Diana

“Suddenly William loomed over him, scowling, snarling and bloody, his suit dirt-stained and ripped. “Do you know. How many strands. Of hair I lost. On my way down?”
Whatever. “Math was never my thing, but I’m gonna say you lost…a lot.”
Electric-blues glittered with menace. “You are a cruel, sadistic bastard. My hair needs TLC and you…you… Damn you! I’ve gutted men for less.”
“I know. I’ve watched you.” Paris lumbered to his feet and scanned the rocky bank they stood upon, the crimson ocean lapping and bubbling in every direction. The drawbridge was only a fifty-yard dash away. “Don’t kill the messenger, but I’m thinking you should change your dating profile to balding.”
Masculine cheeks went scarlet as the big bad warrior struggled for a comeback.
…
“One of these days you’re going to wake up,” William finally said, “and I will have shaved you. Everywhere.”
“Won’t make a difference. Women will still want me. But you know what else? What I did to you wasn’t cruel, Willy.” He offered the warrior a white-flag grin. A trick. A lie. “This, however, is.”
He grabbed William by the wrist, swung the man around and around before at last releasing him and hurling his body directly onto the bridge.”
― Gena Showalter, The Darkest Seduction

“Where is he?” she demanded, though she wasn’t too worried about the answer. Paris and Zacharel were friends despite their differences, and Wrath had yet to make a peep.
“I took him to the castle and dropped him on the bridge.”
Reevaluation time. Paris and Zacharel were not friends on any level. Wrath, on the other hand, must think angels could do no wrong. “Why would you do that?” Sure, Paris would be carried inside and locked up. Sure, he would escape, and he would be fine. But none of that mattered to her just then. Fury rose, dark and hot and dangerous.
Calm down. Before she whipped out that crystal blade Paris had given her and went to town on angel flesh. She’d so had enough of males and their abuse of supernatural abilities.
Zacharel blinked as if the answer should be obvious to one and all. “That, as you called it, is what one male does to another when they are arguing.”
“No. No, it’s not.”
His lips edged down in the slightest of frowns. “That is what your Paris did to William of the Dark only this morn.”
Well, she had no comeback for that, did she?”
― Gena Showalter, The Darkest Seduction

“She pressed the blade’s tip into her palm and cut. Not as deeply as he had, but enough to ensure a successful exchange. Her blood welled, mingling with the droplets he’d left behind. He liked that, liked knowing some part of him was now inside her.

He reached out, clasped her hand against his, her wound against his. At the moment of contact, he felt a pop inside him, a tear on his soul, and though he’d never done anything like this before, he knew the vow had just made a place for itself inside him.”
― Gena Showalter, The Darkest Seduction

“Galen cupped her cheek with his uninjured hand, his thumb caressing the rise of satin-covered bone. She trembled, but didn’t pull away.”
― Gena Showalter, The Darkest Seduction