I don't want it to be attributed to a loss of control on my part. When I throw you out of the window, I want there to be no doubt the act was deliberate.

Kate leaned back against her chair. "Where is the bane of my existence?" "In the shower, freshening up." "Oh, God, who did Asciano screw now?" "No, no, he's covered in blood." "Oh good." She sighed and stopped. "The kid is covered in blood and we're relieved. There is something wrong with us.

Sh!t. F_ck sh!t.'.... 'Sh!t f_ck would have also been accepted.

Voshak's hair, a pale blond braid, which he bleached, was his trademark. It made him memorable. That's how the slavers operated. They adopted costumes and personas, trying to make themselves larger-than-life and hoping to inspire fear. They counted on that fear. One could fight a man, but nobody could fight a nightmare.

The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp's mouth, and pulled them up by their edges. "What are you doing?" Ghastek asked. "My hole puncher broke." "You have no respect for the undead.

Oh, Gods." His eyes shone with want and predatory satisfaction. "The name's William. It's a common mistake.

Some women waited for a night in shining armor. She, apparently, had ended up with a knight in black jeans and leather, who wanted to chase her down and have his evil way with her.