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.

I looked to the window. Patch was gone, but a single black feather was pressed to the outer pane, held in place by last night's rain. Or Angel Magic

But if the choice I have to make comes down to you or me, I choose you. I always have. All my love, Patch

reading a good book in silence is like eating chocolate for the rest of your life and never getting fat.

Touch her,” he said in Scott’s ear, his voice low and threatening, “and it’ll be the biggest regret of your life.

Vee scowled at him. She is famous for that scowl. It's a look that does everything but audibly hiss.

That’s an unfortunate place for a birthmark,” I said, more than a little unnerved that it was so similarly positioned to my own scar. Patch casually but noticeably slid his sleeve down over his wrist. “You’d prefer it someplace more private?” “I wouldn’t prefer it anywhere.” I wasn’t sure how this sounded and tried again. “I wouldn’t care if you didn’t have it at all.” I tried a third time. “I don’t care about your birthmark, period.