Sol Mar

“How dare you touch my cookies, you bastard!” Jason said in utter disgust before popping the cookie into his mouth and heading back to his house.
“Damn those looked good, too,” Brad grumbled.
Haley sighed. “Don’t worry I have a second plate on my counter.” The words were barely out of her mouth when Jason abruptly changed course and headed towards her house.
“Well, there was,” she said, watching Jason walk into her house like he owned it. A minute later he walked out of her house, carrying both plates and the gallon of milk she had in her fridge. He headed back to his house, but not before he glared at Brad. “You cookie thieving bastard,” they heard him mutter.
Brad rolled his eyes, chuckling. “And people wonder how I lost weight rooming with him in college.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Playing for Keeps

“If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”
― Stephen King

“My palms itched to have a close encounter of the bitch-slap kind with his face.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Obsidian

“He glared accusingly at her while he made short work of his clothes. "You didn't wake me up."
She rolled her eyes as she speared a piece of sausage with her fork. "I did wake you up. Three times in fact. Each time you threw something at me and went back to sleep."
Jason gaped at her. "And you gave up? You know our routine, woman. You have to
keep at it until I'm forced to get off the bed to find something to throw at you.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Playing for Keeps