“I’d said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass.”
― Blood Promise
― Blood Promise
“All of us are taking the night off," Wrath said abruptly. "We need some regroup time."
Rhage snorted from across the table. "You're not going to make us play Monopoly again, are you?"
Yup." A collective groan rose up from the Brotherhood, one that Wrath ignored. "Right after dinner.”
― Lover Unbound
Rhage snorted from across the table. "You're not going to make us play Monopoly again, are you?"
Yup." A collective groan rose up from the Brotherhood, one that Wrath ignored. "Right after dinner.”
― Lover Unbound
“They don't fit you?" V asked his roommate.
"Not the point. No offense, but these are wicked Village People." Butch held his heavy arms out and turned in a circle, his bare chest catching the light. "I mean, come on."
"They're for fighting, not fashion."
"So are kilts, but you don't see me rocking the tartan."
"And thank God for that. You're too bowlegged to pull that shit off."
Butch assumed a bored expression. "You can bite me.”
― Lover Unbound
"Not the point. No offense, but these are wicked Village People." Butch held his heavy arms out and turned in a circle, his bare chest catching the light. "I mean, come on."
"They're for fighting, not fashion."
"So are kilts, but you don't see me rocking the tartan."
"And thank God for that. You're too bowlegged to pull that shit off."
Butch assumed a bored expression. "You can bite me.”
― Lover Unbound
“Goodness,' Myrnin said quietly. 'I don't think I should be watching this. I don't think I'm old enough.”
― Fade Out
― Fade Out
“And then Tohr said softly, "I'm lucky to have found love, I thank the Scribe Virgin every day that Wellsie is in my life."
Wrath's Temper surged, set off by something he couldn't put his finger on. "You're pathetic."
Tohr hissed. "And you've been dead for hundreds of years. You're just too mean to find a grave and lie down."
Wrath threw the leather jacket on the floor. "At least I'm not pussy whipped."
Nice. F*cking. Suit.”
―
Wrath's Temper surged, set off by something he couldn't put his finger on. "You're pathetic."
Tohr hissed. "And you've been dead for hundreds of years. You're just too mean to find a grave and lie down."
Wrath threw the leather jacket on the floor. "At least I'm not pussy whipped."
Nice. F*cking. Suit.”
―
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