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Man, you cannot be real, the human said softly. Why not? You just can't. She laughed a little. Well, I am. He cleared his throat again. Offered her a lopsided grin. Mind if I ask you to prove it? How? Can I touch your hair?

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
Cannot
Softly
Mind
Littles
Offered
Men
Little
Throat
Wells
Laughed
Human
Touch
Humans
Prove
Lopsided
Well
Hair
Cleared
Asks
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More quotes by J.R. Ward

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A hand landed on his shoulder like an anvil. “How’d you like to stay for dinner?” Butch looked up. The guy was wearing a baseball cap and had some kind of marking—was that a tattoo, on his face? “How’d you like to be dinner?” said another one, who looked like some kind of model.
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No Last Meal for you guys, either. Guess we have that in common.” Someone bust out the pom-poms and cheer for the team. Yay.
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Some bridges you crossed on your own, no matter who drove you to the edge
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Some things are destined to be -- it just takes us a couple of tries to get there.
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God, I miss you, he said in a voice that cracked. Every night. Every day.
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Chaos and love when hand in hand and oh, the glorious grace of the world because of it.
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God, he was probably too young to be this old, but life had a way of being about experience, rather than calendar days.
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Times have changed and so have heroes and heroines, but the core of what makes readers happy has remained the same: Does the material touch you, resonant with you, stick with you? Do you feel yourself in the pages, see yourself walking in another person's shoes, hear the voices as they speak? Are you in love with the way they are in love?
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Qhuinn's eyes shifted away from his buddy--and just happened to measure the distance down to the stone patio below. Hmm . . . doing a swan dive onto all that slate might just get the images of those two out of his head... of course, it would also turn his brain into scrambled eggs, but really, was that such a bad thing?
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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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Blay was the closest thing to an angel Qhuinn had ever come near.
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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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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?
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Turned out Qhuinn was a snuggler. Who knew—and how fabulous.
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Qhuinn looked at each of the hoods again. How ironic, he thought. Nearly two years ago, an Honor Guard of black robes had been sent to him to make sure he knew his family didn't want him. And now, here these males were, come to draw him into a different kind of fold-- that was every bit as strong as that of blood.
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If you eliminate all possible explanations, then the impossible is the answer.
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He's into you, isn't he. Answer the question, Marissa. Flyboy with the superhero plasma... he wants you, doesn't he? -Butch and Marissa
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Time keeps on... slippin'... slippin'... slippin' into the future.
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I feel like I am wlaking down into a porn movie V mutteres as they took the steps with care. Wouldn't that require more black candles for you, Zsadist cracked.
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V shook his head. “Remember what you saw in that clearing, cop? How’d you like that anywhere near a female you loved?” Butch put down the Bud without drinking from it. His eyes traveled over Rhage’s body. “We’re going to need a shitload of steel,” the human muttered.
J.R. Ward