Kate Maeda

“Sam. I've got news for you. Not every childhood trauma can be healed by finding the right penis."

Sam looked devastated. He opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide, then suddenly slumped back against the railing, unable to support himself anymore. "You mean," his voice was barely a whisper. "All those romance novels lied?”
― Anne Tenino, Whitetail Rock

“He made me pick a safe word." Nik peeked between his fingers. Sam's mouth was hanging open.
"Oh." Sam's voice was a whisper. More of the throat clearing. "What did you pick?"
Not the question he'd been expecting. Nik looked up at Sam from under his hand.
"Lemonade."
"Lemonade?" Nik nodded. "Do you like lemonade?"
"Does it matter? Yes, I like lemonade."
"Shouldn't you have picked something you didn't like, to make sure there were no, um, inadvertent exclamations at an important moment?"
He dropped his hand and stared at Sam. "Who screams out 'lemonade' in the middle of sex?"
Sam blushed. Nik was momentarily grateful for his dark skin. "You'd be surprised," Sam mumbled.”
― Anne Tenino, Whitetail Rock

“It's hard to resist a bad boy who's a good man.”
― Nora Roberts, Happy Ever After

“I’ve never been the one. Not for anybody.”
He closed the distance between them.
“You’ll get used to it.” He tipped her face up to his, kissed her.
“Why? Why am I the one?”
“Because my life opened up, and it flooded with color when you walked back into it.”
― Nora Roberts, Vision in White