Vonnie Davis

The little woman, wearing a pink and black zigzag-striped pantsuit over a black turtleneck, resembled a skinny zebra who'd OD'd on Pepto-Bismol.

He was so damn hard, he could chip the ice from his truck's windshield with his rigid pecker.

A bear! I've landed on a wild and wicked bear!

He held his crotch, his knees bent and his kilt showing he wore nothing beneath it.She shuffled from one foot to the other as she stared at his Scottish bagpipe. Bet he could hit a lot of high notes with that thing. "You...you startled me when you grabbed me like that.""Well, ye needna be afraid now. I couldna molest ya, even if I wanted to, which I dinna.I'm betting foreplay with ye would be like grabbing hold of an electrical wire while sitting in a tub of water." He groaned and cussed some more. "Hell, I bet yer vagina is lined with shark's teeth.

I think...I shall call ye Beauty, for I shall be yer beast.

She placed her fingertips on her forehead as if trying to gather her thoughts on how to handle this unexpected scenario. "Do not run from a bear. Make yourself a large target and yell to scare the bear away. Bears are easily frightened unless it's mating season." "Oh, wouldn't it be just my horrible luck to fall on a horny bear?

She leaned her uninjured shoulder against his plump, furry behind and shoved while she bitched to herself, "Four years at the military academy, two years at Kansas State University, survival camp in the swamps of Alabama, more schooling in Florida, and then torture endurance training with the Mossad and all so I could heave a bear's ass into a helicopter. Unfreaking real.

Months ago, he'd told Effie, grandmother to his eldest brother's wife, that he was too busy to find a woman. He went on to brag he was quite happy being alone. That the only way he'd even consider a woman was if she dropped from the feckin' sky.He groaned and downed his first cup of coffee. Him and his big whisky loosened tongue.

Do ye always drool like that? Is it a family trait, lass?

Ye have taught me something I never understood.""What? How to get rid of Parisian Pink Pecker Disease?

Driving a stolen plane will be nothing compared to the ride with a fired-up Scot.

What the feckin' hell is PMS, I'd like to ken?""Petty Male Shit," she yelled.

Have ye ever known a female who wasna a bit of a witch in her own sweet way?

In unison, they recited an ancient rhyme. "With one blue eye to rule the sky, An eye of brown controls the ground; Magic swirls within our souls, Cryptic, mystic, spiritualistic, To protect the weak from evil's effect, Elements guide us, ever bind us. A band of witches scattered wide From Warlock Morpheus we must hide.

Och, my potion is boiling. I need to say good night and keep an eye on the pot. Ye canna overboil newt's eyeballs.

She tugged on his hair. "I'll have you know I'm no weakling." He grinned and kissed her forehead. "No, it takes a strong woman to kill a truck.

Her breathing hitched and his all but seized in his lungs for the want of her, the taste of her, the feel of her under his hands. His lips whispered against the curve of hers, where her cheek ended and her very sexy mouth began.

You always were the hot head. You got a temper in you that can't be tamed, yet you also got a soft spot for stray dogs, kids in trouble and damsels in distress. See why folks label you a complex conundrum.