Mac." He said my name and laughed. "What a name for something like you. Mac.

I'd vowed years ago to go to the grave the same way I'd been born, just a lot more wrinkly.

Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever.

You need me as much as I need you. That makes us equal partners in my book. Well, your book is just wrong.

I know part of what turns me on so hard, makes me so violent with lust, is that he's dangerous. I fell for the bad guy. I'm crazy about the one who's trouble. The alpha that doesn't play well with others and doesn't take orders from anyone.

He doesn’t beat me,” I said irritably. “I’d kill him if he did.” “She would. She has a temper. Stubborn, too. But we’re working on that, aren’t we, Ms. Lane?

I can't help but see myself in them. The Seelie are who I was before my sister died. Pink, pretty, frivolous Mac. The Unseelie are who I've become, carved by loss and despair. Black, grungy, driven Mac.