Bitch."
"Slut."
"Whore."
"Cunt."
I kicked Joyce in the shin. I draw the line at cunt.

Prostitute. Whore. What did they really mean anyway? Only words. Words trailing their streamers of judgment. I hated labels anyway. People didn't fit in slots-- prostitute, housewife, saint-- like sorting the mail. We were so mutable, fluid with fear and desire, ideals and angles, changeable as water.

Does that new man in your life call his ex "a slut", "a whore", "a bitch", "psycho" , "crazy", "a nutter" etc etc. Chances are, whatever he's calling his ex right now, he'll be calling you when things don't go his way. Be warned.

I wasn't always a writer. When I went to college and majored in fine arts, I was a painter. Then I was a stay-at-home mom.

'Plum's are probably the funniest, but all the books have their own degree of humor. But if you're hooked into 'Ranger,' you're reading it for the romance.

You gonna take the case?"

It's not a case. It's a missing person. Sort of."

You're gonna have a devil of a time finding him if it was aliens," Grandma said.