Adam swore harshly. "New werewolves are dangerous, woman. Especially when they are cold and hungry." He looked at Mac, and his voice changed completely, the heat and anger gone, "Mercy, come here." I didn't look down to see what he'd noticed in Mac's face. I took a step, but Mac was wrapped around my left leg. I stopped before I fell. "Uhm. I'm a little stuck for the moment.

Not that I'd really been planning on keeping the attack secret; it had just been an option I'd wanted to keep open if I could.

His voice was soft and sweet as molasses; but my mother once told me that you had to trust that the first thing out of a person's mouth was truth. After they have a chance to think about it, they'll change what they say to be more socially acceptable, something they think you'll be happier with, something that will get the results they want.

You should be home sleeping. What is the use of having a man in the house, if he cannot take care of you for a while?” “Mmm,” I said. “I give up. What's the use of having a man in the house?

There isn’t a person in this city more dangerous than a wolf whose mate is in danger.

Things change whether you want them to, or not--unless you are dead. Don't hold so hard to the past that you die with it.

Paranoia: the gift of the survivor and the burden of the overtired, stressed, and terrified.