Oh, I don't know. I might grow on you." She furrowed her pretty eyebrows. "Like a cancer?" "Like a favorite vice.

Why the rifle? Everybody knows you can’t shoot.” Who were these everybodies and would they like to stand in front of me, preferably within ten feet, so I could discuss this issue in greater detail.

A forest," William said, his expression distant. "Where the ground is dry soil and stone. Where tall trees grow and centuries of autumn carpet their roots. Where the wind smells of game and wildflowers." "Why, that was lovely, Lord Bill. Do you ever write poetry? Something for your blueblood lady?" "No." "She doesn't like poetry?" "Leave it." Hehe. "Oh, so you have a lady. How interes--

Superstitions add texture to life.

She had wailed loudly enough to wake the dead and make them call the cops.

I will devour you. I will lick your bones clean and crush them between my teeth. I will suck the marrow…” “That’s nice,” Kate said. “The shield.

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?