You trust him, Trace, and you know it." "With my back," Trace snapped. "Not with my sister.

Trace started on his way again, this time taking the lead. "She's five-four and weighs less than one-twenty. Matt can handle himself." "Says the man with the black eye.

When Alani started to speak, Jackson held up a finger. In the past five minutes, he'd had more mood swings than a menopausal woman. First turned-on, then territorial, bored, aggressive and now on alert.

Trace cursed. He actually wanted to hit something, but a tree would break his knuckles, he didn't want to put another dent in the truck, and Dare would hit back.

But love was strange. It distorted your perspective and played havoc with your logic.

After A Perfect Storm came out, I heard from a young reader, who had suffered a similar background as Arizona, that I had helped her to find peace. That was the most amazing thing in the world to me.

love means breaking all the rules