Home > Topic > Cajun
1 " When you meet someone so different from yourself, in a good way, you don't even have to kiss to have fireworks go off. It's like fireworks in your heart all the time. I always wondered, do opposites really attract? Now I know for sure they do. I'd grown up going to the library as often as most people go to the grocery store. Jackson didn't need to read about exciting people or places. He went out and found them, or created excitement himself if there wasn't any to be found. The things I like are pretty simple. Burning CDs around themes, like Songs to Get You Groove On and Tunes to Fix a Broken Heart; watching movies; baking cookies; and swimming. It's like I was a salad with a light vinaigrette, and Jackson was a platter of seafood Cajun pasta. Alone, we were good. Together, we were fantastic. "
― Lisa Schroeder , I Heart You, You Haunt Me
2 " «I’ve never been to a funeral until today. I see dazzling arrangements of red, yellow, and purple flowers with long, green stems. I see a stained-glass window with a white dove, a yellow sun, a blue sky. I see a gold cross, standing tall, shiny, brilliant. And I see black. Black dresses. Black pants. Black shoes. Black bibles. Black is my favorite color. Jackson asked me about it one time.“Ava, why don’t you like pink? Or yellow? Or blue?” ”I love black,” I said. ”It suits me.” ”I suit you,” he said. I’m not so sure I love black anymore.And then, beyond the flowers, beneath the stained-glass window, beside the cross, I see the white casket. I see red, burning love disappear forever. As we pull away, my eyes stay glued to the casket. It’s proof that sometimes life does not go on. I look around. If tears could bring him back, there’d be enough to bring him back a hundred times. That’s not what I’m thinking. I’m thinking, I hate good-byes. It’s like I was a garden salad with a light vinaigrette, and Jackson was a platter of seafood Cajun pasta. Alone, we were good. Together, we were fantastic.Memories might keep him alive. But they might kill me.» "
3 " We can do slow and sweet later. I want you fast and rough, and I've been begging for a while now." She hooked a leg around his, bringing their bodies together as close as possible. " If you missed the memo, buddy, I've been trying to get you inside me half the day." With a low groan, he picked her up and lowered her to the bed, his mouth and tongue setting up a rhythm to match the fingers he slid inside her. " Not that," she said. " You. Now." " Bossy Cajun woman." He gave her a tousle-haired, lopsided grin as he rolled into the cradle of her thighs, positioning himself at her 'entrance... "
4 " How ’bout you take this Cajun injector here,” I say, gripping the steel rod in his shorts, “and give me a shot of protein instead. "
― Heather M. Orgeron , Boomerangers
