Point Finger At Quotes

Be open in everything with your partner, because where there is secrecy, it can mistakenly come off as being sneaky; where you just may be innocently quiet. ~ Anthony Liccione

I know you don't want to feel superior, but it is so easy to control us."
He snorted his disagreement. "I have failed to control you at every turn. You have no idea how often I wanted to force your obedience when you placed yourself in danger. I should have gone with my instincts…but no, I allowed you to go back to the inn."
"Your love for me caused you to pull back." She reached out to touch his hair. "Isn't that how it should be between two people? If you really love who I am, and you want me to be happy, then you know I have to do what comes naturally to me, what I feel is right."
His finger traced down her throat, through the deep valley between her breasts, making her shiver with sudden heat. "That is true, little one, but that is also true of my needs. You can do no other than to make me happy. My happiness is completely dependent on whether or not you are safe."
Raven couldn't help smiling. "Somehow I think your devious nature is showing. Perhaps you need to examine human ingenuity. You rely heavily on your gifts, Mikhail, but humans must find other ways. We are uniting two worlds. If we decide to have a child…"
He stirred restlessly, his dark eyes glittering.
She caught the imperious Carpathian decree before he could censor his thoughts. You must.
"If we decide someday to have a child," she persisted, ignoring his authority, "if it is male, he will be raised in both worlds. And if it is a girl, she will be raised with free will and a ~ Christine Feehan

moving right, jumping and rolling and my left index finger for moving to the left. I can't say one way is better than the other as my son and I are quite evenly matched at the game. You may want to give the two finger method a try to see if it works well for you or not. Earn 2 Keys by Watching a Video You should know there is an easy way to earn two coins for free on a daily basis by just watching a short video clip/advertisement. To see this option, go to Shop > Earn Coins from ~ Kiloo

An image of Luc's face flashed on my screen, his finger waggling. "Time to go outside!" it said. "Time to go outside!" I tried to silence it, reduce the volume, and turn off the phone, but to no avail. Luc had definitely created a reminder for our outdoor guarding duties - and there was no way to turn it off. I grimaced at the phone and showed it to Ethan. "We have a monster on our hands. ~ Chloe Neill

What courses are people excited about now? I asked a blonde senior in cap and gown. Nuclear physics, maybe? Modern art? Civilizations of Africa? Looking at me as if I were some prehistoric dinosaur, she said: "Girls don't get excited about things like that anymore. We don't want careers. Our parents expect us to go to college, everybody goes. You're a social outcast at home if you don't. But a girl who got serious about anything she studied, like wanting to go on and do research, would be peculiar, unfeminine. I guess everybody wants to graduate with a diamond ring on her finger, that's the important thing. ~ Betty Friedan

The baron reminds me of someone, but I can't quite put my finger on who it is," Ramsey remarked.
"I swear my own father never talked to me the way Gillian's uncle just did."
"Your father died before you were old enough to know him."
"It was humiliating, damn it. He sure as certain wasn't what I expected. The way Gillian talked about him, I pictured a mild-mannered gentleman. She thinks he's ... gentle. Is the woman blind? How in God's name can she love such a crotchety old ... "
Ramsey's head snapped up, and he suddenly burst into laughter, breaking Brodick's train of thought. "It's you."
"What?"
"Morgan ... he reminds me of you. My God, Gillian married a man just like her uncle. Look at the baron and you'll see yourself in twenty years."
"Are you suggesting I'm going to become a belligerent, foul-tempered old man?"
"Hell, you're already belligerent and foul-tempered. No wonder she fell in love with you," he drawled ~ Julie Garwood

Oh noes, kitteh haz major angriez!" I said. I turned around to share a laugh with my companions and found them glaring at me. "What?" I asked.
Leif shook a finger and said in a low, menacing tone, "If you tell me I have to talk like an illiterate halfwit to fit into this society, I will punch you."
"And I'll pull out your goatee," Gunnar added.
"Lolcat iz new happeh wai 2 talk," I explained to them. "U doan haz 2 be kitteh 2 speek it. ~ Kevin Hearne

I came to view the world as a word puzzle and, with no special aptitude I can name, fixed on the whys and wherefores of language from my earliest days. Song lyrics. Signs. The stories read in first and second grades. My parents almost always read to us at bedtime. Poems by Whittier. Scenes from Oliver Twist. Kidnapped. Treasure Island. The names alone intrigued me. Dr. Livesey, Squire Trelawney. The name Balfour sounded the knell of the romantic. Robinson Crusoe. I loved to hear read the exploits of Natty Bumppo. Authors had an aura of the godlike to me. The Latin prayers fascinated me as an altar boy. I can still recall carved names on buildings I saw from the MTA train when I was a youngster. Who can explain why? Words were magic to me. I once inadvisably glued my finger and thumb together at the Magoun Library in fourth grade trying to amuse a pretty little girl on whom I had a crush, and when the librarian came over angrily to inquire what the problem was and I pointed with a shrug and replied, "Mucilage" - a word that always made me laugh - she very coldly stated, "You are more to be pitied than censured. ~ Alexander Theroux

You can sit," Maggot said in a small, shy voice.

Mia did as she was bid, holding her throbbing hand to her chest. Maggot toddled across the room, fishing about in a series of chests. She returned with a handful of wooden splints and a ball of woven brown cotton.

"Hold out your hand," the girl commanded.

Mia's shadow swelled, Mister Kindly drinking her fear at the thought of what was to come. Maggot looked her digits over, stroking her chin. And gentle as falling leaves, she took hold of Mia's smallest finger.

"It won't hurt," she promised. "I'm very good at this."

"All riiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAGHH!" Mia howled as Maggot popped her finger back into place, quick as silver. She rose from the slab and bent double, clutching her hand.

"That HURT!" she yelled.

Maggot gave a solemn nod. "Yes."

"You promised it wouldn't!"

"And you believed me." The girl smiled sweet as sugarfloss. "I told you, I'm very good at this." She motioned to the slab again. "Sit back down."

Mia blinked back hot tears, hand throbbing in agony. But looking at her finger, she could see Maggot had worked it right, popping the dislocated joint back into place neat as could be. Breathing deep, she sat back down and dutifully proffered her hand.

The little girl took hold of Mia's ring finger, looked up at her with big, dark eyes.

"I'm going to count three," she said.

"All riiiiia ~ Jay Kristoff

We walk up the sandy slope toward the dining terrace. I see Troy sitting at a table with some people I know. I look at Scottie to see if she sees him, and she is giving him the middle finger. The dining terrace gasps, but I realize it's because of the sunset and the green flash. We missed it. The flash flashed. The sun is gone, and the sky is pink. I reach to grab the offending hand, but instead, I correct her gesture.
"Here, Scottie. Don't let that finger stand by itself like that. Bring up the other fingers just a little bit. There you go. That's the cool way to do it."
Troy stares at us and smiles a bit. He's completely confused.
"All right, that's enough." I suddenly feel sorry for Troy. He must feel awful. ~ Kaui Hart Hemmings

Me dad planted that tree,' she said absently, pointing out through the old cracked window.
The great beech filled at least half the sky and shook shadows all over the house.
Its roots clutched the slope like a giant hand, holding the hill in place. Its trunk writhed with power, threw off veils of green dust, rose towering into the air, branched into a thousand shaded alleys, became a city for owls and squirrels. I had thought such trees to be as old as the earth, I never dreamed that a man could make them. Yet it was Granny Trill's dad who had planted this tree, had thrust in the seed with his finger. How old must he have been to leave such a mark? Think of Granny's age, and add his on top, and you were back at the beginning of the world. ~ Laurie Lee

Us. All regrets, left them in the sea, smiling at life as if it was a beautiful dream, because if one thing is certain, clearing the strange foreigh steam. Like the diamond ring that fits in your finger, we are stronger as a steel linker ~ Lucia Ohanian

And, Momma, if there is a separate heaven for gay people," Danny continued with a smile, "well, you'll just have to come visit." He raised his mother's chin gently with the side of his index finger, forcing her to look at him. "I hear it's on a rainbow, not a cloud, so at least you'll get some color. ~ Greg Hogben

I wanted to feel like I could extend someone else's joy and not crush it, and that is the giant paradox nowadays of being a powerful woman: you want to live in a space of compassion and helpfulness and joy and expression, and the world is standing there, pointing the finger at you and telling you that you're greedy and domineering and attention-grabbing, and all you can do is shrug and just say, "Hopefully, someone out there understands and isn't misinterpreting." ~ Amanda Palmer

You're trying to be charming again," Shelby muttered.
"Am I succeeding?"
Some questions were best ignored. "I really don't know how to be more succinct, Alan."
Was that part of the appeal? he wondered. The fact that the free-spirited Gypsy could turn into the regal duchess in the blink of an eye. He doubted she had any notion she was as much one as the other. "You have a wonderful speaking voice.What time will you be ready?"
Shelby huffed and frowned and considered. "If I agree to spend some time with you today, will you stop sending me things?"
Alan was silent for a long moment. "Are you going to take a politician's word?"
Now she had to laugh. "All right, you've boxed me in on that one."
"It's a beautiful day, Shelby.I haven't had a free Saturday in over a month. Come out with me."
She twined the phone cord around her finger. A refusal seemed so petty, so bad-natured.He was really asking her for very little, and-dammit-she wanted to see him. "All right, Alan, every rule needs to be bent a bit now and again to prove it's really a rule after all."
"If you say so.Where would you like to go? There's an exhibition of Flemish art at the National Gallery."
Shelby's lips curved. "The zoo," she said and waited for his reaction.
"Fine," Alan agreed without missing a beat. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
With a sigh,Shelby decided he just wasn't an easy man to shake. "Alan, I'm not dressed."
"I'll be there in five."
Nora Roberts

As I was passing this man on the street, he looked at me, snarled, and gave me the finger. What was going through his mind? Does he hate shepherds? Or religion? Did he just read Richard Dawkins's book? ~ A. J. Jacobs

Wicked, to be sure." He repeated the word as though tasting it, his gaze now following her finger's progress. "Perhaps you'd better punish me."


Good Lord, what next? "Punish you, indeed." She advanced her finger just to the base of his erection and stopped. "Suppose I were to walk out of this room and leave you here alone until you remembered your decency. Would that be punishment enough?"


He smiled as though he were teaching her chess and she'd just made a clever move. "Maybe." His eyes came to her face, and wandered in leisurely, thorough fashion down her body and back to her still finger. "Or maybe you ought to touch yourself. Pleasure yourself, and force me to watch."


"Now I know beyond question that you've confused me with someone else." Aplomb had company: his every shameless utterance was waking strange--or not so strange--sensations that spiraled from her core on out. "And I doubt you would take it as punishment, quite."


"Darling, I would take it as torture." Again he twisted against his bonds, so much power at her mercy. "Because you'd taunt me with it, wouldn't you? You'd place yourself where I could nearly reach you. And you'd say things to inflame me, but never touch me at all. I'd have to lie here helpless, watching you give yourself what you won't take from me." He sucked in a breath. "Start now, if you would. ~ Cecilia Grant

Everyone, this is the new girl. Elder knows her. New girl, this is everyone." A few people look up politely; some actually smile. Most, however, look wary at best, disgusted at worse. The nurse closest to me jabs her finger behind her ear and starts whispering to nobody.
"What's wrong with her?" I ask Harley as he leads me to the table he was sitting at.
"Oh, don't worry, we're all mad here."
I giggle, mostly from nerves. "It's a good thing I read Alice in Wonder-land . I definitely think I've fallen into the rabbit hole."
"Read what?" Harley asks.
"Never mind." All around me, eyes follow my every move.
"Look," I say loudly. "I know I look different. But I'm just a person, like you." I hold my head up high, looking them all in the eyes, trying to hold their stares for as long as possible.
"You tell 'em," says Harley with another Cheshire grin. ~ Beth Revis

I'll be right here. Good luck, or break a leg, or something."
As Jay and Gregory turned and headed into the crowd, my traitorous eyes returned to the corner and found another pair or eyes staring darkly back.
I dropped my gaze for three full seconds, and then lifted my eyes again, hesitant. The drummer was still staring at me, oblivious to the three girls trying to win back his attention. He put up one finger at the girls and said something that looked like, "Excuse me."
Oh, my goodness. Was he...? Oh, no. Yes, he was walking this way.
My nerves shot into high alert. I looked around, but nobody else was near. When I looked back up, there he was, standing right in front of me. Good gracious, he was sexy-a word that had not existed in my personal vocabulary until that moment. This guy was sexy like it was his job or something.
He looked straight into my eyes, which threw me off guard, because nobody ever looked me in the eye like that. Maybe Patti and Jay, but they didn't hold my stare like he was doing now. He didn't look away, and I found that I couldn't take my gaze off those blue eyes.
"Who are you?" he asked in a blunt, almost confrontational way.
I blinked. It was the strangest greeting I'd ever received.
"I'm...Anna."
"Right. Anna. How very nice." I tried to focus on his words and not his luxuriously accented voice, which made everything sound lovely. He leaned in closer. "But who are you?"
What did that mean? Did I need ~ Wendy Higgins

These days, there are so few pure country people left on the concession roads that we may be in need of a new category of membership, much as sons and daughters of veterans are now allowed to join the Legion. A few simple questions could be asked, a small fee paid and (assuming that the answers are correct) you could be granted the status of an "almost local." Here are some of the questions you might be asked: Do you have just one suit for weddings and funerals? Do you save plastic buckets? Do you leave your car doors unlocked at all times? Do you have an inside dog and an outside dog? Has your outside dog never been to town? When you pass a neighbour in the car, do you wave from the elbow or do you merely raise one finger from the steering wheel? Do you have trouble keeping the car or truck going in a straight line because you are looking at crops or livestock? Do you sometimes find yourself sitting in the car in the middle of a dirt road chatting with a neighbour out the window while other cars take the ditch to get around you? Can you tell whose tractor is going by without looking out the window? Can people recognize you from three hundred yards away by the way you walk or the tilt of your hat? If somebody honks their horn at you, do you automatically smile and wave? Do most of your conversations open with some observation about the weather? Is your most important news source the store in the village? Have you had surgery in the local hospital? If you hear about a death or ~ Dan Needles

First rule of seduction. At least one of us has to get naked. Preferably you," he murmured.
Nervous apprehension replaced some of the excitement. It was silly. He'd seen her naked. Many times. They'd made love before. But for her it was like the first time all over again.
"Hey," he said softly. He drew away and tucked a finger under her chin, prompting her to look up at him. "We'll take this as slow as you need. If I could make love to you with you fully clothed, I'd do it, but I think we both know that's not an option."
She giggled and felt some of her unease leave her.
"Let's not take it too slow or we'll both be old and decrepit before we ever make love."
"Mmm, I plan to make love to you until they put me in the grave. That's what they make Viagra for."
She leaned into him and hugged him fiercely as another laugh escaped.
"Make you a deal. We undress together. Last one naked is a rotten egg."
She yanked away as she said the last and immediately began peeling her clothes off.
"Oh hell no," he sputtered. "Maybe you don't remember what a competitive family you married into."
"While you're talking, I'm getting naked," she taunted.
A wicked glint sparked in his eyes. "I fail to see how I lose either way. ~ Maya Banks

Standing up through the Citroen's open sunroof, my six-foot-three-inch, red-cheeked sister pointed a long, trembling finger at the perpetrator and with maximum indignation yelled: 'Ce merde-monsieur a justement crache dans ma derriere!' Her intended meaning is obvious, but what she said was, 'This shit-man just spat out into my butt! ~ Julia Child

Franny?" Rosy held up the four little Franks. "Could I keep one of these?"
Franny looked at her hard for a moment then nodded. "'Course you can, hen," she said, "But that's not your daddy."
Rosy gaped. "It's not?"
"That's my wee darling. That's my wee Frankie before the devil twisted him into a monster." She poked her finger into another hole where Frank's face should have been. Her eyes glinted. ~ R.G. Manse

If he didn't drag you into the closest dressing room and make you see God, you sucked at flirting." Ariel points her finger at me as I swipe at my chin with the back of my hand. "Men are dumb. You need to speak in slow, short sentences and be direct. Don't beat around the bush or he'll never beat inside your bush. ~ Tara Sivec

Audiences will see what they want to see. Some will come out, hopefully enjoying two hours of action. Some people will find themselves gravitating towards the emotional dilemma that the characters find themselves in. Other people will see that there is some layer of subversions to the storytelling aspect of poking a finger of judgment at certain governments to the idea of foreign invasion, others maybe false pretenses. ~ Colin Farrell

See! those fiendish lineaments graven on the darkness, the writhed lip of scorn, the mockery of that living eye, the pointed finger, touching the sore place in your heart! Do you remember any act of enormous folly, at which you would blush, even in the remotest cavern of the earth? Then recognize your Shame. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

How did you meet him?" I asked her.
She smiled. "Here, actually. During a dinner rush. He was sitting at the counter and Isabel knocked a cup of coffee in his lap."
"Ouch," I said.
"No kidding. She was so slammed she just kept moving, so I cleaned it up and made all the apologies. He said it was okay,, no problem, and I laughed and said pretty girls get away with anything." She looked down, twisting her ring a bit so the diamond sat in the centre of her finger, "And he smiled, and looked at Isabel, and said she wasn't his type."
There was a faint cheer from the stadium, and I saw a ball whiz over the far fence and out of sight.
"And so," she went on, "I said, "Oh really? What is your type, exactly?" and he looked up at me and said, "You. ~ Sarah Dessen

You're dying right now. Right this minute.' He looked at his watch, said, 'Right this second,' then tapped it with his finger. 'See there? That second passed. It's gone. Not gonna come again. And while I'm talking to you, every second I'm talking, a second is passing. Gone. Count them up. Count them down. They're gone. Each one bringing you closer to your dying time. ~ Billie Letts

When she was a girl, and still growing, ravenous, whenever there had been a cake – a sponge cake, dusted with sugar, which Mrs Hill had conjured up out of eggs and flour and creamy butter – Sarah would never even let herself look at it, because she knew that it was not for her. Instead, she would carry it upstairs to be rendered into crumbs, and the crumbs lifted from the plate by a moistened Bennet finger, and the empty smeared plate carried back again. So Sarah would stare instead at the carpet underneath her feet, or at the painting of a horse with a strangely small head that hung at the end of the hall, or the rippled yellow curtains in the parlour, and would do her best not to breathe, not to inhale the scent of vanilla or lemon or almonds; even to glance at the cake was an impossible agony.
And for months, she realized, James had hardly looked at her at all. ~ Jo Baker

When somebody throws something out the car window, honk at them, but don't give them the finger. We've got to temper our negative feelings about people who desecrate the environment. ~ Letitia Baldrige

She asks, and something in your head tells you that what she's doing is right – and that it's the only reason she has to live. She asked me to die defending her – knowing I didn't even like her much. Quick, for the rest of my life, I will never forget that moment.'
'And you still can't quite work out what happened.'
The assassin nodded. 'All at once, it's as if she's somehow laid bare your soul and there it is, exposed, trembling, vulnerable beyond all belief – and she could take it, grasp it tight until the blood starts dripping. She could even stab it right through. But she didn't – she didn't do any of that, Quick. She reached down, her finger hovered, and then … gone, as if that was all she needed.'
'You can stop now,' the wizard muttered. 'What you're talking about – between two people – it almost never happens. Maybe it's what we all want, but Kalam, it almost never happens.'
'There was no respect in what Laseen offered,' the assassin said. 'It was a raw bribe, reaching for the worst in me. But from Tavore …'
'Nothing but respect. Now I see it, Kal. I see it. ~ Steven Erikson

No, you love to confuse me and drive me crazy. You don't really love me. You don't know what love is."
"Yeah, I think I do." His brows lowered, and he took a step toward her. "I have loved you my whole life, Delaney. I can't remember a day when I didn't love you. I loved you the day I practically knocked you out with a snowball. I loved you when I flattened the tires on your bike so I could walk you home. I loved you when I saw you hiding behind the sunglasses at the Value Rite, and I loved you when you loved that loser son of a bitch Tommy Markham. I never forgot the smell of your hair or the texture of your skin the night I laid you on the hood of my car at Angel Beach. So don't tell me I don't love you. Don't tell me
" His voice shook and he pointed a finger at her. "Just don't tell me that. ~ Rachel Gibson

I regret that he didn't do anything about it, even though he was at least a head taller than me. I wouldn't have minded bleeding at all for one more opportunity to give the kind of Bat Lesson that Finger, Robinson, Sprang and others only dreamed of. ~ Jim Steranko

Miss Bridgerton," he said, "the devil himself couldn't scare you."

She forced her eyes to meet his. "That's not a compliment, is it?"

He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss across her knuckles. "You'll have to figure that out for yourself," he murmured.

To all who observed, he was the soul of propriety, but Hyacinth caught the daring gleam in his eye, and she felt the breath leave her body as tingles of electricity rushed across her skin. Her lips parted, but she had nothing to say, not a single word. There was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.

And then he straightened as if nothing had happened and said, "Do let me know what you decide."

She just stared at him.

"About the compliment," he added. "I am sure you will wish to let me know how I feel about you."

Her mouth fell open.

He smiled. Broadly. "Speechless, even. I'm to be commended."

"You - "

"No. No," he said, lifting one hand in the air and pointing toward her as if what he really wanted to do was place his finger on her lips and shush her. "Don't ruin it. The moment is too rare. ~ Julia Quinn

Hold a baseball in your hand ... Feel the ball, turn it over in your hand; hold it across the seam or the other way, with the seam just to the side of your middle finger. Speculation stirs. You want to get outdoors and throw this spare and sensual object to somebody or, at the very least, watch somebody else throw it. The game has begun. ~ Roger Angell

They have concluded that it is their duty to rush forward on their journey no matter what the weather; I, on the other hand, am for waiting for favourable wind and current. They are for risking all for God at the snap of a finger; I am for taking advantage of every opportunity to secure my life and estate. They are for holding to their ideas even though all the world would be against them; I, however, am for religion insofar as the times, conditions, and my safety allow it. They are for religion when walking in rags and abuse; I am for it when it walks in silver slippers, in sunshine, and with applause. ~ Cheryl Ford

I'm so ashamed." Livia felt blood filling her mouth again.
Chris pointed a shaky finger at her. "You should be ashamed. It's about time."
"I'm ashamed of you, Chris," Livia said fiercely. "I'm ashamed I ever let you touch me. I should have saved myself for Blake." She topped off her statement by heaving bloody spit into Chris's face. ~ Debra Anastasia

For the first time the Don showed annoyance. He poured another glass of anisette and drank it down. He pointed a finger at his son. "You want to learn," he said. "Now listen to me. A man's first duty is to keep himself alive. Then comes what everyone else calls honor. This dishonor, as you call it, I willingly take upon myself. I did it to save your life as you once took on dishonor to save mine. You would have never left Sicily alive without Don Croce's protection. So be it. Do you want to be a hero like Guiliano, a legend? And dead? I love him as the son of my dear friends, but I do not envy him his fame. You are alive and he is dead. Always remember that and live your life not be be a hero but to remain alive. With time, heroes seem a little foolish."

Michael sighed. "Guiliano had no choice," he said.

"We are more fortunate," the Don said.

It was the first lesson Michael received from his father and the one he learned best. It was to color his future life, persuade him to make terrible decisions he could never have dreamed of making before. It changed his perception of honor and heroism. It helped him survive, but it made him unhappy. For despite the fact that his father did not envy Guiliano, Michael did. ~ Mario Puzo

You're crazy," Ludovico announced. Alessandro held his finger in the air. "Ah!" he said, "but at least I'm able to tell you my last name, and at least, when they take me out to the stake my dreams may be just beginning, whereas yours, by your own definition, must and will come to a dark end." "You fool yourself. Your illusions will fall away even before the end. They won't do you any good. You'll see. ~ Mark Helprin

The Simi gots some barbecue sauce in her bag. It kind of looks like blood if you squint at it the right way. And it don't coagulate between your teeth like blood or give you them funky burps, not to mention it tastes a lot better too. Especially over that type A stuff. Bleh! I'd rather eat my shoes. But that O-flavored blood ... yum! (She straightened and held one finger up in a gesture that strangely reminded him of Smokey the Bear.) And just remember, kids, three out of four demons all prefer barbecue sauce over hemoglobin. (Simi) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Sit down," she ordered Peabody.

"I prefer to stand."

"And I prefer to give you a good boot in the ass, but I'm restraining myself." Eve reached up, fisted her hands in her own hair and yanked until the pain cleared most of the rage.

"Okay, stand. You couldn't sit with that stick up your butt, anyway. One you shove up it every time Subject Monroe, Charles, is mentioned. You want to be filled in, you want to be briefed? Fine. Here it is."

She had to take another deep breath to insure her tone was professional. "On the evening of March twenty-six, at or about nineteen-thirty, I, accompanied by Roarke, had occasion to visit Areena Mansfield's penthouse suite at The Palace Hotel, this city. Upon entering said premises, investigation officer found subject Mansfield in the company of one Charles Monroe, licensed companion. It was ascertained and confirmed that LC Monroe was there in a professional capacity and had no links to the deceased or the current investigation. His presence, and the salient details pertaining to it, were noted in the report of the interview and marked Level Five in a stupid, ill-conceived attempt by the investigating officer to spare her fat-headed aide any unnecessary embarrassment."

Eve stomped back to her desk, snatched up her coffee, gulped some down. "Record that," she snapped.

Peabody's lip trembled. She sat. She sniffled.

"Oh, no." In genuine panic, Eve stabbed out a finger. " ~ J.D. Robb

The Fool, the Zero card, dressed in motley, dazzled face to the sky, foot about to come off the cliff. Pierrot. It wasn't Michael at all. It was her. You fool ... And which one was he? The Magician? She'd thought he was. She'd thought he had it all lined up. The world spinning on his little finger. Or else the Hermit with his lantern, looking for the true world. But no, here he was. The twelfth card. The Hanged Man. Lashed upside down to his cross tree. Unable to go backward or forward ~ Janet Fitch