You aren't angry " "You must be joking " she said dryly. "I'm alive Nicholas. And I'm immortal like you. This rocks

Oh dear, is that a skunk?" Leonora asked. "No," Alessandro gasped in horror. "No the smelly cat!" "I've told you, Alessandro darling, they aren't cats." "They look like cats. Like the big fluffy cat she's been stepped on and flattened to a big fluffy pancake cat," Alessandro argued.

She nodded, but Tiny was still holding her arm, and he asked uncertainly, "Are you sure you want to do this, Beau? It sounds painful." "Not as painful as the turn," she said solemnly. "And I'd go through this and a lot more to keep you as my life mate.

She took a bad tumble. Those are some nasty bruises she's carrying," the maid said with a sad shake of the head. "Aye," Cullen agreed, his eyes traveling over lovely, milky white skin, interrupted by several black bruises. "She looks like a cow." Mildrede turned a horrified gaze on him at the comment, but he was more concerned by the choked sound that came from his bride. He really hadn't meant it as an insult, but it seemed the women were taking it so. "I just meant the coloring," Cullen muttered

Birthdays could be such a bummer when you were older than the country you lived in.

Kate," Lucern interrupted. "What?" she asked warily. "I do not need blood." He tugged her off balance and into his lap. "All I need is you.

Okay, why don't we practice your talking with Marguerite? OUT LOUD. I'll be her." Julius stared at him blankly. "Now?" "No, I was thinking maybe next April. Then you could maybe give her a call, arrange a date..." He arched his eyebrow in question, and snapped, "Yes, NOW.