I threw my hands up. Men. They were impossible to reason with.
My body is the only thing that's truly mine, so I don't give it away as though it's worthless.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I was going to squirt tears. How unprofessional.
Got any stock tips? I couldn't help but ask. The government doesn't pay shit for.
A hint of a frown touched his mouth. I told you that wasn't about feeding.
That's how two vampires, a medium, and a dog came to sit around a Ouija board in the back room of a floral shop.
Isn't he gorgeous? With those rolls, the wet-sounding grunts, bulbous wiggly tail, and smashed face—not to mention the fart the dog let out once he situated himself—he was gorgeous in a way that only a parent could appreciate.
Just because death would eventually separate us, that didn't mean it would destroy what we had. I am forever yours, in this life or the next. Some things could penetrate even the formidable barrier of death, and love was one of them.
I despise flowery speech since those who use it are usually guilty of the worst betrayals later. That and the type of life I've lived have made me incapable of saying the pretty words you deserve to hear, yet if I made you a vampire, you'd feel my emotions as clearly as I hear your thoughts now.
The last ghouls I'd met had tried to eat me, and not in the romantic way.
Kitten, you need to make a decision. Either we stay here and behave or we leave now and I promise you—his voice dipped lower and the words fell against my lips—if we leave, I won't behave.
Whoever said 'Don't play with your food' sure hadn't been a vampire.
It was as if you reached inside and claimed something that had always been yours.
Movies. Drinks. Headless chickens. You know, girl stuff.
I was going to die, but I didn't have to grovel.
Ian, Mencheres said in a chiding tone. You should have at least gotten dressed.
Maybe I was worrying for nothing. Maybe it had just been casual for him, and I wouldn't even have to tell him it couldn't happen again. After all, the man was a couple hundred years older than me and a former gigolo. I certainly hadn't robbed him of his virginity.
Why did he have to be so gorgeous? Why did he have to stand so close, and why did I still love him so much?
Well just call me Hannibal Lecter. With cleavage.
Is that a stake, Bones, or are you just happy with my new dress?
You! You tricked me! I never want to see you or that bottle of liquid arsenic again!
I can give you honesty, monogamy, and more passion than you can stand, but not love. That emotion died in me long ago, as I suspect you already know.
Why would I seek to break your heart?
I can't wait to find out how you taste, and you won't want me to stop even after I've completely exhausted you. You'll think you were on fire, your skin will burn. I'll suck all of your juices out of you. And then I'll drink your blood.
How about I let you floss with my jugular as well?
I don't care what you think, your junk does not have special abilities.
Or for the gorgeously bare vampire to give her a sensual massage while feeding her peeled grapes.
Why does everyone think being cryptic is cool? I wondered.
Sometimes you have to lose everything to know what you had.
It's alright, Kitten, Bones said. He won't shoot.
Yes, but you are still only human.
You're mine, he breathed against my neck when his lips left mine to travel lower. Forever. Say it. I'm yours, I swore, the words ragged from passion. Forever. Now, take me and prove it.
Unfortunately, stain removal methods was one of those troublesome subjects somewhere between relationship issues and mysterious car noises. Everybody was an expert, everybody had a cure, and they all fell over themselves to offer their advice.
Of course he wouldn't hesitate before trying something that had never been done before. He was Vlad Tepesh. How could he fail?
There's more to all of us. Yet most times, we still only see what we expect to see.
Why do you bother, Crispin? You married a fighter, so stop trying to convince her that the sidelines suit her better.
Paranormal fiction offers authors - and readers - the chance to answer the question, 'What if?' All the different ways that question can be answered make for extremely entertaining reading.
This is our true tie," he whispered, his breath falling hotly onto my lips. "You're meant for me, and I will have you.
You're not a woman," he said finally. "You're the Grim Reaper with red hair!
Well, what did I expect? S&M didn't stand for soft and mushy?
I want to know all of you, Kitten. What you show me, and what you try not to.
Bones, I sighed. Know something? I'm not afraid of you, but you scare.
There is only one way to fight, and that's dirty. Clean, gentlemanly fighting will get you nowhere but dead, and fast. Take every cheap shot, every low blow, absolutely kick people when they're down, and then maybe you'll be the one who walks away. Remember that.
Rodney the ghoul?...Oh, I liked him. He didn't get angry no matter how many times my mother insulted him.
I didn't understand, either, but love had no sense sometimes. Pondering the why of it was futile.
Let's go, Kitten, before you kill someone else. -Bones.
Get off, luv, I'm high as a bloody kite. No telling what I'll do.
What a real bitch, Catherine. You should kill her.
