“Mornings after sucked. Walks of shame were a necessary evil, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed shimmying back into the same trollop… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“What’s-his-name had started out with all the promise of a wild stallion gallop, but he’d ended up more of a gentle trot.… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“Even with all the lights off, the room was as bright and insistent as Martha Stewart’s smile.” — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“My cheeks still bulging with wine, I properly scoped out the room. Mom? Check. Dad? Check. Ari? Check? Rabbi Abrams, here to… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“An icy slither ran up my core as I stared at my right hand, its tremors Richter scale violent. Was this my demon-killing ability?… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“The twin desires to both smack the smug off his face and rip off his pants to see for myself should have negated each… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“Even when I beat the odds and did well, somehow things overwhelmingly sucked. Thanks for nothing, universe.” — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“What better way to lose that hangover headache than get drunk again? Oh, the joys of being Canadian with socialized health care and legal… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“Even though his ass extended past the seat, it was so rock hard that it didn’t droop over the sides. I checked twice to… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“The waitress arrived with Leo’s Coke and my water, asking for our orders– pulled pork poutine for me because, bad Jew, and a mushroom… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“Sports and musicals, the seventh level of Hell.” I gasped, hand to my heart. Ari facepalmed. “Now you’ve done it.” “Grease is the seminal… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“Mornings after sucked. Walks of shame were a necessary evil, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed shimmying back into the same trollop togs twice.… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“Is this what you want, Nava? Rough and messy where anyone could see?” He’d asked me that same question the first time we’d had… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“What’s-his-name had started out with all the promise of a wild stallion gallop, but he’d ended up more of a gentle trot. I didn’t… — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“I was a moth to his flame. And that always worked out so well for the moth.” — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
“Breathing is an addiction. But once you’ve stopped for an hour, it’s reasonably easy to quit forever.” — Deborah Wilde Copy Share Image
