You don't have body parts there do you?" my mother interrupted. "I don't want to open the fridge and find a head on the shelf" Rodney laughed. "No Justina, it doesn't look like Jeffrey Dahmer's hideaway.

Kitten, you need to make a decision. Either we stay here and behave or we leave now and I promise you”—his voice dipped lower and the words fell against my lips—“if we leave, I won’t behave.

How unconvincing. Try again.

So that makes him, like, your fang granddaddy.

Survival first, then heartbreak.

Movies. Drinks. Headless chickens. You know, girl stuff.

It hurts to much to be close to you, but continually pushed away.