“After the woman left, I set my coffee down and opened the bag. Two muffins-double-chocolate and
blueberry bran.
I texted Adam a thank-you. I’d just started eating the chocolate muffin when he texted backPut that one
down and eat the bran. It’s better foryou.”
“There are just as many bitches out there as bastards. Equal opportunity asshole-ism.”
“I blinked and wiped my hand over my face. My fingers came back damp. I glanced across the room and saw my reflection in the mirror, hair snarled, mascara running, face streaked with tears.
"Yep, you look like shit," Adam said. "And I took plenty of pictures, which I will keep until an appropriate opportunity for blackmail arises.”
“So, is it too young for you?"
He leaned over, lips coming to mine, arms pulling me into a kiss, soft at first, tentative, then ... wow. The guy could kiss. I finally had to pull back to catch my breath.
"Good answer?" he said.
"Yep. You like them young."
He flushed. "That was not the message."
"Are you sure? Because it certainly seems--"
He cut me off with another oxygen-depriving kiss.”
“Yep, Gin and Brandi. Call me crazy, but naming your daughters after alcoholic beverages is just asking for trouble.”
“If I had a hundred kingdoms, I would trade them all for you, my dearest love. I
was nothing until you.”
“Morpheus’s gaze flashes to mine, then back to the chess piece wrapped in his magic. “Stop crying,” his quirky voice scolds. “Queens don’t cry. I taught you better than that.”
I bite my quivering lip, and tiny Alice strokes the caterpillar’s face. “But you’re crying . . .”
Morpheus lowers a wing and shades his cheek along with the transparent glimmer of his jeweled markings. “Well”—his shrill voice cracks slightly—“contrary to my preferences for lace and velvet, I’m not the queen. So I can cry all I like.”
“There is one more thing I need you to know.” His lips hovered just above mine. “You need to know that I don’t give a fuck if your memory returns while I’m gone, cause it doesn’t change shit for us. But from this point out there is only one thing I need you to remember.” “What’s that?” “This.” King gripped the back of my neck and pulled me into him, crashing his lips to mine in a kiss that had me trembling with both desire and fear.”
“That’s because racism isn’t just about hate. We all have biases, even if don’t think we do. It’s because racism is also about who has power…and who has access to it.”
“Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!
He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put of thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil!
Deliverance? Where is this deliverance to be found? Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all for ever.
Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow”
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