To be denied was like getting shut out of a Public Park.

I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated.

You've won the evolutionary lottery: You're a vampire. Let's go to Disneyland!

V jerked back to the present. And for some reason didn't lie. "I'm thinking about my tattoos." "When did you get them?" "Almost three centuries ago." She whistled. "God, you live that long?" "Longer. Assuming I don't get cracked dead in a fight and you fool humans don't blow up the planet, I'll be breathing for another seven hundred years.

This was the gift of recovery, he thought. The ability to be here in this moment with the female he loved and be fully aware, fully awake, fully present. Undiluted.

You're getting into some kind of shape, cop." Aw, come on, now." Butch grinned. "Don't let that shower we took go to your head." Rhage fired a towel at the male. "Just pointing out your beer gut's gone." It was a Scotch pot. And I don't miss it.

Do you think I haven't noticed? You can't wait to be free of me. I drink and then you bolt up, as if you've had to force yourself to endure my presence." She'd started to sob then. "I've always tried to be clean when I come to you. I spend hours in the tub, washing myself. But I cannot find the dirt that you see." -Marissa to Wrath