Will you wear my ring so all the world knows yer mine?" Beck wasn't asking for her hand in marriage, but it was so close he might as well be. Riley was deeply touched and she struggled to find the right words. "Yes," she began. "I'd be proud to.

You will be my downfall, Riley Blackthorne.

So what did you bring? Lip gloss and a hairbrush?” Smirking, she unpacked the sandwiches Mort's cook had made for her, along with an ample slice of chocolate cake. “You owe me an apology.” “Omigod, it's a feast! Okay, you're forgiven.

Can you dance?" she asked before she could stop herself. "I can," he said, affronted. "I'm really good with the slow songs.

A soul is forged in the fires of adversity, not comfort.

What would you pack for Armageddon? Sunscreen and shades? Flame-proof underwear? Maybe a travel guide to the Underworld?

Accept that I enjoy being with you. Accept that when I'm with you I see Heaven in your eyes.