With a resigned shrug, she screamed and collapsed into a faint. She stayed resolutely fainted, despite the liberal application of smelling salts, which made her eyes water most tremendously, a cramp in the back of one knee, and the fact that her new ball gown was getting most awfully wrinkled.

Lord Maccon asked meekly, shifting against her in a manner that ensured she realized the nibbling had affected his outsides just as much as her insides. Alexia was partly shocked, partly intrigued by the idea that as he was naked, she might actually get to see what he looked like. She had seen sketches of the nude male, of course, for purely technical purposes. She was given to wonder if werewolves were anatomically bigger in certain areas.

It'll all end in tears and oil.

She moved with such purpose it was as though she walked with exclamation marks.

I may be a werewolf and Scottish, but despite what you may have read about both, we are not cads!

These feelings you engender in me, my lord, are most indelicate. You should stop causing them immediately.

Uh, my lord, I am not actually food. You do realize this, yes?