Vamps were homebodies—high-maintenance, party-till-you-die, don’t-look-at-me-funny-or-I’ll-kill-you homebodies, but homebodies nevertheless.
Trent was positively smug. Showing me his back, he rifled through a rack of earth charms and watched his hair shift color. And whereas I might otherwise object— Bairn did the investigation on your par...
Trent sighed, visibly bothered at my admittedly childish behavior, but I was hot, damn it, and needed money, and therefore I was vulnerable to his bribes and his air-conditioned car.
Trent gave me a weary look. Always seeing the best in a person, Ms. Morgan?Yeah. Except with you.
To the only man I’d make butterscotch pudding for
To the guy who finishes my sentences and gets my jokes. Even the lame ones.
Tink's a Disney whore!- Jenks
The seraph looked up, and pain sliced through my head as our eyes met, almost blinding me. I honor you. You can do something I cannot, it said softly. For all I am and all I have been, you are human....
The only thing between your head and my foot becoming real close and personal right now is my questionable professionalism.
The coffee smelled wonderful, and as it went chattering into a mug,
The coat was a remnant from his stint at being people-size. I’d gotten his jacket, Ivy had gotten his silk robe, and we’d thrown out his two dozen toothbrushes.
Tell me where you want it, I said. Minias drew back, his purple robes shifting about his ankles. You’re asking me? Well, unless you want a big R on your forehead.
Sure, he had a wife and fifty-four kids, but he looked like a college freshman. A yummy college freshman majoring in Oh-my-god-I-gotta-get-me-some-of-that.
Silly little vamp, afraid of her feelings.
She was the most private person I knew, not even telling herself what her feelings were until she found a logical reason to justify them.
She was only a year old, but elves grew up fast. Not like witches, who Jenks swore were not able to be on their own until they were thirty. Ahem.
Rachel, came a raspy voice from the upper level, and both Trent and I turned. It was Quen, wrapped in a blanket as if it was a death shroud, the black-haired intern at his side, supporting him. His ha...
Rachel, what do you do? Put an ad in the paper for trouble?(Glenn)
Past him was Trent, a tired look on his face. Holding my borrowed shawl close, I watched Jonathan as I slid out. Why, thank you, Jon, I said brightly, you freaking bastard.Trent ducked his head, hidin...
Okay, I said, resettling myself and looking up.You need the thrill of danger flitted through my mind, and I quashed it.