She rocked with determination…trepidation, consternation. Her brain must be functioning if it could play thesaurus. She looked into the blue, eyes of the hazy man beside her and continued, “Fascination, captivation, realization. You’re not really there.” #1lineWed
The chair next to her began to rock. She shivered, planted both feet on the porch, and sat statue still. The air shifted, became heavy. A cloudy shape sparkled, wavered, finally came into focus next to her. The figure of a person. #1lineWed
He squeezed my hand. I squeezed back in what I hoped was code for ‘Thanks for rescuing me during my grief over the imaginary loss of the affection of a wild rock star I’ve never met.’ Though I doubt there is a single code for that exact situation. #1lineWed#TheWriteThing
He’s barely shaving, only a whisper taller than her but gives the impression he’s sturdier, stronger, older, as if each of his years on earth has been longer than hers and has pounded strength into him the way her father’s hammer tames hot metal in his forge. #1lineWed
I grabbed a paperback randomly from the middle of the romance shelves by an author I didn’t recognize. “Here. This is mine. I wrote it.” I quenched a flash of conscience with the idea that I’d buy the book and then it would be mine. In a sense. #1lineWed#page 22
Angela and her designer closet would make sure I’d be dressed to the nines.
I usually dressed “about to the fours,” Angela was fond of telling me. #1lineWed#page11
Billy Bonney shuffled his feet in an ‘aw, shucks’ kind of way, attempting to look humble. He failed. “I ain’t never been one to hide my light under a bushel. Book of Matthew, chapter five, I believe.” #llineWed
The barrage of inquiries were the accusatory kind, usually reserved for the kind of books teenagers used to hide in brown paper wrapping before e-readers took away the stigma of erotic book covers in public. #1lineWed
She scowled at her mother’s camera. Will stood behind her. He’d leaned down and was mostly hidden, except for what looked like his disembodied head wedged on her left shoulder. His arms circled her waist. #1lineWed
She kept her eyes closed until she heard the voice. It was Billy the Kid. “You died a century and a half ago. You cannot be here. I have lost my mind,” she said.
“You ain’t,” Billy told her. “Nothing lost, just found. You found me.” #1lineWed
Tapping ruby-red nails to the beat of Penny Lane blasting out of the juke box, she put in another quarter and made her selections. A drifter with a southern drawl like syrup asked her to name her poison, and she said, “what’s your name handsome? Arsenic or Cyanide?
#Better2sday
When John Tunstall was murdered, Billy the Kid lost a mentor and his chance for an honest life. Tunstall’s death marked the beginning of the end for Billy. #1lineWed
Will was her soul mate. She met him when she was 16, married him at 18, lost him and gained her daughter Sophie before she was 25. She’d had her chance and that was that. She wouldn't start over with someone else. #1lineWed