Use me. You've done so much for us-" Marissa said. "Not.....for you." V said. "He's alive because of you. So that's everything." V shook his head and turned away from the wrist. "Can't." "I need you. I'm sick from what I do. I need you." Butch whispered. Vishous fixated on Butch. "Only for...you... not me." "For both of us" "All of us," Marissa interjtected. V took a deep breth and bit into the wrist.

Times have changed and so have heroes and heroines, but the core of what makes readers happy has remained the same: Does the material touch you, resonant with you, stick with you? Do you feel yourself in the pages, see yourself walking in another person's shoes, hear the voices as they speak? Are you in love with the way they are in love?

And bottom line, without John by her side, everything seemed to be just a big, resounding meh.

Too bad the freedom seemed like a prison. As his boots hit the mosaic floor at the bottom of the stairs, John Mellencamp's old-school, bic-lighter anthem echoed in his head-and though he'd always like the song okay, he'd never truly understood what it meant. Kind of wished that were still the case. Life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone.

She'd ended up passing out, and sometime later, John must have gotten up to use the loo and left the light on. Probably to make sure she didn't feel lost if she woke up. Because that's the kind of male he was.

Oh, the humanity.... It was a wonder Rhage hadn't blinded himself with all that pop culture.

What brings you onto my property?" Rhev said, cradling his mug with both hands trying to absorb its warmth. Got a problem" I can't fix your personality, sorry