Escape plan number seventeen,” I told her. “Run away and open a juice stand in Fresno.””Why Fresno?””Sounds like the kind of place people drink a lot of juice.

Once the orange juice wears off, I might be drunk. I love vodka.

I wash my hands in the blood of grapefruit. Come, drink with me.

Juice is a poor man’s dessert.

Drink my Distraction Juice (not from concentrate). It tastes like love, only not so focused on just one ingredient.

You know, it’s never wise to tempt the devil”His gaze lowered to her hand, still locked in his grip, her finger glistening with pear juice.His rich voice lowered to raw huskiness “had I not this mask, I should be of a mind to suck that juice right off your fingers