Lajuna

“Roll over," he said, his voice all rough. "Jude, I want to be inside you. Is that okay?"
I sort of whimpered. Then nodded vigorously, in case he couldn't speak whimper.”
― J.L. Merrow, Slam!

“The gods of the Disc have never bothered much about judging the souls of the dead, and so people only go to hell if that's where they believe, in their deepest heart, that they deserve to go. Which they won't do if they don't know about it. This explains why it is so important to shoot missionaries on sight.”
― Terry Pratchett, Eric

“Knut, this is Jude. Remember I told you about him? He writes poetry.” Knut looked my half-Japanese self up and down. “Haiku?” he guessed. “Gesundheit,” I muttered sourly.”
― J.L. Merrow, Slam!

“Rob opened the door, and a tiny kitten ran out. It stopped to sniff Rob‟s ankle and arched its back, spitting tiny kitty defiance at him. Rob scooped it up. The tiny black bundle barely filled his palm. Dark as ink, the only mark on it was a tiny white spot between its eyes. Rob looked up from the kitten to meet Jamie‟s wide-eyed attempt at innocence. "There was a cat in my closet."
"I can explain," Jamie offered.
Rob returned to the bed. He dropped the kitten in Jamie‟s lap, causing it to poke unfortunate things with tiny needle claws.
"Damn!" Jamie yelped, grabbing the kitten and putting a sheet between his delicate parts and danger. "I took out the trash yesterday, and there she was almost buried in a snow bank shivering."
"It was ninety degrees yesterday, and there is no snow." Rob sat down on the edge of the bed. "Aren‟t you supposed to hate cats?"
Jamie cuddled the tiny creature in his hands. It wrestled with his fingers. "That‟s dogs. I‟m not a dog, I‟m a wolf. There might not have been a snow bank, but it was dirty and hungry and very sad.”
― Diane Adams, Shattered Secrets