Mrs.

“If ifs and buts were candy and nuts it would be Christmas every day,”
― Grady Hendrix, The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires

“When his shirt is tugged up halfway up his torso to his chest, Jimmy follows the lead by lifting off of me to allow the shirt over his head and off his arms, where it's then flung away, never to be heard from again, and he's on my lips once more.
But shirtless now.
Good Lord, Jimmy, and it ain't even my birthday.”
― Daryl Banner, Heteroflexible

“My grandson and me wanted to thank you for your service," the man said, his voice solemn. He held out his gnarled hand, and it trembled as Nick looked at it.
Nick took it, shaking it dazedly. "Thank you," he managed. "And thank you for yours."
The man nodded, then instructed his grandson to do the same as he shook Ty's hand as well. The boy, who was anywhere between eight and twelve maybe - Nick had no idea how to tell the age of children - gave Nick a sideways glance as he tentatively shook Nick's hand. Then he turned to his grandfather and hissed a question. He probably through he was being discreet, but Nick heard him loud and clear: "How'd they know you were a soldier, Pop?"
The old man just smiled as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "It's just something you know.”
― Abigail Roux, Part Parcel

“Are you ok?" Nick asked shakily.
"Yeah." Kelly managed a nervous laugh. "Yeah, sure. Terrified and a little turned on. You know...typical Friday night.”
― Abigail Roux, Part Parcel