Ashleigh Cartmill

“How can you stand touching her?” my sister blurted, staring at our clasped hands. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
I seized on the change of topic. “These gloves are specialized rubber. They block the current.”
Gretchen’s gaze traveled over Vlad, disbelief still stamped on her features. “Yeah, but how do you two do anything else, unless he has a special, currentrepelling
glove for his—”
“Gretchen!” my father cut her off.
My cheeks felt hot. Don’t say a word, I thought to Vlad, seeing his chest tremble with suppressed laughter.
“He has a natural immunity,” I gritted out.”
― Jeaniene Frost, Once Burned

“Good. If you checked your e-mail every five minutes, or keep texting and Tweeting in the middle of our conversation, I might snap your neck out of sheer principle.”
― Jeaniene Frost, Once Burned

“He was also handsome in a too-pretty way that made me think with less muscles, a wig, and some makeup, he'd look great in a dress.
Vlad's scowl vanished into a smile as the brunet's gaze swung in my direction as though he'd somehow heard that.
"Looks as though she's put you in your place as well, Bones," Vlad drawled.”
― Jeaniene Frost, Once Burned

“Two Leilas seemed to be battling it out inside me. The first was outraged that he still considered it a fait accompli that I'd give in to him, and the second...that slutty bitch was wondering what Vlad looked like naked.”
― Jeaniene Frost, Once Burned