Sue Slade

“My track record is terrible. It’s like I keep getting pickled in love.”
“Translation for us non-pickleball players?” asked Maggie.
“In pickleball, when you beat somebody eleven to zero, you’ve pickled them. And that’s what it feels like for me these days when it comes to love. Starts with sizzle and ends with a fizzle. Eleven to zero.”
― Gina N. Brown, Pickled in Love

“The last thing he remembered before collapsing was walking up George Street, in downtown Halifax, on the way to the Grand Parade square to meet a local historian for lunch. The noon cannon on Citadel Hill had gone off and was echoing through the concrete canyons when he folded like a paper bag and fell to the sidewalk.”
― Bretton Loney, Unsettling Time

“The map of St. John’s stood in great juxtaposition to other capital cities. Where most metropolitan areas used east to west and north to south in an organized grid pattern, the map of St. John’s looked like an angry child designed it with a crayon, making it impossible to get around at times.”
― Helen C. Escott, Operation Betrayed

“The shelves and files on your desk are color-coded and stacked neatly. Even your pen holder is in order. A little OCD, are you?”
She handed him a mug. “I prefer CDO. Then it’s alphabetized.”
― Gina N. Brown, Pickled in Love