“She's got a big belt around her hips. It has a shiny buckle with PRADA on it, which is Italian for insecure.”

“It's Mari, Jack," Ken whispered, needing to say it aloud. "What?" Jack jerked around, staring at the sniper as the eyes fluttered closed. "Are you certain?"Ken pulled the woman's belt loose and buckled it around her leg. "Either that or your wife is playing sniper for the other team. It has to be Mari. She looks exactly like Briony.”

“Mrs. Bonneville never buckled her seat belt, even though it was required by state law; an ardent libertarian, she opposed government meddling in all matters of personal choice.”

“She's got those big black eyes with plenty shiny white in them that makes them shine like brand new money and she knows what God gave women eyelashes for, too. Her hair is not what you might call straight. It's negro hair, but it's got a kind of white flavor. Like the piece of string out of a ham. It's not ham at all, but it's been around ham and got the flavor.”

“She was a full lipped and hipped italian tomato with Rome burning in her eyes. She had the look of a carnival in Rio, or Mardi Gras in New Orleans, or bullfights in Spain, or Saturday night in my apartment.”

“She closed tight around him, pulsing. Rico’s fingers dug into her hips. His movements quickened and he found his rhythm. She wrapped her legs around his hips as his body arched, tensed and shuddered with his own release.Someone growled. Him, her, she didn’t know. Her blood pounded so hard and loud in her head she couldn’t be sure.”