My ex—may he soon discover tiny worms have invaded his body and are slowly eating him alive—once told me God made men so perfect because He'd wanted to make up for the inadequacies of women.

"Are you trying to tell me that you've never been kissed?" I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. He looked so dubious, and his tone had bordered on insulting. "Yeah. So?" "So, I'm shocked, that's all. You're...you." In-sul-ting. "Me?" I asked stiffly. "Yeah. Hot," he said. Wait. Me? Hot? He laughed down at me. "No one's told you that, either, have they?" I could only shake my head. "You've clearly been hanging around idiots."

Paris answered for him. "Last time he spread the flashing love, Reyes threw up all over his shirt. I never laughed so hard in my life. Lucien, though, has no sense of humor and vowed never to take us again." "I'm surprised you didn't mention the part where you fainted," Lucien said wryly. Strider chortled. "Oh, man. You fainted? What a baby!" "Hey," Paris said, frowning at Lucien. "I told you I hit my head midflash." Lucien

Is it sad that my first thought happened to be: Thank God I'm off the treadmill.

Words were one of the most powerful forces known— or unknown— to man. The Most High had created this world with His words. And humans, who had been fashioned in His image, could direct the entire course of their lives with their words, their mouths as the rudder on a ship, as the bridle on a horse. They produced with their words. They destroyed with their words.

I love who you are, yesterday, now, tomorrow, always.

Replies began arriving seconds after he pressed send, and soon every single one of the warriors (besides William) had agreed to come home. Take me out of your address book, William