Ha," I said. "Oh, ha-ha. Yeah, ’cause they love me. You see how many vampires are up here? Zero, right?" One," said Eric, stepping out of the stairwell.

Vampires. They wrote the book on possessive.

That's just not right," Sam muttered. "Claude needs to keep his pants on.

I gripped the stapler even harder and felt like a fool planning to battle a crazy man with a stapler that even, I suddenly remembered, contained no staples. Well, strike that line of defense.

Well, that's certainly... adequate," I told him, burying my face in his chest. I knew immediately I'd picked the wrong word. "Adequate?" He took my hand, placed it on the part in question. It immediately began to stir. He moved my hand on it, and I obligingly circled it with my fingers. "This is adequate?" "Maybe I should have said it's a gracious plenty?" "A gracious plenty. I like that," he said.

It's hard not to respond when a master of the art of kissing is laying one on you.

For awhile I taped soap operas and watched them at night when I thought I might be forgetting what it was like to be human. After a while I stopped, because from the examples I saw on those shows, forgetting humanity was a good thing.