In the center was a tiny handprint in red paint.

All right, then, her first rule for the rest of her days: no more looking outside for definitions. She might not have any clue who she was, but better to be lost and searching than shoved into a social box by someone else.

You are perfect the way you are." Blay's voice was strong. "There is nothing wrong with who and what you have always been. I'm proud of you. And I love you. Now ... and always." Qhuinn's vision got wavy. Hard-core. "I'm proud of you. And I love you," Blay repeated. "Always. Forget about your old family ... you have me now. I am your family.

She was seriously staring. Which was what you did when you got a gander at a man who is hung like a Louisville Slugger.

It...is for me?" "Aye. So what say you, lover mine.

Man, you cannot be real," the human said softly. "Why not?" "You just can't." She laughed a little. "Well, I am." He cleared his throat again. Offered her a lopsided grin. "Mind if I ask you to prove it?" "How?" "Can I touch your hair?

Being with Mary was different because...he wasn't the only one who wanted to make love to her. The beast wanted her, too. The beast wanted out so it could take her.