He ordered food with a childlike glee and watched me eat, tasting it as I did. In private he'd roll on his back like a cat, hands pressed to his mouth as if trying to drain every taste. It was the only thing he did that was cute. He was gorgeous, sensual, but rarely cute. - Anita Blake about Jean-Claude

I got out my jar of ointment. I knew animators who had special containers for the ointment. Crockery, hand-blown glass, mystical symbols carved into the sides. I used an old Mason jar that had once held Grandma Blake's green beans. Larry fished out a peanut butter jar with the label still on it. Extra-crunchy. Yum-Yum.

Surely being in love doesn't cause you to lose your sense of good taste. If I ever buy a gown with sequins on it, someone just shoot me.

She doesn't understand what she's asking, Jean-Claude said. No, but she asks, and if we do not do it, we will always wonder. I would rather thy and fail than regret having never tried at all.

A vampire victim. I'd never seen a lone kill. They were like potato chips; once a vamp tasted them, he couldn't stop at just one.

If your life works, and you work in it, then it’s okay, whatever is happening is okay.

I looked at Micah, who shrugged. I looked at Rafael, who shook his head. Nice that none of us knew why he was undressing.