thegreatmanda's Reviews (459)

Why hasn’t anyone ever told me the prostate was some kind of magical pleasure zone? Are there unicorns and orgasm fairies dancing around in there?

I give myself a minute to adjust, and I use the time to take Jamie’s gorgeous face in my hands. For a second I just admire the view. He’s flushed and sex-tousled, burning up with arousal. I came to Lake Placid hoping we could still be friends. I got much more than that. And I’m so grateful. 

“But I wondered if you could come and help me with something first, please.”
“Is it an important something?” Janossi said. “Because I am actually quite busy.”
“Spontaneous human combustion?”
“I’ll get my coat.”

Of course Jonah was not callous or uncaring. He never had been. Ben had made him into a monster in his mind, because it had kept him sane to do so, but this was the reality: a deeply flawed man, a thief, a coward who ran away. 

“There’s a train going west at half past nine. We'll sneak onto it and go where it takes us, and go somewhere else from there, and stop when we’ve gone as far as we can. And I promise I don’t expect you to forgive me, or anything else. But I’m so tired of not being with you. Come with me. Please?”
“We’re not good for each other,” Ben repeated, mostly to himself. He had to hold on to that, he knew, though he wasn’t sure why anymore, or what it meant.
“Perhaps not,” Jonah said. “But we’re not doing very well apart.”

“Jesus Christ, Ben, my Ben, what happened? What did they do to you? Come on, lover. With me. We’re going together.”

“But I couldn’t. That’s the point. I was too afraid to trust you, and you paid for it. Nobody’s ever cared more about me than about what I can do, and I couldn’t bear to find out if you were different. I was afraid to look.”

“Someone should have helped him,” Ben said. “You take a child, or a man down on his luck, and give him no help, just kicks, and make it so that any way he turns breaks the law, and then tell him he’s a criminal. It’s not right. That’s not how it should be.”

"Part of why I'm so chipper all the damn time is to make myself feel better. Maybe if I force myself to be happy, I'll believe it. I'm living my best fake-it-till-you-make-it fantasy." I gently squeeze his hand and take a breath. "But also, maybe if other people think I'm strong, they'll be less likely to hurt me."

What will happen to me if I've murdered Theo Berenson with sex? I'll lose my teaching job and be forced to sell horrible clothes at the mall.

“Lord Crane, my problem is this: I don’t quite see how this business between you ends, other than with you going back to China and leaving Steph alone with twelve-hour days in the justiciary and a handful of memories.”
“It won’t happen.” The picture conjured up by those words was intolerable. “I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving him.”

“Well, you’re quite right,” Crane said. “Stephen can, of course, use my power, for two reasons. Firstly, because it’s his, just as all I am and all I have are his. Not that he ever asks, of course. I’m not sure that he quite believes it.” He looked round at Stephen, a rueful smile dawning, ignoring Fairley’s loud noises of disgust. “But I do hope you are aware, my sweet, somewhere in that absurd heart, that I am ever, entirely, and quite pathetically yours.”

“I meant it.” Crane took his hand, long fingers curling around Stephen’s. “It was under duress, admittedly, in that I had no reason to believe that we were going to survive, but I meant it. All yours, Stephen. I do not want to be without you.”

“When I have you, sweet boy, it will be because you want me to. Not against your better judgement, not in spite of my surname, and definitely not to annoy your aunt.”

“I’m here, and I’m not leaving you, and anyone who comes after you will have to get past me first.”

“Stephen, you’re the only spark of light I’ve encountered in this whole vile country. You’re extraordinary. You’re valuable. And I don’t want you to die because of me.”

The tale that follows is one of ancient gods, malicious curses, and forbidden romance. I tried to work in a bit with a dog, but there was never a moment where it really came up. 

"Something I have learned in my long-yet-short years in the Other Court is that if a seemingly inanimate object is trying to move without your noticing, it will think you very rude for pointing it out."

A great believer in dreams and portents, Miss Bickle looked around attentively. "I am sure that means something. Whenever I sleep ill, it always means something. Why, just last week I spent all Tuesday night tossing and turning, and then I woke in the morning to discover that one of my best peach gloves had gone missing."
"That doesn't seem very, very meaningful," Miss Mitchelmore observed.
"Oh, but it is. For I am sure it was misplaced only through supernatural agency." She was right on this account. In my defence, I was bored.

Kristi's main character flaw? Her love of running. Always trying to get other people to run with you is not welcome or cute. I wouldn't run unless zombies were chasing me, and even then, after a block, I'd probably relent and offer myself up as a tasty kosher snack.

There's not much you can count on in this world anymore, but the gay man's female best friend responding to his bat signal is one of them.

Lying here, the weight of my head on his lap, I'm supported by Olan in a way I haven't felt in a very long time. Maybe ever.

"And our first question is about community. How do you involve your student's families in their education?"
"I took a sexy bath with a parent yesterday, after railing him," flashes in my head, but probably wouldn't be the wisest answer.