Abe swept in, resplendent in a gray and yellow suit that coordinated bafflingly well with Adrian's paint job.

You can live a lifetime in two years.

I think Adrian really likes you. Like, in a wanting-to-be-serious way." "Nope. He likes me in a wanting-to-get-the-clothes-off-the-cute-dhampir way.

She laughed softly. "Therapy isn't so much about what I think as you do." "Then why do it at all?" "Because we don't always know what it is we're thinking or feeling. When you have a guide, it's easier to figure things out. You'll often discover that you already know what to do. I can help you ask questions and go places you mihgt not have on your own." "Well, you're good at the qujestion part." I noted dryly.

Jerome sighed and set down his fork. "Are you still doing that, Georgie? Don't I suffer enough without having to endure the humiliation of a succubus who moonlights as a Christmas elf?" "You always said I should quit the bookstore and find something else to do," I reminded him. "Yes, but that was because I thought you'd go on to do something respectable. Like become a stripper or the Mayor's mistress.

When I look into his eyes, I could see without a doubt that he loved me more than anyone else in the world, that I was his salvation, the same way that he was mine.

Adrian gave the picture a nod of approval before handing me the phone. "Okay, even I can admit that's pretty cute." I found myself overanalyzing the comment. What had he meant in saying 'even he' could admit it? That I was cute for a human? Or that I had just met some kind of Adrian hot-girl criteria?