I'm not that complicated, Haven. The truth is, I've wanted you ever since I met you in that damned wine cellar. Because I got a bigger charge out of that five minutes than I have with any woman before or since.

The Travises who had survived were the most purely stubborn people on earth, the kind who relied on their backbones when their wishbones were broken.

What did you do with memories, feelings, needs, that didn’t belong anywhere?

It's the perfect solution. We argue all the time. We can't stand each other. It's like we're already married.

It was a good hald minute before I looked over at Todd. his eyes were slightly foggy, like he was waking up- reluctantly- from a lascivious dream. "I didn't know they still made them like that," he said.... "Cool, tough, retro-manly. The kind who only cries if someone just ran over their dog. The big chested guy we can indulge our pathetic Daddy complexes with.

My lord," catherine asked,her eyes wide, "do you think that has anything to do with the Ramsay curse?" "Actually, that hadn't occurred to me yet," Leo said, "thank you so much for bringing it to my attention.

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.