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Yeah, but going by that cold tone of voice, she had to wonder whether the best-laid plans of mice and vampires, blah, blah, blah...

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
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And for all he had learned to bandage himself up on the outside, the wound remained just as bad and deep as the moment it had been made - when it became obvious that the one male he wanted above all others was never, ever going to be with him.
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Turned out Qhuinn was a snuggler. Who knew—and how fabulous.
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How sweetly he came to her, she thought. Even with his bulk and power, he came to her...sweetly.
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United by their clasped hands, they became again the two halves, the light and the dark. The Destroyer and the Savior. A whole.
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No stonger allies no greater friends no bigger fighters of honor could a king behould then these assembled afore me mine brothers mine blood
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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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[Qhuinn looking a Blay] A tear escaped from that eye . Welling up along the lower lid, it coalesced at the far corner, formed a crystal circle, and grew so fat it couldn’t hold on to the lashes. Slipping free, it meandered downward, getting lost in dark hair at the temple.
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[Devina] “You know, Adrian, you ever get bored with being a Goody Two-shoes, you could come over to my side.” “Because you have cookies, right.” Those black eyes returned to his own. “And so much more.” “Well, I’m on a diet. Sorry—but thanks for the invite.
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I'll call you, Manny said. You do that, my man. You frickin' do that. -Manny to V
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Falling into ruin was a bit like falling in love: Both descents stripped you bare and left you as you were at your core. And both endings are equally painful.
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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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No, you've got it all wrong, John. Reading his emotions, she shook her head. You're not half the male you could be because of what was done to you. You're twice what anyone else is because you survived.
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Time keeps on... slippin'... slippin'... slippin' into the future.
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It was the wife, John thought. And she was giving this tough guy a tongue-lashing. And the man was taking it. Okay. I love you. Bye. Tohrment flipped the phone closed and put it in his pocket. When he focused on John again, he clearly respected his wife enough not to roll his eyes and make some macho, shithead comment about pesky women.
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God, I miss you, he said in a voice that cracked. Every night. Every day.
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The one good thing about the Angels was they always colored within the lines. They had to. Suckers.
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Wellsie frowned. I'd like you to stay away from him, okay? He's...not right in a lot of ways. Do you know what I mean? Actually, John wasn't so sure about that. Yeah, the guy was enough to make you think fondly of the boogeyman sometimes, but clearly he wasn't all bad.
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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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I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated.
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Did television execs have souls? Now, that was an existential question and a half.
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