shanelle maree

“Fine. But remember what I said about no murder cars. Anthony needs to work on his technique for scrubbing evidence," I said while teasingly nudging Anthony. "I am very good about cleaning up DNA," he protested. "You kept a dead girl’s clothes in your death dungeon," I replied dryly. "Seriously, have you listened to any of my podcasts?" "Hey now. You looked hot in her clothes. And it’s a good thing I had them. You would’ve had to dispose of a dead body while naked," he popped back before staring at me with a...confusing expression. "Oh shit, I just got a boner.”
― Coralee June, Malice

“What level of threat is the bomb?" "What do you mean, sir?" "Do you think I’m safe to fuck my girl in my own home, or should we leave?" I wanted to claw his eyes out. Malice grinned. "It’s fairly small, sir. About thirty yards from the home. It looks to be more of a diversion than anything. However, I suggest you leave for your safety—" Malice ended the communication, let out a huff, and started walking me down the hall toward a room at the end.”
― Coralee June, Malice

“That’s what I don’t get about this world. Why can’t everyone appreciate the immense differences in each other? Why would we all want to be the same? It would make the world boring. I wish that people could appreciate those who are different and unique instead of scoffing at that which they do not comprehend. Maybe if they just took the time, they could learn to open their hearts and broaden their understanding instead of being so close-minded. One misses out on so much beauty in the unknown by hiding with what is familiar.”
― Loxley Savage, Broken Beasts of Beauty

“Dallas-Emily: More of YOU. I like you A LOT and I know that with your career, you’re alone a lot (as am I) and I feel like the two of us have a real connection. J. Weston: We do not have a connection, Emily. Dallas-Emily: If we don’t, then how come the last time you were in town, we talked for HOURS and you treated me to a five course dinner? J. Weston: We spoke for twenty minutes and I bought you a”
― Whitney G., Turbulence