If you pretend everything's fine long enough, everything eventually becomes fine.

Some are nice and some aren't. Some are smart, and others are about as bright as a wet match in a dark cave. In other words, pretty normal.

You're surrounded by it wherever you go, you walk through it, breathe it...it's in your lungs and under your tongue and between your fingers and toes.

And there’s one more thing to be aware of ” Cam said with a wintry softness that disguised all hint of feeling. “If you succeed in marrying her we’re not losing a sister. You’re gaining an entire family—who will protect her at any cost.

Ghost?” St. Vincent shot him an incredulous glance. “Christ. You’re not serious, are you?” "I’m a Gypsy,” Cam replied matter-of-factly. “Of course I believe in ghosts.” “Only half Gypsy. Which led me to assume that the rest of you was at least marginally sane and rational.” “The other half is Irish,” Cam said a touch apologetically. “Christ,” St. Vincent said again, shaking his head as he strode away.

My prize, my pleasure and pain, my endless desire. I've never know anyone like you.

She was everything he'd ever wanted, beauty and fire arching against his despoiling hands.