After a moment, Wrath turned to John. "This is Lassiter, the fallen angel. One of the last times he was here on earth, there was a plague in central Europe-" "Okay, that was so not my fault-" "-which wiped out two-thirds of the human population." "I'd like to remind you that you don't like humans." "They smell bad when they're dead." "All you mortal types do.

As far as he was concerned, there were only two good positions for a human. A female on her back. And a male facedown not breathing.

How sweetly he came to her, she thought. Even with his bulk and power, he came to her...sweetly.

It was a universal truth among males that anytime you saw a guy get it in the nuts, you experienced a shot of phantom pain in your own croquet set.

Are you wet for me, Mary? I think you are. I think you're covered with honey.

I’m on the benevolent side of antisocial. I don’t mind people, but I’d prefer not to have a lot of them around.

And as he held his first true lover against him, feeling that familiar difference in their heights and smelling that wonderful cologne, part of him wanted to debate this break up until they both gave in and kept trying. But that wasn’t fair.