My eyes flew open, and I pushed back against rock-hard shoulders. I let out a little squeak of horror. "It's me," said a familiar voice. ..."Eric, what are you doing here?" "Snuggling.

Men! Dead or alive, they could be exactly the same.

It was beautiful Eric, who desired me, who was hungry for me, in a world that often let me know it could do very well without me.

People are really interested in the concept of eternal youth in this plastic-surgery culture.

Angelic Sookie, vision of love and beauty, I am prostrate that the wicked evil maenad violated your smooth and voluptuous body, in an attempt to deliver a message to me. -Eric

It's probably a bad indicator of your lifestyle when you miss your ex-boyfriend because he's absolutely lethal.

Eric moved the broom experimentally and made an attempt to sweep the glass into the pan while it lay in the middle of the floor. Of course, the pan slid away. Eric scowled. I'd finally found something Eric did poorly.