Only poor people are weird. Rich people are eccentric.

A tall blonde entered the room, wearing a yellow sash that marked her as advocate. Two men followed her, carrying papers. She was lean and long-legged, with a graceful neck and nice ankles, and William took a minute to watch her come down the aisle. She looked high-strung and difficult. Still, good legs. Mmm, smelled of mimosa, too. Expensive scent. Cerise smelled better, when clean.

The universe shrank to Curran and his pain. I had to break him free. Nothing else mattered.

Now Julie could stay here, in the Keep full of homicidal maniacs who grew teeth the size of switchblades and erupted into a violent frenzy when threatened.

Technically, the dance worked best when done naked, but I didn't feel like prancing in the nude into Morrigan Hound's arms. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see me.

Give me a few minutes.” “You have time.” He sat in the grass. “Are you just going to sit there and watch me?” “Yes. Watching pretty peasant girls is what we poor little rich boys do best.” “Peasant?” He shrugged. “You started the name calling.

Juke glanced into her cup before tipping it down to her mouth. "Screw you!" "Now come on, sugar, you know I don't swing that way." "Whatever!