Aren’t you going to ask me how it went, Kitten?" “You walked in and took the stairs one at a time,” I answered. “And you haven’t barked at me to get in the car, so I take it Majestic didn’t tell you our asses were trophies for hunting season. Am I wrong?

Happy belated birthday, Cat," he said, giving me a self-deprecating smile. "Aren't you glad Juan picked the place and not me? We wold have had lattes and hors d'oeuvres instead of liquor and G-strings. Anyone get you a gin yet?

Cat, you asked me before to find out if those dream -suppression pills had any side effects. I’ve checked with Pathology, and they said you might experience depression, mood swings, irritability, paranoia, and chronic fatigue. Have you noticed any of that?

You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one's better in bed.

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.

The cool thing about being a writer is: you get to make stuff up. When I started wring about Vampires, I realized, I can take everything i did like about that mythology and anything I didn't like, I didn't have to; because until a real Vampire stands up and says, 'you've got it wrong,' it's anyone's game.

Now that was informative" were her first words. "Catherine, you never told me that no matter how many times you sliced something off a vampire, it grew back" Charming, "Guess I don't have to ask if you had a nice time.