It's late, I'm tired, and your cigarettes are giving me a headache," I growled. "I suppose that's fair." He drew in on the cigarette and let out the smoke. "Some women think they make me look sexy." "I think you smoke them so you have something to do while thinking up your next witty line." He choked on the smoke, caught between inhaling and laughing. "Rose Hathaway, I can't wait to see you again. If you're this charming while tired and annoyed and this gorgeous while bruised and in ski clothes, you must be devastating at your peak.

I don’t belong to anyone. I make my own choices." "And you’re with Adrian," said Dimitri. "But I was meant for you.

Dreams, dreams. I walk them; I live them. I delude myself with them. It's a wonder I can spot reality anymore.

It was a nephilim.” “A nephi-what?” asked Hugh, startled. “Isn’t that a character on Sesame Street?” Peter spoke up for the first time.

What do you think Dimitri? Is this a good idea, Dimitri? Please give us your blessing so that we can fall down and worship you, Dimitri.

For a moment, I was captivated as I studied them side by side. My mother: the perfect picture of guardian excellence and decorum. My father: always capable of achieving his goals, no matter how twisted the means. Uneasily, I began to understand how I’d inherited my bizarre personality.

Not everything about me is cute." "That's true, some things are cute. The rest are sexy. Astonishing, agonizingly sexy. It's a wonder I can get anything done at all, when all I ever think about is the way your lips taste or how your fingertips feel on my skin or how your legs are..." "Adrian, shut up.