Jason Clune

“It’s a divorce, not cancer.”
― J.K. Franko, Killing Johnny Miracle

“Victor's tortured eyes blazed down at her, and for a moment she was afraid.  Then he leaned down and dissolved into tears in the arms of Celena who was only six.”
― Barbara Sontheimer, Victor's Blessing

“Another mound of boulders reared up before her. She scrabbled along the base of the mound, slipping and sliding, barely catching herself from tumbling down the slope. She caught sight of the person coming after her. It was a man, brown hair in a halo around his white face. He glared up at her, lips drawn back over stained teeth in a snarl, long, bare arms eating the ground in leaps against her ineffectual progress.”
― Miriam Verbeek, The Forest: A thrilling international crime novel

“Listen to your kuya, sister. Got three type kilikili.” He raises his finger. “One, that kano armpit smell like butter, burger, dollar; two, that Chinese intsik one smell like noodles, siopao, yuan; three, that bumbay one bad smell like roti, curry, rupee. Next time, find a kano who smells like butter, burger, or dollar. Curry not good. Rupee also not good, ba.”
― Merlin Franco, Saint Richard Parker