The only reality you can control is the one you're willing to face.

He pulls me around and kisses me. "You're Mac," he says. "And I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters. Never will. You exist in a place that is beyond all rules for me. Do you understand that?" I do. Jericho Barrons just told me he loves me.

He looked as if he'd stepped straight off the cover of one of those romance novels she ordered from Amazon.com so she didn't have to be embarassed by some supercilious male clerk in the bookstore.

He’s so beautiful,” she said wistfully. “He’s like an angel.” “Yep,” I agreed flatly. “The one that fell.

I'd learned a thing or two. Hope strengthens. Fear kills.

Bring it on, Tinker Bell.

When he comes, he makes a noise deep in his throat that is so raw and animal and sexual that I think if he merely looked at me and made that noise, I might explode in an orgasm.