Rule number four for me as a writer? Plotlines are like sharks: They either keep moving or they die. ~J.R. Ward

With that, he looked over his shoulder. Blay's breath shot out of his lungs. "Oh... my God," he whispered.

I am barren of words. For no sounds from my mouth are worthy of your hearing

That's where you come in. I want into that guy's mind, and you need to tell me how to do it." Ad shrugged. "Personally, I'd just use a hacksaw, but—" "There are potential consequences and side effects," Eddie said carefully. "Like what?" "Well, worst case... he could end up like Adrian.

Qhuinn gave in immediately, as he was categorically incapable of denying the female anything — most certainly not one of her hugs. They were even better than her lasagna.

I’m talking to you more than I speak with my mahmen.” “I thought your mother was dead.” “She is.” “You have a very low standard for communication.

Besides, the mhis that surrounded the compound could scramble anything from GPS to Santa Claus.