If sex were food, Rhage would have been morbidly obese.

Saxton smelled really good and had a handshake that was firm. "You've grown up a lot." Blay found himself flushing as he took his hand back. "You're just the same." "Am I?" Those pearl eyes flashed. "Is that good or bad?" "Oh...good. I didn't mean---" "So tell me how you've been. Are you mated to some nice female your parents set you up with?" Blay's laugh was sharp and hard. "God, no. There's no one for me.

Some things are destined to be -- it just takes us a couple of tries to get there.

I love you. And I'm going to keep loving you even after you don't know I exist.

Bye-bye, Elan. P.S., Next time you implicate someone falsely, try to pick a pacifist.

Rehv swooped down with his long arms and gathered her up against him, tucking her with vital care to his chest. Ducking his head to hers, his voice was deep and grave. "I never thought I would see you again." As he shuddered, she lifted her hands up to his torso. After holding herself back for a moment...she embraced him as fully as he did her. "You smell the same," she said rought, putting her nose right into the collar of his fine silk shirt. "Oh...God, you smell the same.

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?