When you can't be sure of anything else in this crapped- on world, you have to be sure of yourself.

In three strides Reaver was on her, his mouth crushing hers. “No more bullshit,” he said against her lips. “I want you. I think I’ve always wanted you.

I wonder what disgusts you more, the fact that I’m a demon, or the fact that when I touch you, it doesn’t matter.

His voice was low and rough … “What about you? Do you like bad boys?” “There’s definitely appeal,” she breathed. “Good,” He bent and clipped her earlobe with his teeth … “Because they don’t come badder than me.

Okay, boys.” Pestilence's grating voice rang out. “Kill the human and the mutt, and let's get this Apocalypse started!

Harvester might have a halo, but dear, sweet Lord, she was no angel in the sack. Awesome.

No. It was because it was the first time I made love to anyone. You can call me a liar or anything else, but do not doubt me on this. And I swear to you that you were the first, and you will be the last. ~Wraith