Kelly Moran

I__ tell you not to swoon, but he__ catch you, so never mind.

Just about every available female--and some unavailable--seemed to think the way to his heart was through his blood sugar levels.

We all have our handicaps. You're not mine.

He could be doing quantum physics in his head or undressing her in his mind__he__ never know the difference.

I'll never get to hear her say, 'I love you, Mommy,' like other parents take for granted.

Hazard of the job. That's Ode de Anal Gland you smell.

Yes, best friend of mine. I am the famous photographer you've admired for years, and the man who's admired you.

Before she knew it, she was just another set of eyes in a dusty attic, waiting for the stairs to creak.

Maybe he was going to hell. Except, he could__e sworn that was where he__ been the past ten years.

The algorithms in his hard drive scrambled and his coding short-circuited. Like she__ downloaded a virus right into his system, he got feverishly hot.

She held my face in her hands as if I was the treasure.

Damn, her mouth was a weapon.

Urges. Mercy, the urges.

Considering she__ just blown his gray matter into the ether, he was screwed.

You are no star, Gabby. You're the sky. The rest of us are just circling your orbit.

He bit back a weary sigh and tried to remember strangling her would solve squat.

He could__e penned a rendition of Moby Dick in Pig Latin and he wouldn__ have been the wiser.

Considering I'm a writer, you leave me strangely bereft of words.