He tasted like sin made into wine: dark, heady, and impossible to resist.

She's my kitten, and no one else's.

The clock struck eleven and cat the vampire huntress was on the loose, except my battle armor was a push-up bra, curled hair, and a short dress. Yeah, it was a dirty job, but I was going to do it. Come one, come all, bloodsuckers! Bar’s open!

Are you having performance issues?” I asked in surprise. “Bite your tongue,” Vlad said, with a snort. “I was seeing if Dermot understood sign language, but from the look on his face, it seems not.

If I’d known you were such a lush, I’d have given you the cheap stuff. Going to go out with a bang, are you?

It was official. I now wanted to murder a ghost, a notion I'd discarded as unlikely only twenty minutes before. (Cat)

I want to know all of you, Kitten. What you show me, and what you try not to.