When a lion stalks a herd, he sneaks in close, lies down, and surveys them to choose his victim. He takes his time. The deer or buffalo have no idea he’s near. He finds his prey and then he explodes from his hiding place and grabs it. Even if another, perfectly serviceable animal ends up within his reach, he isn’t going to alter his course. He has chosen, and he would rather go hungry than change his mind.

Aha! So I’m not crazy.” “You are most definitely crazy,” Derek said. “But in a deranged, endearing way.

It's awful to be rich and mind-boggingly handsome and have women fawn over you. My heart bleeds for you. Poor dear, how do you manage?

He bared his teeth in a happy feral grin. My own personal psycho.

What kind of woman greets the Beast Lord with 'here, kitty, kitty'?

Who is there with you?" "Raphael" Kate's voice snapped. "I'll be in Atlanta in three hours. Where are you?" "I said it's nothing major." "Bullshit. You wouldn't work with Raphael unless the Apocalypse was imminent and that was the only way to prevent it.

He finished the bandage and was examining it critically. "You know those things are unreliable." His voice held just a touch of reproach. “Eleven out of twelve work fine. I’d say that’s better chances than getting an orgasm with a blind date and women still try.