Sam laughed, a funny, self-deprecating laugh. "You did read a lot. And spent too much time just inside the kitchen window, where I couldn't see you very well." "And not enough time mostly naked in front of my bedroom window?" I teased. Sam turned bright red. "That," he said, "is so not the point of this conversation.

The only thing is, the more I see him and Corr together, the more I think of how unbearable it would be for Sean to lose him. But we can't both win.

I walk through the seasons and always the birds are singing and screaming and keening for love When you're with me it seems so absurd that I should be jealous of the jay and the dove.

Oh, filmmakers, please don't take my soft book and turn it into a horror, or take my horror and make it soft.

I am not a huge fan of the one-sided pining romances where the guy is a perfect love-object because we don't see inside his head.

He hadn't realized yet that Gansey could persuade even the sun to pause and give him the time.

Did no one tell him that pain lives in this sand, dug in and watered with our blood?