Love the hair. Love when it’s out of control. It’s like seeing a side of you that needs to come out more often.

Nice costume," he said. "Ditto. I can tell you put alot of though into yours." Amusement curled his mouth. "If you don't like it, I can take it off." I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "That just might be the best proposal I've had all night." "My offers are always the best, Angel.

Does this have anything to do with the unit we’re studying? Because I can’t find anything about desired characteristics of a mate anywhere in our text.

You picked the seats you did for a reason, right? Familiarity. Too bad the best sleuths avoid familiarity. It dulls the investigative instinct.

I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life. You haunted me to the point that I began to believe Hank had gone back on his oath and killed you. I couldn't escape you and I didn't want to. You tortured me, but it was better than losing you.

Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside.

Hank had left me his doomed army, and he’d left Marcie his inheritance. Unfair didn’t begin to cover it.