I loved you!” he yelled. He jumped up out of his chair so quickly I never saw it coming. “I loved you, and you destroyed me. You took my heart and ripped it up. You might as well have staked me!” The change in his features also caught me by surprise. His voice filled the room. So much grief, so much anger. So unlike the usual Adrian. He strode toward me, hand clasped over his chest. “I. Loved. You. And you used me the whole time.

Kill me, Doug. Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery.” “Christ, Kincaid, what did you say to him?” murmured Doug. “Well,” I told Doug, “I ripped on his fans and on how long it takes for his books to come out.” Doug stared at me, his expectations exceeded. “Then I said—not knowing who he was—that I’d be Seth Mortensen’s love slave in exchange for advanced copies of his books.

Slushes. Do you know how much I love those? Cherry, especially.

I don't suppose you offered to help?" "Sage," Adrian declared. "These hands don't do manual labor." He knocked another ball into a hole. "You want to play?" "What? With you?" "No, with Clarence." He sighed at my dumbfounded look. "Yes, of course with me.

Sorry, Sage. Last I checked, you aren’t an expert in social matters..." "At least I take action. You? You let the world go by without you. You have no spine. You don’t fight back." “You don’t know the first thing about me, Adrian Ivashkov. I fight back plenty.

Dimitri: "Don't look at me like that." Rose: "Like what?" Dimitri: "You've got this look on your face that says you think I'm delusional, but you're too nice to say anything.

I’d said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass.