You should get married more often," Loki teased. "It makes you feisty.

You really do hate me, don't you? I mean, destroying someone's ice-cream cone? That's vicious." Her cheeks reddened. "I didn't see you there. Honestly." She wiped at his shirt more frantically, as if she could prevent it from staining if she rubbed hard enough. "Oh, now I see your plan, and it's far more devious than I thought." Daniel smirked. "You were looking for an excuse to grope me.

I've taken every writing class I've had available. I took classes in high school, and I took English and writing classes in community college, but I dropped out of college. I also attended a local writing workshop two years ago.

You're killing me here! You are far more dangerous than I am!

I want to be a writer. I do not want to spend 40 hours a week handling e-mails, formatting covers, finding editors, etc.

You don't want me here, I don't wanna be here, so why am I here?

He hadn’t been peeping intentionally; he’d been trying to sneak into my room. So that was slightly less creepy, I supposed.