Marissa took a sip from a glass of water. It’s perfectly innocent. I’m doing a naked calendar, the fallen angel started. He had a jockstrap on. It was all done with a selfie stick.
Life’s meant to be lived blind—that’s how you don’t take shit for granted.
Life is such a glorious trauma, is it not? - Wrath
Letting go meant you accepted what couldn't be changed. You didn't try to hold on to hope in order to coerce a change in fortune...nor did you battle against superior forces of fate and try to make th...
Let's take my truck, Jim said as he hit the gravel. Less noise.And it has a radio, right? With tragic concentration Adrian started warming up his voice, sounding like a moose being backstroked by a ch...
Lassiter walked in like he owned the place, that swagger back in full force, his smile as wide and naughty as ever, his blond and black hair marked with fresh snowflakes. As Tohr and Autumn stared at...
Justlikethat, the brother dematerialized out of the alley, and Rhage knew better than to think that the pair of them would ever speak of it again. And man, that was so V—the SOB was capable of great k...
Just be careful with my damn dog. That animal gets hurt and you and I are having words. Well,
I’m stuck in the fucking chimney. She
I’m getting really fucking tired of being manhandled like this! Wrath hollered. Tohr
I’ll talk with him. I may be out of the Brotherhood, but your delivery sucks.I’m not that bad.Compared to a chainsaw, that’s probably true.
It was a universal truth among males that anytime you saw a guy get it in the nuts, you experienced a shot of phantom pain in your own croquet set.
It was a state of mind—and nothing put a female there faster than the male she wanted staring at her the way Xcor was now.
It was a good death. A very good death. She closed her eyes, and an hour later she gasped twice and let out one long exhale, as if her body were sighing in relief as her soul flew free of its corporea...
It was a farewell. Not a good-bye, but a fare...well. and he had the sense they would.
It was Zsadist. His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang. The scarred one, the soulless one, had the voice of an angel.
Isn’t it wonderful not to have to be perfect to be loved?
Is it my turn yet? Lassiter asked over the earpiece. I was born ready for this. Of all the people who could be immortal, V muttered, why are you one of them? Because I’m awwwwwesome, the fallen angel...
In the center was a tiny handprint in red paint.
If you love me, you will save yourself the now. Do not so willingly put your death on my conscience. As