I'm a bartender. I like recipes. They're concretes. Was the drink recipe for seduction one shot charm and two shots self-deception, shaken, not stirred? — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
My city. I pondered that phrase, wondered why Barrons felt that way. He never said “our world.” He always said “your world.” But he called Dublin his city. Merely because he’d been in it so long? Or had Barrons, like… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“I can either be a victim—or a winner. Fuck victimhood. I don’t wear it well; it clashes with my wardrobe.” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Ancient eyes had stared at me, filled with ancient grief. And something more. Something so alien and unexpected that I'd almost burst into tears.… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Sometimes, Ms. Lane," he said, "one must break with one's past to embrace one's future. It is never an easy thing to do. It… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“I think I’m under control, that I’ve stripped away all weaknesses. That committing to my mission has made me impervious. I’m wrong. The thought… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset, to touch… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“Finally, someone had seen him. And what had he done? Let her get away. Undermined by his disgusting human anatomy. It had just been… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“Our sex is fierce. We will both be bruised. "I want it to always be like this," I tell him. "Try holding onto that… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye. — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Strength wasn‘t about being able to do everything alone. Strength was knowing when to ask for help and not being too proud to do… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“He swapped the fistful of my shirt for one in my hair, and ground his mouth against mine.” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
