I was no suffragette, but I was pretty sure the he-can’t-control-himself defense was a big, stinky load of horseshit.

Oh fine. I'll play nice with the pretty people.

He sank into that kiss, and fed from me like a starving man holding off famine. I drank from his soul in preparation for the drought to come. And when he finally pulled away, my throat was thick with unspoken words, my heart heavy with every apology I'd ever denied him. But it was too late for promises. The time had come for goodbye.

Should I assume the lure is a certain attractive young dead man?

You thought you could figure that out online? Somehow I don't think hellions are much into social networking.

What took you so long?” Nash asked, as he slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed. “I stopped to donate all your underwear to the homeless. You’re gonna wanna take care of those tighty whities—they’re all you’ve got left.” He leaned against the door, either too tired or too drunk to sit up. “And to think, most people don’t understand your sense of humor.” “Fools, all of them.

There's pressure, but that's true no matter who you are or what you do.