Wrath: What the hell are you supposed to ask?Rhage: I know! Who do you like the most? It's me right?Come on, you know it is. Come oooooonnnnn-Butch: If its you,, I'll kill myself.V: No, that just means she's blind.Rhage: It has to be me.V: She said she didn't like you at first.Rhage: Ah, but I won her over, which is more than anyone else can say about you, hot stuff.J.R.: I don't like anyone the bestWrath: Right answer.Rhage: She's just sparing all of you feelings. (grins, becoming impossibly handsome) She's so polite.J.R.: Next question?Rhage: Why do you like me the best?
Butch tightened his grip on his cell and wished there were an app that let you reach through a phone and bitch slap someone.
Good? No, that didn't go far enough. She'd made him feel… alive. Awakened.
Michael Rafferty was a goodman. A solid man. He was never going to be Hugh Jackman handsome or Bill Gates rich or King of England powerful. But he was hers and he was Sean's and that was more than enough
Rule number four for me as a writer? Plotlines are like sharks: They either keep moving or they die. ~J.R. Ward
Z: "You know, this was a hell of a lot easier when you were out cold in the back of that truck."Phury: "That was you?"Z:"You think it was Santa Claus or some shit?
Look upon me, Mistress. Watch as I wither!
Listen, I don't want things to get weird, okay.""Oh, yeah, no, weird is bad.""But just so you and I are clear, I really fucking want to kiss you right now.
The heavy soul will not pass though the body is failing.
When her blue-black eyes lifted to his, everything disappeared. Their bodies dematerialized. The room they were in ceased to exist. Time became nothing. And in the void, in the wormhold, Wrath's chest opened up sure as if he'd been shot, a piercing pain licking over his nerve endings. He knew then that there are many ways for a heart to break. Sometimes it's from the crowding of life, the compression of responsibility and birthright and burden that just squeezed you until you couldn't breathe anymore. Even though your lungs were working just fine. And sometimes it's from the casual cruelty of a fate that took you far from where you had thought you would end up.And sometimes it's age in the face of youth. Or sickness in the face of health. But sometimes it's just because you're looking into the eyes of your lover, and your gratitude for having them in your life overflows...because you showed them what was on the inside and they didn't run scared or turn away: they accepted you and loved you and held you in the midst of your passion or your fear...or your combination of both. Wrath closed his eyes and focused on the soft pulls at his wrist. God, they were just like the beat of his heart. Which made sense.Because she was the center of his chest. And the center of his world.