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J.R. Ward

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“And it was kind of funny to see all these professional fighters unwilling to get within a mile of the female. Then again, if you wanted to survive doing the work they did, accurate risk assessment was something you developed early -- and even Qhuinn, who was the object of the protective instinct the Chosen was rocking, wouldn't have dared touch her.”

“I'm going to stay here and see if he comes back," Wrath said as the double doors opened and V strode in. "I want the rest of you out searching for him in the city, but before you go, first let's get an update from our very own Katie Couric." He nodded at Vishous. "Katie?" V's glare was the ocular version of a fully extended middle finger”

“I want to be with you, too,” he said. “I’ll come to your room after dawn.” Qhuinn didn’t want to ask. Had to. “What about Saxton?” “He’s gone on vacation.” Reaaaaaaaaaaaaaally. “For how long?” “Just a couple of days.” Too bad. Any chance of an extension…for like a year or two? Maybe forever? “Okay, it’s a—” Qhuinn stopped himself before he finished that with date. There was no sense kidding himself. Saxton was away. Blay wanted to get laid. And Qhuinn was more than willing to supply the male with what he wanted.”

“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.”

“I cannae believe you let me touch you.” His voice grew hoarse. “I shall remember this for all my nights.” Tears speared into her eyes. Dearest Virgin Scribe, for all her life, she had waited for a moment like this…. “Do not cry.” His thumb went to her cheeks. “Beautiful female of worth, do not cry.”

“Moments later a huge male with a cropped mohawk came out. Rehvenge was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit and had a black cane in his right hand. As he came slowly over to the Brotherhood's table, his patrons parted before him, partly out of respect for his size, partly out of fear from his reputation. Everyone knew who he was and what he was capable of: Rehv was the kind of drug lord who took a personal interest in his livelihood. You crossed him and you turned up diced like something off the Food Channel.”

“When he pulled back, Blay frowned. "You're shaking." Was it possible he wasn't imagining this? "Am I?" "Yes." "I don't care. I love you. I love you so damned much, and I"m sorry that I wasn't male enough to admit—" Blay stopped him with a kiss. "You're plenty male enough now--the rest of it's in the past." "I just...God, I really am shaking, aren't I? Yeah. But it's okay — I've got you." Qhuinn turned his face into one of the male's palms. "You always have. You've always had me...and my heart. My soul. Everything.”

“You never knew the last time you were seeing someone. You didn't know when the last argument happened, or the last time you had sex, or the last time you looked into their eyes and thanked God they were in your life. After they were gone? That was all you thought about. Day and night.”

“Souls were the same. They, too, had useless baggage that impeded their proper performance, these annoying, holier-than-thou bits dangling like an appendix waiting for infection. Faith and hope and love...prudence, temperance, justice, and fortitude...all this useless clutter just packed too much damn morality into the heart, getting in the way of the soul's innate desire for malignancy.”

“Blay said yet again, that old, familiar voice cutting through all of those years of rejection and judgment, giving him not just a rope of acceptance to hang on to, but a flesh-and-blood hand to lead him out of the darkness of his past... And into a future that didn't require lies or excuses, because what he was, and what they were, was both extraordinary-and not hing out of the ordinary. Love, after all, was universal.”