Among the problems with shame was that it in fact did not make you shorter or quieter or less visible. You just felt like you were.

The front door flew open, and Mary shot out of the house, jumping off the porch, not even bothering with the steps to the ground. She ran over the frost-laden grass in her bare feet and threw herself at him, grabbing on to his neck with both arms. She held him so tightly his spine cracked. She was sobbing. Bawling. Crying so hard her whole body was shaking. He didn't ask any questions, just wrapped himself around her. I'm not okay," she said hoarsely between breaths. "Rhage...I'm not okay.

Strong relationships are not rocked by a truth that is grounded by resolute monogamy.

Let's take my truck," Jim said as he hit the gravel. "Less noise." And it has a radio, right?" With tragic concentration Adrian started warming up his voice, sounding like a moose being backstroked by a chesse grater. Jim shook his head at Eddie as the doors opened "How can you stand that racket?" Selective deafness" Teach me,master.

Butch didn't live in his own place. He didn't spend his own money. He had no job, no future. He was a well-kept pet, not a man.

Her perfume or soap or whatever it was reminded him of sandalwood and something else. Oh, right...orgasms.

The half-human was the hottest thing he'd ever gotten anywhere near. And he'd cozied up to a lightning strike once or twice before.