Michelle

“It’s important to keep up appearances with books,” I explained. “Image goes a long way in this business.”

He dared a look over at me, still nervous but steadily recovering his composure. “I go more for content.”

"Really?” I repositioned slightly so that we were touching again, the soft flannel of his shirt brushing my bare skin. “Because I could have sworn a moment ago you were pretty caught up in outside appearance.”

His eyes shifted down again, but I could see a smile curving his lips. “Well. Some things are so striking, they can’t help but draw attention to themselves.”

"And doesn’t that make you curious about what’s inside?”

"Mostly it makes me want to get you some advanced copies.”

Advanced copies? What did he—?

"Seth? Seth, where—ah, there you are.” Paige turned down our aisle, Doug following behind. She brightened when she saw me, and I felt my stomach sink out of me and hit the floor with a thud as I put two and two together. No. No. It couldn’t be—

"Ah, Georgina. I see you’ve already met Seth Mortensen.”
― Richelle Mead, Succubus Blues

“What kind of sick bastard burns down a Christmas tree?”

Hugh and I exchanged glances. “That’s an excellent question,” I said dryly.

Peter looked startled. “Was it you?” he asked Hugh.

“No,” said the imp. “It was Carter.”

“Your Christmas tree was burned down by an angel?” asked Cody.

“Yup. The irony isn’t lost on me”
― Richelle Mead, Succubus Dreams

“This is insane," I said blankly. "I'm the instrument of an all-powerful primordial deity's wave of chaos and destruction."

"That's kind of extreme" said Dante jovially. "It's not like you work for Google or anything.”
― Richelle Mead, Succubus Dreams

“Seth was a wonderful kisser. He gave the kind of kisses that melted into your mouth and filled you with sweetness. They were like cotton candy.”
― Richelle Mead, Succubus Dreams