Andre Ernstzen

“If I had a dollar for every time a random woman walked up to me and tried to seduce me, I'd have 50 cents. That's assuming drag queens are half price.”
― Jarod Kintz, This Book is Not for Sale

“What does Éloa mean?”

He narrowed his gaze, answered her literally. “It’s the name of an angel.”

Penelope tilted her head, thinking. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

“Was he a fallen angel?”

“She was, yes.” He hesitated, not wanting to tell her the story, but unable to stop himself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.”

“Tricked her how?”

He met her gaze. “She fell in love with him.”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “Did he love her?”

Like an addict loves his addiction. “The only way he knew how.”

She shook her head. “How could he trick her?”

“He never told her his name.”
― Sarah MacLean, A Rogue by Any Other Name

“He was the kind of young man whose handsome face has brought him plenty of success in the past and is now ever-ready for a new encounter, a fresh-experience, always eager to set off into the unknown territory of a little adventure, never taken by surprise because he has worked out everything in advance and is waiting to see what happens, a man who will never overlook any erotic opportunity, whose first glance probes every woman's sensuality, and explores it, without discriminating between his friend's wife and the parlour-maid who opens the door to him. Such men are described with a certain facile contempt as lady-killers, but the term has a nugget of truthful observation in it, for in fact all the passionate instincts of the chase are present in their ceaseless vigilance: the stalking of the prey, the excitement and mental cruelty of the kill. They are constantly on the alert, always ready and willing to follow the trail of an adventure to the very edge of the abyss. They are full of passion all the time, but it is the passion of a gambler rather than a lover, cold, calculating and dangerous. Some are so persistent that their whole lives, long after their youth is spent, are made an eternal adventure by this expectation. Each of their days is resolved into hundreds of small sensual experiences - a look exchanged in passing, a fleeting smile, knees brushing together as a couple sit opposite each other - and the year, in its own turn, dissolves into hundreds of such days in which sensuous experience is the constantly flowing, nourishing, inspiring source of life.”
― Stefan Zweig, The Burning Secret and other stories

“The angel destroyed me! He seduced me with a pure voice, spoke kind words, and stroked my hair to lower my guard, to make me trust him, to trick me! He sullied my body, my voice, my heart; remade me as a terrifying monster; turned me into his companion! The angel was a disfigured phantom wearing a mask!”
― Mizuki Nomura, Book Girl and the Corrupted Angel (light novel)