Kelsey

“He was now suddenly hot, as hot as if he’d been in a kitchen baking cinnamon rolls in August. I already knew vampires could sweat, under certain conditions, like being chained to a wall of a house with sunlight coming in through the windows. He was sweating again now. Some of his sweat fell on me.
I’ve always rather liked sweat. On other occasions when I’ve had a naked, sweating male body up against mine, I’ve tended to feel that it meant he was getting into what was going on. This usually produces a similar enthusiasm in me. Not that there was anything going on…exactly.
Yet. Remember how fast and suddenly this was all happening. And if he
was in shock so was I. Maybe my brain hadn’t fully come with me in that
zap through the void, like my clothes manifestly hadn’t. With a truly masterful erection now pressed against me I turned my head again and licked his sweating shoulder.
What happened next probably lasted about ten seconds. Maybe less.
I don’t think I heard the sound he made; I think I only felt it. He moved
his hands again, to tip my face toward him, and kissed me. I can’t say I
noticed any fangs. I had the lingering vestige of sense not to try anything
clever with my teeth, which with a human lover I would have. But I was
nonetheless busy with tongue and hands. I wriggled a little under him. I kissed him back as he tangled his fingers in my hair. I arched up off the floor a trifle to press myself more thoroughly against him. I was undoubtedly making some noises of my own…”
― Robin McKinley, Sunshine

“My kind [vampires] does not surprise easily," he said. "You surprised me, this morning. I have thus used up my full quota of shock and consternation for some interval."
I stared at him. "You made a *joke*."
"I have heard this kind of thing may happen...”
― Robin McKinley, Sunshine

“Tell me who you are. You need not tell me your name. Names have power, even human ones. Tell me where you live and what you do with your living.”
― Robin McKinley, Sunshine

“When you write your first novel you don't really know what you're doing. There may be writers out there who are brilliant, incisive and in control from their first 'Once upon a time'. I'm not one of them. Every once upon a time for me is another experience of white-water rafting in a leaky inner tube. And I have this theory that while the Story Council has its faults, it does have some idea that if books are going to get written, authors have to be able to write them.”
― Robin McKinley