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Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.
“I have loved you for years. I have been in love with you for years and years and years ... throughout school and training ... before transitions and afterward ... when you approached me and yes, even now that you're with Saxton and you hate me. And that ... shit ... in my fucking head locked me down, locked everything down ... and it cost me you.”
― Lover at Last
― Lover at Last
“Because I was, and I remain, utterly and completely and totally…in love with you.”
― Lover at Last
― Lover at Last
“Our boy looks impressed.”
“Should be,” Rhage muttered as he jacked the belt on his robe. “We are awesome.”
Multiple groans at that point. Rolled eyes.
“At least he didn’t pull out the ‘totes amazeballs,’” somebody muttered.
“That’s Lassiter,” came an answer.
“Man, that son of a bitch has got to stop watching Nickel-fucking-odeon.”
― Lover at Last
“Should be,” Rhage muttered as he jacked the belt on his robe. “We are awesome.”
Multiple groans at that point. Rolled eyes.
“At least he didn’t pull out the ‘totes amazeballs,’” somebody muttered.
“That’s Lassiter,” came an answer.
“Man, that son of a bitch has got to stop watching Nickel-fucking-odeon.”
― Lover at Last
“If you introduce yourself to anyone as Mrs. Dracula, I'll bite you in a manner you won't enjoy.”
― Twice Tempted
― Twice Tempted
“Lassiter skidded in from the billiards room, the fallen angel glowing from his black-and-blond hair and white eyes, all the way down to his shitkickers. Then again, maybe the illumination wasn’t his nature, but that gold he insisted on wearing.
He looked like a living, breathing jewelry tree.
“I’m here. Where’s my chauffeur hat?”
“Here, use mine,” Butch said, outing a B Sox cap and throwing it over. “It’ll help that hair of yours.”
The angel caught the thing on the fly and stared at the red S. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Do not tell me you’re a Yankees fan,” V drawled. “I’ll have to kill you, and frankly, tonight we need all the wingmen we’ve got.”
Lassiter tossed the cap back. Whistled. Looked casual.
“Are you serious?” Butch said. Like the guy had maybe volunteered for a lobotomy. Or a limb amputation. Or a pedicure.
“No fucking way,” V echoed. “When and where did you become a friend of the enemy—”
The angel held up his palms. “It’s not my fault you guys suck—”
Tohr actually stepped in front of Lassiter, like he was worried that something a lot more than smack talk was going to start flying. And the sad thing was, he was right to be concerned. Apart from their shellans, V and Butch loved the Sox above almost everything else—including sanity.”
― Lover at Last
He looked like a living, breathing jewelry tree.
“I’m here. Where’s my chauffeur hat?”
“Here, use mine,” Butch said, outing a B Sox cap and throwing it over. “It’ll help that hair of yours.”
The angel caught the thing on the fly and stared at the red S. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Do not tell me you’re a Yankees fan,” V drawled. “I’ll have to kill you, and frankly, tonight we need all the wingmen we’ve got.”
Lassiter tossed the cap back. Whistled. Looked casual.
“Are you serious?” Butch said. Like the guy had maybe volunteered for a lobotomy. Or a limb amputation. Or a pedicure.
“No fucking way,” V echoed. “When and where did you become a friend of the enemy—”
The angel held up his palms. “It’s not my fault you guys suck—”
Tohr actually stepped in front of Lassiter, like he was worried that something a lot more than smack talk was going to start flying. And the sad thing was, he was right to be concerned. Apart from their shellans, V and Butch loved the Sox above almost everything else—including sanity.”
― Lover at Last
Dark Erotica
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