Lord Maccon reflected upon the state of his life wherein he had somehow gained a spouse who could not give a pig's foot for the latest dresses out of Paris but who whined about not owning an aethographic transmitter. Well, at least the two were comparable obsessions so far as expense was concerned.

I suspect it may be like the difference between a drinker and an alcoholic; the one merely reads books, the other needs books to make it through the day.

At such close range, even she could hit a vampire full force in the shoulder, surprising him considerably. He paused in his attack. “Well, my word! You can’t threaten me, you’re pregnant!

Follow that porcupine!

He dinna act like an Alpha." "He does in some areas.

I do not giggle without purpose. Lady Linette says you should never misapply a giggle.

Floote, what is going on? Do they think I am contagious? Should I assure them I was born with a nose this size?