He would have been handsome—in a serial-killer kind of way—if not for those tattoos.

I looked around, counting the competition. Sixteen. To win, all I had to do was incapacitate each one, place my hand over their hearts and turn my palm into a flame. Easy. Yeah right.

Apparently, dancing for him and throwing herself at him weren't enough. Apparently, she had to nearly commit murder to arouse him enough to attack her.

No one wants to hear you speak, Bradie Boy," Kitten said in that scratchy voice of hers. "Like that's ever stopped me. I can't believe we've got a bird and a cat in the car." Bradley chuckled. "I guess that makes me animal control. Nice." "I'm a Teran," Kitten said tightly, "not a cat. And if I hear you call me a cat one more time, I'll scratch your eyes out. Understand?" "Oh, I understand. I just don't think you'll like what I'm understanding, which is that you can't wait to get your hands on me.

Paris, the FedEx deliveryman of Pleasure and Fatality.

Evelyn: There's nothing wrong with embracing one's emotions. Brittany: Mom, You don't just embrace your emotions, you make love to them hard-core.

I don't hate you.. I just don't like that you exist