An image pops into my head of Gabriel Storm in my bed, his golden skin sheened with sweat while I ride him to paradise. Oh. My. God. Where did that come from? I’ve sworn to stay away from men.

His rough-pad fingers travel down my throat, across my collarbone, down the swell of my chest, a simple caress which has me quaking inside. My flesh aches for him, burns for his touch.

His lips follow a trail from my mouth to my jaw, down to my throat. As he nuzzles, he suckles, nips my skin before circling back to my mouth to taste me, ravage me, own me.

Fear is the passion of slaves.

All women together ought to let flowers fall upon the tomb of Aphra Behn, for it was she who earned them the right to speak their minds.

When you die, are you ever allowed to come back?" "Only if you had your hand stamped.

The media loves negative spin.

"Lawyers Are": By law's dark by-ways he has stored his mind with wicked knowledge on how to cheat mankind.

You're only as young as the woman you feel.

I'm really aware of how feminism and feminist rhetoric has been appropriated by the right.

A leader's lasting value is measured by succession.

Characters are an extreme form in Shakespeare's theater.

Virginity is not honored simply because it is virginity, but because it is consecrated of God.