Any life worth living is going to have risks

Things on the essential list: vodka, Nine Inch Nails, a steady supply of mortal men, and an all-purpose bitchy attitude.

He almosted smiled. "There you go again. Why? Why do yo keep helping me?" There were a million answers on my lips, everything from It's the right thing to do to I don't know. Instead, I said, "Because I want to.

Who’s she? Just another Ivashkov. There are tons of them. Probably because all the guys like Adrian and have all sorts of illegitimate children." "Adrian doesn’t have any children." "That we know of.

We're going on a, um, windmill tour later this week." If I'd wanted to shut them all up, I'd definitely succeeded. They all looked stunned. Adrian spoke first. "I'm going to assume that means he's flying you to Amsterdam on his private jet. If so, I'd like to come along. But not for the windmills.

In this one terrified moment, my mind couldn’t focus on any of it. “I’ve forgotten everything.” “No, you haven’t.” His voice in the darkness was calm and reassuring. He smoothed back my hair and pressed one of those half kisses to my forehead. “Just relax and focus." “His reasonable words centered me and allowed the gears of logic that ran my life to take over again.

People who are crazy rarely question whether they're crazy.