Butch nodded as if he knew exactly what was doing. "Like I said, my man, it's whatever. You and me? Same as always, no matter who you screw. Although… if you're into sheep, that would be tough. Don't know if I could handle that.

Payne nailing him in the face woke him up. George brought him back his independence. But Beth handed him his crown.

John Matthew was her well of soul, as the symphaths called it,or her pyrocant, to the vampires. Her essential weakness.

Don't make me flip you off" "Why would I deprive you of a favourite hobby?" "Because my finger's getting sore.

His thumb went back and forth over the satin, as if he were rubbing her hip as he had when they'd been together, and he moved his leg over so that it was on top of the skirting. It wasn't the same, though. There was no body underneath, and the fabric smelled like lemons, not her skin. And he was, after all, alone in this room that was not theirs. "God, I miss you," he said in a voice that cracked. "Every night. Every day.

Rhage exhaled slowly, air easing out of his nose. As he sank into his skin, he reveled in the perfection of peace. The heavenly silence. The great roaring absence.

Look, you didn't fail me. Because you can't fail at the impossible." -Zsadist to Phury