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Christ, don't you ever knock? It's Lassiter. L-A-S-S-I-T-E-R. How is it possible you're still getting me confused with someone else? Do I need a nametag?

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
Christ
Else
Someone
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Knock
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Confused
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Qhuinn wanted to scream... Yes he has!!!
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He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces.
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In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was...although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe even Joan Collins.
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He tasted each one of them. The raw power and majesty of Wrath. The vast strength of Rhage. The burning, protective loyalty of Phury. The cold savagery of Zsadist. The sharp cunning of Vishous.
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Dedicated to: You. There will never be another like you. For me...you are the one. Yeah, I don't have enough words for this.
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She did nothing to try to control the shakes that rattled her body,and didn't attempt to stop herself from crying. Tears left both of her eyes at the far corners,slipping out and flowing over her temples.Some landed in her ears. Some eased down her neck and were absorbed by the pillow.Others clouded her vision,as if they didn't want to leave home.
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Destiny had a 518 area code..who knew. - Ehlena
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All I see are ankles and wrists--and FYI, you're pulling a Mileyfrickin'-Cyrus with that belly flash. Not attractive.
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This was the gift of recovery, he thought. The ability to be here in this moment with the female he loved and be fully aware, fully awake, fully present. Undiluted.
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Ah, now, don't get all mushy on me. We ain't dating. Butch
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We also mark what's ours. And as I'm not going to see you for twelve hours, I think I'll leave a little more all over you.
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Besides, you think I'm not used to hurting? For me, it's home sweet home, my brother.
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With his fantastic mane of multicoloured hair, Phury should have been in Hollywood's league with the ladies, but he'd stuck with his vow of celibacy. There was room for one and only one love in his life, and it had been slowly killing him for years.
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You are in a prison with no bars. I worry about you.
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There was a heavy, dark pause of vast significance. Which Jim broke by flashing his hands and belting out, “Booga-wooga!” At least Eddie laughed. Adrian flipped Jim the bird and headed to the fridge for another beer.
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You are so beautiful, he mouthed. But of course she couldn’t see his lips. Guess he was going to have to show her.
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I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated.
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