Janna

“Talking to himself was, depressingly, the only way to achieve an intelligent and engaging conversation these days. Carnac tried to ration himself, because it really was not a positive sign of mental stability. "But do you suppose it's better or worse to talk to wildfowl?" he wondered aloud.
The ducks ignored him utterly.”
― Manna Francis, For Certain Values of Family

“Anonymous dark hotel room, not one of Toreth's regular places. Anonymous hands on him, anonymous cock inside him. He liked it. He wanted it. Doing, not feeling. A safe, familiar thing and it was good. Or at least it stopped him thinking. When they had finished and were dressing, the man whose name he hadn't asked said, "Tell Warrick I said hello."
Toreth nearly choked. "What?"
"After hearing his name so many times, I feel like I know him." He didn't have an answer to that.”
― Manna Francis, Quid Pro Quo

“What the hell kind of message were you supposed to send under these circumstances? Tell him I committed suicide because I couldn't bear the idea of Carnac shoving his cock down my throat and expecting me to be grateful for it? Tell him I'm going to miss him, for however long it takes them to kill me? Tell him I'm sorry that the last thing we did together was argue and not fuck? Tell him that he was the best fuck in the world?

"Tell him I..." And his eyes started to sting from looking at her, seeing her crying for him. No one else ever had. "You're the admin—just tell him something. Whatever you think he'd like to hear. Make it sound good.”
― Manna Francis, First Against the Wall

“For your information, I'm not screwing him."

"Really?" He put his hands behind his head. "Well, maybe you should be. It might put you in a better mood, at least. I see I see?"

ICIC. Insufficient Cock In Cunt.

After that, the choice was between hitting him, and leaving. The problem with Toreth, one of the many problems with him, was that he was too damn fast to land a punch on. So she left.”
― Manna Francis, First Against the Wall