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Unfortunately, beer was only a short-term answer. And head transplants had yet to be approved by the FDA.

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
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Fda
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Unfortunately
Beer
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Short
Answers
Head
Transplants

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And bottom line, without John by her side, everything seemed to be just a big, resounding meh.
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Tell you what, you let me go, and I’ll ask you plenty of questions about your race. Until then, I’m slightly distracted with how this little vacation on the good ship Holy Sh*t is going to pan out for me.
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Marissa laughed, utterly delighted with her mate. Later. Food first. Butch settled back immediately, like she'd called his lust to a heel and it behaved because it wanted to be a good boy. As she left, the cop's eyes followed her with rank hunger and adoration. V shook his head. You are a total sap.
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Is he Catholic? her grandmother asked on the way out. He's a drug dealer -- so if he is religious, he's got incredible powers of reconciliation. He looks like a good boy, her vovo said over her shoulder. A good Catholic boy. And that was that -- for now.
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Ah, now, don't get all mushy on me. We ain't dating. Butch
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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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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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Then you would hold me up, wouldn't you. He traced over her features with his fingertips. And as he did, for some strange reason, he felt the arms of infinity wrapping around them both, holding them close... linking them forever. Yes, he mouthed. I would hold you up. I will ever hold you up and hold you dear, lover mine.
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Xhex: John, she said softty. He paused and looked over his shoulder toward the bed. I love you.” His handsome face tightened in pain, and he rubbed the middle of his chest, as if someone had fisted up his heart and squeezed it dead. And then he turned away. As she hit the confines of her prison… She was screaming at the top of her lungs.
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But every once in a while, from out of the blue, someone reaches the quiet place where you spend your private time and changes the way you see yourself
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Vishous's chest expanded. . . and his diamond stare slowly swung to Butch. There was a heartbeat of intensity. Then V reached out and repositioned the cross so it once again hung over Butch's heart. You did well, cop. Congratulations, true?
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She was seriously staring. Which was what you did when you got a gander at a man who is hung like a Louisville Slugger.
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Praying's not going to help. Too late for that, Jane...I gave you a chance to have it on your terms. Now we'll do this on mine
J.R. Ward
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Wrath jammed a finger in V’s face. “Don’t follow me. We clear? You don’t follow me.” “You stupid fool,” V said with total exhaustion. “You’re the king. We all must follow you.
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You have cable?” He nodded toward her TV. She tossed him the clicker. “Sure do. And if I remember, there’s a Godzilla marathon on TBS tonight.” “Sweet,” the vampire said, kicking his legs out. “I always root for the monster.” She smiled at him. “Me, too.
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My twin's not broken. He's ruined. Do you understand the difference? With broken maybe you can fix him. Ruined? All you can do is wait to bury him.
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Besides, you think I'm not used to hurting? For me, it's home sweet home, my brother.
J.R. Ward
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And love … love was worth dying for. Worth living for, too.
J.R. Ward
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That's the problem with white horses. You have to pay for them yourself or you'll always be using someone else's reins.
J.R. Ward
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Fine, dandy, she thought. Then lose the shirt, peel off those leather pants, and lie down on my tile. We'll take turns being on the bottom.
J.R. Ward