American novelist
Jessica Rowley Pell Bird Blakemore is an American novelist. Under her maiden name, Jessica Bird, she writes contemporary romance novels, and as J.R. Ward, she writes paranormal romance. She is a three-time winner of the Romance Writers of America RITA Award, once as Bird for Best Short Contemporary Romance for From the First and twice as Ward for Best Paranormal Romance for Lover Revealed and Dearest Ivie, and her books have been on The New York Times Best Seller list.
He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces.
Hey, what are you doing, little one? You want more? You are just too much . . . you . . . oh, no . . . not the quivering lip . . . oh, no.” Nalla let out a giggle. “Outrageous! You want more, and you know you’re going to get what you want because of The Lip. Jeez, you’ve got your father wrapped around your little finger, don’t you.
There came a time in everyone’s life when they realized that in spite of how hard they’d been running from themselves, everywhere they went, there they were: Addictions and compulsions were nothing but marching bands of distraction, masking truths that were unpleasant, but ultimately undeniable.
Fine, dandy, she thought. Then lose the shirt, peel off those leather pants, and lie down on my tile. We'll take turns being on the bottom.
Mary frowned. A vampire doctor. Talk about exploring your alternative therapies.
...He palmed up the life Alert. Death Alert was more like it: Help, I haven't fallen and I'm standing up-can you come and rectify this problem? - Isaac
You've always had me ... and my heart. My soul. Everything. I wish it hadn't taken this long for me to man up.
Bye-bye, Elan. P.S., Next time you implicate someone falsely, try to pick a pacifist.
Among the problems with shame was that it in fact did not make you shorter or quieter or less visible. You just felt like you were.
Love can conquer everything but reality. Which will win every stinking time.
You are so beautiful, he mouthed. But of course she couldn’t see his lips. Guess he was going to have to show her.
I’m on the benevolent side of antisocial. I don’t mind people, but I’d prefer not to have a lot of them around.
Hey, no offense, but do you mind if you put both your palms where I can see ’em?
From one king to another, know that I'm giving you the middle finger right now." And he was, with a smile.
My twin's not broken. He's ruined. Do you understand the difference? With broken maybe you can fix him. Ruined? All you can do is wait to bury him.
Falling into ruin was a bit like falling in love: Both descents stripped you bare and left you as you were at your core. And both endings are equally painful.
For him , life was a coin that had disaster on one side and waiting for disaster on the other
You're looking at that chick like you want to roll her up in a taco and put your hot sauce all over her.
I was dead until you found me, though I breathed. I was sightless, though I could see. And then you came...and I was awakened.
Some things are destined to be -- it just takes us a couple of tries to get there.