Yo soy carne muerta. Translation: I am dead meat.

It’s really over, isn’t it?” He laughed and pulled me into his lap. “That’s the beauty of it all. Nothing’s over. It’s just a new start.

So, thanks,” Vivian said. “For what?” I looked up at her, confused. “For being stupid enough to love your crazy, murdering lunatic of a sister and being such a pathetic dork that I couldn’t help but love you, too

Faeries and vampires were glittery now? Honestly.

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.

What, no flirting?” I asked, trying to buy time. “Aren’t you going to at least try to be sexy? Think of all those vampire fans out there—they’d be so disappointed.” I pulled out my silver knife. Probably should have paid more attention during my knife training. “Tell you what. Let me go and I promise not to tell anyone that you aren’t suave.

Plus as she put it, Prince Eric was far too hairy and peach colored for her taste. I always thought he was pretty hott, but then again, I am a mammal.