Say what you would about the dietary requirements, vampirism sure did do great things for the skin and body.

Oh my God! I'm crushing an angel. Let me up!

But you, you’ve always been the rain, the wind, inside my mind. I taste you when I sleep, when I wake, when I breathe.

Do you think you have the right to give me orders now?" The Archangel of New York, a creature so lethal that part of her feared him even now, lifted the hair off her nape, brushed his lips across her skin. "Of course. You are mine." No hint of humor, nothing but stark possession. "I don't think you've quite got the hang of this true love thing.

Go on,” he said in a low tone that was a dare. “Keep on poking the hungry wolf, see how naked it gets you.

How’s Her Royal Bitchiness?” “Alive.” “Pity.

To be a legend, you generally had to be dead.