Shelly

“The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp's mouth, and pulled them up by their edges.
"What are you doing?" Ghastek asked.
"My hole puncher broke."
"You have no respect for the undead.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Burns

“I'm coming back into focus when Caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home. Peeta hesitates, then gives an unconvincing shake of his head.

Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what’s her name?" says Caesar.

Peeta sighs. "Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping."

Sounds of sympathy from the crowd. Unrequited love they can relate to.

She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.

I don’t know, but a lot of boys like her," says Peeta.

So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She can’t turn you down then, eh?" says Caesar encouragingly.

I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning...won’t help in my case," says Peeta.

Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified.

Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. "Because...because...she came here with me.”
― Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

“Last night you said you wanted to know what to expect so you could better select your attire. I told you we were going to visit a vampire in a Goth-den tonight. Why, then, Ms. Lane, do you look like a perky rainbow?”
― Karen Marie Moning, Darkfever

“Yes. What is it, guilt, revenge, love, what?”
I swallowed. “I live alone.”
"And your point is?”
"You have the Pack. You’re surrounded by people who would fall over themselves for the pleasure of your company. I have no one. My parents are dead, my entire family is gone. I have no friends. Except Jim, and that’s more of a working relationship than anything else. I have no lover. I can’t even have a pet, because I’m not at the house often enough to keep it from starving. When I come crawling home, bleeding and filthy and exhausted, the house is dark and empty. Nobody keeps the porch light on for me. Nobody hugs me and says, ‘Hey, I’m glad you made it. I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried.’ Nobody cares if I live or die. Nobody makes me coffee, nobody holds me before I go to bed, nobody fixes my medicine when I’m sick. I’m by myself.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Burns