One of my favorite things about supernatural fiction is its vast array of creatures.

I think we need to have a little talk, woman to skank.

Tate grabbed me, hugging me so hard, I knew I'd have bruises. He was probably unaware of it, not having had much time to get used to his new strength. I pushed at him, "Tate...you're squeezing me too hard." He let go of me so fast I almost staggered. "Oh Christ, I can't do anything right!

He gave the body a final kick and then turned to face me. “You and I need to talk, Kitten.” “Now?” I asked in disbelief, gesturing to the dead vampire near his feet. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere, so yeah. Now.

Age had taught him patience. Youth had taught me to get frustrated at the lack of progress.

People frequently bore me, sometimes amuse me, most often irritate me, but rarely intrigue me.

I have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those held a candle to the pain I felt at seeing his mouth on hers.