole bad-boy-robot-serial-killer thing you do sometimes. It shouldn’t be such a fucking turn-on.”
Hazard cocked his head. “I don’t see why not. Evolutionarily speaking, we’re programmed to respond to evidence of high achievement in potential sexual partners, in hopes of passing those traits to our offspring.”
“That’s right,” Somers said, reaching down to adjust himself and grinning as they pulled into the broken asphalt lot of Slick’s. “Talk dirty to me.”
― Gregory Ashe, Police Brutality

“John-Henry Somerset was beautiful, the kind of beautiful that hit like a shotgun to the back of the head and didn’t leave any brains or blood behind, the kind of beautiful that left Hazard thoughtless and speechless and, damn it, motionless.”
― Gregory Ashe, Transposition

“It was never the same thing twice, whatever it was. It touched you, and your skin tightened, and your breath sharpened, and something inside, something that might be the soul, caught fire and flared for an instant. And then it went out, and the world was back at arm’s length.”
― Gregory Ashe, The Same Breath