Eric, what are you doing?" "Snuggling." "Get out of my bed!" -Sookie Stackhouse, Eric Northman

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

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.

You take I-55 south, and you'll run into I-20. Or you could take..." I was about to be overloaded with information. "Oh that sounds just perfect. Let me do just that, or I'll lose track." Sure, glad I could help." Oh, you surely did." We beamed at each other, just two nice women. I had to fight an impulse to say "I have a tortured vampire in my trunk," out of sheer giddiness.

Who wants a bag of bones?” he said, with absolute sincerity. “I don’t want to hurt myself on the sharp edges of the woman I’m bedding.

We could go back to your house. I can stay with you always. We can know each others bodies in every way, night after night. I could love you. I could work, you would not be poor. I would help you.

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.