Finally, I drew in a long breath. It was noisy and painful and just heaven.

Come on, lover, let's have a look," Eric said, giving me a quick kiss. He jumped off the back porch with me still attached to him—like a large barnacle

Sookie, what have we done? And to whom?" "I killed a chicken. And I cooked it." "Sookie, Sookie. My bullshit meter is reading that as a false." -Eric Northman, Sookie Stackhouse

My gran had always told me that a woman--any woman worth her salt--could do whatever she had to.

Then was ashamed of myself. I should be happy for what I'd been given. I hoped God hadn't noticed my lapse in appreciation.

He pulled my coat off my shoulders, looked at it with distaste, hung it on the back of one of the chairs pushed in under the kitchen table. "You are beautiful". No one had ever looked me in the eyes and said that. Eric to Sookie, Page 208.

I don't write the kind of 'happily ever after' that romance readers enjoy.