Sometimes talking to you is like talking to myself: pretty damned annoying.

Culinary science? You elected culinary science? That's the most brainless class ever. -Rose to Christian

Sydney sighed and stood up, smoothing her rumpled clothes with dismay. ʺI need a coffee shop or something.ʺ ʺI think I saw one in a cave down the road,ʺ I said. That almost got a smile from her

Love and Loyalty, run deeper than blood." Love that quote even though I haven't read the book.

And sometimes, if I was really, really lucky, he’d smile at me. A real smile, too—not the dry one that accompanied the sarcasm we tossed around so often. I didn’t want to admit it to anyone—not to Lissa, not even to myself—but some days, I lived for those smiles.

I’m a succubus.” He shook his head. “No, you aren’t.” “Yes, I am.” “You aren’t.” I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. “I am too.” “No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don’t wear jeans and sweaters.

There was a lot of apologizing going on, but I realized that was how it was with people you cared about. You forgave each other and moved on.