Brush teeth. Wash hair. Rule undead world with an iron fist.

You should be afraid. Very afraid. Before, I told you if you wanted to end things between us, I would let you go, but, Leila"--his voice deepened--"I lied.

I doubt you’ve ever been forced to nonstop bang a woman hyped up on the undead voodoo version of Spanish fly, have you?” His chuckle was soft. “Can’t say that I have, Kitten.” “Yeah, well, consider me an original.” This time, when his lips brushed across my skin, it lasted more than a moment. “I always have.

Because, Cat, it’s the feminine persuasion that’s always the deadliest.

Anytime you want to lay off the paybacks God, that'd be great.

Before we met, I'd fly for hours to clear my head," Bones said, his voice reaching me even over the rush of wind. "It was the closest I came to finding peace, but though several of my mates could fly, I always went alone. I never wanted to share this with anyone until you.

The servants must wait like ninjas for me to leave so they could render this place spotless again.