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“Wrapping her arms around herself in an age-old feminine gesture, she dared a glance at Saintcrow. "What are you going to do with me?" She had intended to speak boldly; instead, her voice came out sounding frightened as she felt. Belonging to Darrick Vaughan was suddenly very appealing. "What does any man want with a woman?" She didn't like the sound of that at all. Gathering her courage, she lifted her chin. "You're not a man." "You think not?" He took a step toward her. "Shall I prove it to you here and now?" "No!" His deep black eyes lit up with amusement.”

Quote by Amanda Ashley

Book:As Twilight Falls
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As Twilight Falls

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Amanda Ashley

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“Taking her by the hand, he led her to the high-backed sofa in front of the fireplace and drew her down beside him, his arms sliding around her shoulders to hold her close. "Time for a taste," he said, and bent his head to her neck. "No!" Panic surged through her. She tried to wriggle out of his hold, but his arm, as hard and unyielding as iron, held her fast. She gasped when she felt the faint sting of his fangs at her throat. His mouth was incredibly hot against her skin. He was drinking from her. She expected to feel revulsion, disgust, horror. Instead, a delicious warmth spread through her whole body, pooling deep within her, culminating in a rush of unexpected sensual pleasure that stole the breath from her body. Hardly aware of what she was doing, she grabbed a handful of his hair to hold him in place, afraid he would take his mouth away. She moaned softly, heard his soft chuckle as he ran his tongue along her neck, and then drank again. She was lost, she thought, lost in a world of sensation unlike anything she had ever imagined. It was almost beyond bearing. If only he would stop. If only he would never stop.”

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Book:As Twilight Falls
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“Eyes blazing with desire, he said, "Tell me. Tell me what you want." "You know what I want." "Say it." "I want you to make love to me. Here, now." He growled low in his throat as he lowered her to the rug in front of the hearth. His hands made short work of getting rid of her clothing and then his own. Soft sounds of delight rose in her throat as she ran her hands over him. In spite of the scars that marred his chest, he was very beautiful, each muscle sharply defined as though sculpted by an artist's hand. His skin was cool beneath her questing fingertips as she explored the width of his shoulders, his six-pack abs, the long, ridged scar that ran the length of his back.”

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“Saintcrow watched her for several minutes, admiring her curvy bottom, the way the moon cast silver highlights in her hair, the sound of her heart as it began to beat fast. All his predatory instincts came to life as he watched her run away from him. Yanking off his boots and socks, he pursued her. She let out a squeal when he grabbed her to the ground, twisting at the last minute so that she landed on top of him. She stared down at him, breathless, a hint of fear in her eyes. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of her hair and skin, the tempting scent of her blood. Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her. The salty smells of sea and sand clung to her skin. He tasted it on her lips. She moaned softly as he rolled over, tucking her beneath him. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer. And all the while, she made little hungry sounds deep in her throat. Holding her close, he whisked them up into the hills above the bay. Removing his long leather coat, he held her to his chest with one arm while he spread his coat on the ground, then lowered her onto it. With hands that moved faster than her eyes could follow, he removed her clothing and his own, and then he gathered her body to his, his hunger for her blood, his longing for her body, merging in a maelstrom of desire that would not be ignored. She writhed beneath him, as eager as he, her hands roaming over him, now caressing him, now raking her nails across his back, down his chest. With a low growl, he buried himself deep within her, felt her answering cry of pleasure as desire engulfed them.”

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“That night Serena dressed to meet Zahi. She used a metallic green eye shadow on the top lids and the outer half of the bottom lids so that her eyes looked like a jungle cat's. Two coats of black mascara completed them, and then she smudged a light gold gloss on her lips. She took a red skirt from the closet. The material was snakelike, shimmering black, then red. She slipped it on and tied the black strings of a matching bib halter around her neck and waist. She painted red-and-black glittering flames on her legs and rubbed glossy shine on her arms and chest. Finally, she took the necklace she had bought at the garage sale and fixed it in her hairline like the headache bands worn by flappers back in the 1920's. The jewels hung on her forehead, making her look like an exotic maharani. She sat at her dressing table and painted her toenails and fingernails gold, then looked in the mirror. A thrill jolted through her as it always did. No matter how many times she saw her reflection after the transformation, her image always astonished her. She looked supernatural, a spectral creature, green eyes large, skin glowing, eyelashes longer, thicker. Everything about her was more forceful and elegant- an enchantress goddess. She couldn't pull away from her reflection. It was as if the warrior in her had claimed the night.”

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“Serena Killingsworth walked toward them, carrying her cello in a brown case. Her short hair, currently colored Crayola-red, was twisted into bobby-pin curls. A nose ring glistened on the side of her nose. She wore purple lipstick, red-brown shadow around her green eyes, and a smile that seemed to hold a secret. She was new at school. Vanessa liked her look and especially admired the way she seemed so oblivious to what other people thought about her.”

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