Addison Wells Quotes

Eby knew all too well that there was a fine line when it came to grief. If you ignore it, it goes away, but then it always comes back when you least expect it. If you let it stay, if you make a place for it in your life, it gets too comfortable and it never leaves. It was best to treat grief like a guest. You acknowledge it, you cater to it, then you send it on its way.

When she looked in the mirror these days, she saw someone she didn't recognize...She saw an old woman trying to be beautiful, her skin dry and her wrinkles like cracks. She looked like a very well-dressed winter apple.

When it’s just you and me, there will be fire in the air. Forget the moon. The ocean will pull to our magnetism. We’ll control the tides with our love.

Tis not in mortals to command success; but we’ll do more, Sempronius, we’ll deserve it.

You didn't happen to see your future mother-in-law at that meeting today, did you?" May as well milk the effort. "Yes, the hormonal carp was present." "Marshall!" "She blew me a new one, as you would say." "She ripped you a new one," I correct. "The word blow has an entirely different meaning. I suggest you remove it from your lexicon.

What do you love?" "You for doing this - you in general. Chocolate, sushi, malt shakes. All things I'm highly deficient in at the moment. Well, other than you." "What do you hate?" "Chloe and clowns. Come to think of it, Chloe is a clown.

Things happened the way they were supposed to, and it was no use trying to predict what was going to come next. People liked to think otherwise, but what you thought had no practical influence on what eventually happened. You can't think yourself well. You can't make yourself fall out of love.

You’re hard,” she whispered, and I couldn’t help my smirk. “Yes. I’m very fucking hard.” “I want to see,” she boldly stated. No one could accuse Addison Lancaster of not going after what she wanted. “Well, we don’t always get what we want.

Sometimes the people who don’t know us very well make better mirrors. Too often, our friends feel they have to stand off to the side so they can protect us from the hurt of seeing our true selves.

Addison:"Well,she's not your type." Vincent:"Sweetness,if a girl's got tits and a warm pussy,she's my type.

When love's well-timed 'tis not a fault to love; The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise, Sink in the soft captivity together.

Laken, how well do you really know Wesley Paxton?” “I don’t know Wesley Paxton.” I lift my brows amused. “I know Wesley Parker.” “Who’s Wesley Parker?” “Who’s Wesley Paxton?” I cock my head to the side happy to take control of the conversation, albeit lopsided and psychotic.

Church history is not made by well-financed, well-resourced individuals and institutions. History is made by men and women of faith who have met with the living God. Without faith it is impossible to please God.

You are not going to do it?” His voice was calm but gravelly. A rich, deep baritone that held no fear. “I cannot say I am disappointed.” “I… I…” In the history of great comebacks, that had to rank in the top three. Idiot. “If you are not going to stake me, what do you intend?” “I… I…” Oh, come on, Addison. At least get out a verb. “I found you. All I want is for you to be well enough to leave.

You have me.” His serious eyes penetrate mine. “For the rest of your days, I will be here for you—someone to trust, to lean on—to have and to hold from this day on.” Marshall is a thing of beauty both inside and out. I reach up and touch my fingers to his lips. Somebody is going to be very lucky to love him fully one day. “Those sounded an awful lot like wedding vows,” I whisper. “You will be everything to me, Skyla. A lover…” He kisses a finger. “A friend…” He kisses the tip of another. “A spouse…” He pushes my finger into his hot mouth and I pluck it out. “Where shall we spend our honeymoon?” He goes right there without provocation. “No honeymoon—but, well…” I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m sort of not really seeing Gage, since I can’t trust him. Logan wants to wait until the end of the faction war before we see where our feelings lie, so I suppose I’m open.” “Open?” His head twitches to the side just so. “You know, for wooing—no kissing though. You’ll have to woo without lingual contact.” “No kissing.” His chest broadens under the guise of this new turn of events. “Fantastic.” He says it sharp as if this were a war and he just gained ground on the enemy. “What shall we do to commemorate our first day of coupledom?

Birds aren’t actually an awfully good analogy. You’d do better to think of us as bees.” “Bees?” said I, taken aback. “Well, we’ve too many limbs to be mammals,” he said reasonably. “And our social structure is much better represented by a hive than by a warren—or even by a rookery. And bees do sing, in a way.

The following brief points are like magic moccasins. They guarantee safe guidance through the forest of people. To walk safely, wear them! 1. The most persuasive power you have toward others is a mature self. 2. The mark of greatness is to be superior without feeling superior. 3. "The consciousness of being loved softens the keenest pang." (Joseph Addison) 4. The turning point in all your exterior relations comes when you start changing your inner self. 5. Strong people attract the weak. 6. Possessiveness and dependency are not states of love. 7. Your own level of being attracts the kind of people who enter your life. 8. "He is happy as well as great who needs neither to obey nor command in order to be something." (Goethe) 9. Your True Self cannot be afraid of anyone. 10. You break the cord of painful thought toward another person by snipping the connection within your own mind. 11. It is very painful to pretend to be someone. 12. Any sincere effort at bettering your human relations returns a reward. 13. Don't drain your energy by thinking negatively toward people who harm you. 14. You get along with others to the exact degree that you get along with yourself. 15. A real person stands out like a human being among statues.

A man may have the best of causes, the best of talents, and the best of tempers; he may write as well as Addison, or as strongly as Junius; but even with all this he cannot successfully answer, when attacked by The Jupiter. In such matters it is omnipotent. What the Czar is in Russia, or the mob in America, that The Jupiter is in England. Answer such an article! No, warden; whatever you do, don't do that.

Business was doing well, because all the locals knew that dishes made from the flowers that grew around the apple tree in the Waverley garden could affect the eater in curious ways. The biscuits with lilac jelly, the lavender tea cookies, and the tea cakes made with nasturtium mayonnaise the Ladies Aid ordered for their meetings once a month gave them the ability to keep secrets. The fried dandelion buds over marigold-petal rice, stuffed pumpkin blossoms, and rose-hip soup ensured that your company would notice only the beauty of your home and never the flaws. Anise hyssop honey butter on toast, angelica candy, and cupcakes with crystallized pansies made children thoughtful. Honeysuckle wine served on the Fourth of July gave you the ability to see in the dark. The nutty flavor of the dip made from hyacinth bulbs made you feel moody and think of the past, and the salads made with chicory and mint had you believing that something good was about to happen, whether it was true or not.

My interview was mostly conducted by Hugo Dyson, an Oxford ‘character’, known for his wit. I always found him alarming. He was like a hyperactive gnome, and stumped around on a walking stick which, when he was seized by one of his paroxysms of laughter, he would beat up and down as if trying to drive it through the floor. It brought to mind Rumpelstiltskin driving his leg into the ground in the fairy tale. He had been one of the ‘Inklings’ – the group of dons, including Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, who met during the 1930s in the Bird and Baby pub opposite St John’s. It was he and Tolkien who, one summer night in 1931, had converted Lewis to Christianity during a stroll along Addison’s Walk. So he was, at least in part, responsible for the Narnia books. I never asked him if he liked them. But it was well known that Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings was not to his taste. Tolkien had been in the habit of favouring the Inklings with readings from it, but one day Dyson, driven to exasperation, interjected, ‘Oh not another fucking elf!’ and after that the readings stopped. On

Loaves of fig and pepper bread, of course. But there was also lasagna cooked in miniature pumpkins, and pumpkin-seed brittle. Roasted red pepper soup, and spiced caramel potato cakes. Corn muffins and brown sugar popcorn balls and a dozen cupcakes, each with a different frosting, because what was first frost without frosting? Pear beer and clove ginger ale in dark bottles sat in the icy beverage tub. They ate well into the afternoon, and the more they ate, the more food there seemed to be. Pretzel buns and cranberry cheese and walnuts appearing, just when they thought they'd tasted everything.

What Claire could do with the edible flowers that grew around the cranky apple tree in the backyard was the stuff of legend. Everyone knew that if you got Claire to cater your anniversary party, she would make aioli sauce with nasturtiums and tulip cups filled with orange salad, and everyone would leave the party feeling both jealous and aroused. And if you got her to cater your child's birthday party, she would serve tiny strawberry cupcakes and candied violets and the children would all be well behaved and would take long afternoon naps. Claire had a true magic to her cooking when she used her flowers.

The pleasures of the fancy are more conducive to health, than those of the understanding, which are worked out by dint of thinking, and attended with too violent a labour of the brain. Delightful scenes, whether in nature, painting, or poetry, have a kindly influence on the body, as well as the mind, and not only serve to clear and brighten the imagination, but are able to disperse grief and melancholy, and to set the animal spirits in pleasing and agreeable motions. For this reason Sir Francis Bacon, in his Essay upon Health, has not thought it improper to prescribe to his reader a poem or a prospect, where he particularly dissuades him from knotty and subtle disquisitions, and advises him to pursue studies that fill the mind with splendid and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contemplations of nature.

Oppenheimer’s character witnesses offered eloquent and sometimes poignant testaments. George Kennan was unequivocal: In Oppenheimer, he said, we were faced with “one of the great minds of this generation of Americans.” Such a man, he suggested, could not “speak dishonestly about a subject which had really engaged the responsible attention of his intellect. . . . I would suppose that you might just as well have asked Leonardo da Vinci to distort an anatomical drawing as that you should ask Robert Oppenheimer to speak . . . dishonestly.” This provoked Robb to ask Kennan under cross-examination if he meant to suggest that different standards should be used when judging “gifted individuals.” Kennan: “I think the church has known that. Had the church applied to St. Francis the criteria relating solely to his youth, it would not have been able for him to be what he was later. . . . it is only the great sinners who become the great saints and in the life of the Government, there can be applied the analogy.” One member of the Gray Board, Dr. Ward Evans, interpreted this to mean that “all gifted individuals were more or less screwballs.” Kennan politely demurred: “No, sir; I would not say that they are screwballs, but I would say that when gifted individuals come to a maturity of judgment which makes them valuable public servants, you are apt to find that the road by which they have approached that has not been as regular as the road by which other people have approached it. It may have zigzags in it of various sorts.” Seeming to agree, Dr. Evans responded, “I think it would be borne out in the literature. I believe it was Addison, and someone correct me if I am wrong, that said, ‘Great wits are near to madness, closely allied and thin partitions do their bounds divide.

She shifted gears as they left Worth Avenue, hurtling them along the beach at just sublight speed. “Jesus, Addison, you are so blind,” she finally exploded. “She comes in playing the damsel in distress, and you buy all of it.” “She did n—” “‘Oh, Richard, I need your help,’” she mimicked, doing a startlingly good impression of Patricia’s soft, cultured Brit—especially since the two women had barely spoken a total of five words to one another. “’I’ve left Peter, and I so badly want to make a new start, but I just don’t know how to do it on my own. You’re so big and strong and successful, can’t you see it in your heart to help me?’” Samantha canted her eyes at him. “Did it go a little like that?” Christ. “Maybe,” he hedged. “But—” “See? She wants you back.” “Well, she can’t have me. I’m taken. But she asked for my help, and I’m partially the reason she’s in this position.” “No, she put herself on her back and then you put her in the next position.” “Even so—” “You can’t resist putting on your shining armor, can you?” she said more calmly, blowing out her breath. “And if I know it, then she knows it, too.” “Honestly, Samantha, I think it’s more a matter of Patricia actually being helpless than her acting that way to gain my assistance. I doubt she could find a grocery store on her own, much less the toothpaste aisle.” “But she’s not after toothpaste.” As they stopped at a light, Richard leaned over and grabbed Samantha’s face, kissing her hard on her surprised mouth. “Don’t worry about this. You won’t have to deal with her.” “Maybe not, but you will. And keep in mind that she’s got a subscriber website where she gives advice about how not to get screwed in a divorce.” “She does?” “Yes. Interesting stuff. You really need to spend more time surfing the ’net.” “Shit.” Before Samantha could follow up her smug look with more commentary, he took a breath. “I’ll make dumping the website a condition of my helping her.” “Great. She won’t need the site, anyway, because she’ll be busy screwing you over in person, instead.” “No one screws me over, Samantha. Ever.” “Yet, smart guy. Yet.

Praise for THIS TENDER LAND “If you liked Where the Crawdads Sing, you’ll love This Tender Land by best-selling author William Kent Krueger. This story is as big-hearted as they come.” —Parade Magazine “If you’re among the millions who raced through Where the Crawdads Sing this year and are looking for another expansive, atmospheric American saga, look to the latest from Krueger.” —Entertainment Weekly “Rich with graceful writing and endearing characters… this is a book for the ages.” —The Denver Post “There are very few books (or movies, for that matter) that you can describe as ‘epic.’ But This Tender Land is just that.… This story will make you look at the world from a variety of viewpoints, as you watch these lost souls befriend one another in order to form their own unbreakable family unit.” —Suspense Magazine “[The characters’] adventures are heartstirring and their view of our complex nation, in particular the upper Midwest, is encyclopedic, if an encyclopedia could stir your heart as well as your brain.” —Sullivan County Democrat “Reminiscent of Huck and Jim and their trip down the Mississippi, the bedraggled youngsters encounter remarkable characters and learn life lessons as they escape by canoe down the Gilead River in Minnesota.” —Bookpage “Long, sprawling, and utterly captivating, readers will eat up every delicious word of it.” —New York Journal of Books “Krueger has crafted an American saga, epic in scope, a glorious and grand adventure that speaks of the heart and history of this country.” —Addison Independent (Vermont) “More than a simple journey; it is a deeply satisfying odyssey, a quest in search of self and home. Richly imagined and exceptionally well plotted and written, the novel is, most of all, a compelling, often haunting story that will captivate both adult and young adult readers.” —Booklist “Absorbing and wonderfully paced, this fictional narrative set against historical truths mesmerizes the reader with its evocations of compassion, courage, and self-discovery.… This Tender Land is a gripping, poignant tale swathed in both mythical and mystical overtones.” —Bob Drury, New York Times bestselling author of The Heart of Everything That Is “This Tender Land is a moving portrait of a time and place receding from the collective memory, but leaving its mark on the heart of what the nation has become.” —CrimeReads

FROM THE WAVERLEY KITCHEN JOURNAL Angelica - Will shape its meaning to your need, but it is particularly good for calming hyper children at your table. Anise Hyssop - Eases frustration and confusion. Bachelor’s Button - Aids in finding things that were previously hidden. A clarifying flower. Chicory - Conceals bitterness. Gives the eater a sense that all is well. A cloaking flower. Chive Blossom - Ensures you will win an argument. Conveniently, also an antidote for hurt feelings. Dandelion - A stimulant encouraging faithfulness. Frequent side effects are blindness to flaws and spontaneous apologies. Honeysuckle - For seeing in the dark, but only if you use honeysuckle from a brush of vines at least two feet thick. A clarifying flower. Hyacinth Bulb - Causes melancholy and thoughts of past regrets. Use only dried bulbs. A time-travel flower. Lavender - Raises spirits. Prevents bad decisions resulting from fatigue or depression. Lemon Balm - Upon consumption, for a brief period of time the eater will think and feel as he did in his youth. Please note if you have any former hellions at your table before serving. A time-travel flower. Lemon Verbena - Produces a lull in conversation with a mysterious lack of awkwardness. Helpful when you have nervous, overly talkative guests. Lilac - When a certain amount of humility is in order. Gives confidence that humbling yourself to another will not be used against you. Marigold - Causes affection, but sometimes accompanied by jealousy. Nasturtium - Promotes appetite in men. Makes women secretive. Secret sexual liaisons sometimes occur in mixed company. Do not let your guests out of your sight. Pansy - Encourages the eater to give compliments and surprise gifts. Peppermint - A clever method of concealment. When used with other edible flowers, it confuses the eater, thus concealing the true nature of what you are doing. A cloaking flower. Rose Geranium - Produces memories of past good times. Opposite of Hyacinth Bulb. A time-travel flower. Rose Petal - Encourages love. Snapdragon - Wards off the undue influences of others, particularly those with magical sensibilities. Squash and Zucchini Blossoms - Serve when you need to be understood. Clarifying flowers. Tulip - Gives the eater a sense of sexual perfection. A possible side effect is being susceptible to the opinions of others. Violet - A wonderful finish to a meal. Induces calm, brings on happiness, and always assures a good night’s sleep.

He was shaving when she stepped out of the shower. She ran a towel over her hair and body. She was generously applying lotion to her body as he splashed water on his face. “Fuck, you’ve got nice tits.” She watched his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were focused on her chest. His dick was hard. Very hard. “Do you want to fuck them?” He exhaled as he leaned against the vanity, lifting his eyes to meet hers. “Well, I do now.

with the relaxing environment of sisterhood and education they were so striving for. Well, obviously. But nobody seemed worried about whether or not Addison felt she had sisterhood, or a relaxing environment for education. She had nothing. Her father had been killed in front of her only days

Make each program do one thing well. To do a new job, build afresh rather than complicate old programs by adding new features.

Are you really dating Rick Addison?” the darkest-haired of the girls, Emma, asked. “I am.” “Awesome.” “Pause the game, Haley,” Livia instructed. “We need to pay Sam, and then she’s going to help get Anatomy Man back.” Great. Now she could rob piggy banks. “You don’t need to pay me. We’ll call it a family courtesy.

A man must be excessively stupid, as well as uncharitable, who believes that there is no virtue but on his own side, and that there are not men as honest as himself who may differ from him in political principles.

Cato Meanwhile we’ll sacrifice to liberty. Remember, O my friends, the laws, the rights, The generous plan of power delivered down, From age to age, by your renowned forefathers, 75 (So dearly bought, the price of so much blood,) Oh let it never perish in your hands! But piously transmit it to your children. Do thou, great liberty, inspire our souls, And make our lives in thy possession happy, 80 Or our deaths glorious in thy just defence.

His grandfather said that things happened the way they were supposed to, and it was no use trying to predict what was going to come next. People liked to think otherwise, but what you thought had no practical influence on what eventually happened. You can't think yourself well. You can't make yourself fall out of love.

O coward conscience! how dost thou afflict me?The lights burn blue —— Is it not dead midnight?Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.Shakesp.Richard III. A melancholy tear afflicts my eye,And my heart labours with a sudden sigh.Prior.2. The passive to be afflicted, has often at before the causal noun. The mother was so afflicted at the loss of a fine boy, who was her only son, that she died for grief of it.Addison.Spect.   AFFLICTEDNESS  (AFFLI'CTEDNESS)   n.s.[from afflicted.]The state of affliction, or of being afflicted; sorrowfulness; grief.   AFFLICTER  (AFFLI'CTER)   n.s.[from afflict.]The person that afflicts.   AFFLICTION  (AFFLI'CTION)   n.s.[afflictio, Lat.]1. The cause of pain or sorrow; calamity. To the flesh, as the Apostle himself granteth, all affliction is naturally grievous: therefore nature, which causeth fear, teacheth to pray against all adversity.Hooker,b. v. ¶ 48. We’ll bring you to Windsor, to one Mr. Brook,

Basic needs The second-most frequent definition of peace involved basic needs and poverty. Many people told us that there exists no peace without a minimum of material well-being. As a thirty-five-year-old woman in Ruhororo told us: ‘How can you have peace if your stomach is empty?’ Indeed, the image that dominates this category is overwhelmingly the empty stomach: no peace can exist on an empty stomach. It is not only women telling us that. Here is a quote from a twenty-nine-year-old male migrant peanut seller in Musaga: ‘Peace is foremost having bread. If my children and those of my neighbors don’t cry of hunger at night I have peace in my heart.’ Different assumptions seem to underlie this statement. First, people are clearly telling us that, for them, peace means nothing without improvements in the quality of life. This confirms scholarship: as Tony Addison (2003: 1) states so well: ‘The end of war saves lives – including those of the poor who are often its main victims – but it may not deliver much if any improvement in livelihoods.’ This is confirmed by the fact that this definition seems to occur most frequently in places where there has been major suffering from the war and where there is significant social discontent that nothing has changed since the end of the war (Ruhororo; Kamenge). Second,

And there was, finally, another place on West Street where new ideas could now spread. Attendance was allowed by invitation only. Some of the Labs’ newest arrivals after the Depression had decided to further educate themselves through study groups where they would make their way through scientific textbooks, one chapter a week, and take turns lecturing one another on the newest advances in theoretical and experimental physics. One study group in particular, informally led by William Shockley at the West Street labs, and often joined by Brattain, Fisk, Townes, and Wooldridge, among others, met on Thursday afternoons. The men were interested in a particular branch of physics that would later take on the name “solid-state physics.” It explored the properties of solids (their magnetism and conductivity, for instance) in terms of what happens on their surfaces as well as deep in their atomic structure. And the men were especially interested in the motions of electrons as they travel through the crystalline lattice of metals. “What had happened, I think, is that these young Ph.D.’s were introducing what is essentially an academic concept into this industrial laboratory,” one member of the group, Addison White, would tell the physics historian Lillian Hoddeson some years later.

Finally, we’ll ask the most important question of all—how can we respond to the invitation to follow him and to let him teach us to fish for people?

People of peace are Prepared. The messengers must take the initiative to find the person of peace. As the messengers step out in faith and obedience, there will be signs that God is powerfully at work as he leads them to the person he has prepared. Receptive. The person of peace welcomes the messenger and the message. Not every receptive person is a person of peace, but every person of peace is receptive. Influential. The person of peace’s reputation may be good or bad, but it is well known. These are people who, when they respond to Christ, will refer others to him.

Kate used to believe that she could make anything happen. And if the signs weren’t there, well, then she would create the signs.

Scholars argue that many gay men might unconsciously “learn” the gay voice not only from their communities but also from TV and movies. Since the nineteenth century, gay male characters have had a place in mainstream American entertainment; it’s just that until the 1990s or so they were always in the form of some extreme stereotype, like the wealthy, foppish “pansy” or the hyperintellectual cunning villain. In Do I Sound Gay? David Thorpe explains that growing up, he didn’t have any gay figures to relate to in his community (at least none that were out),* but he knew what gay men sounded like because of a few on-screen archetypes. These included Liberace and Truman Capote, with their nasally affects, as well as sophisticated movie villains like Waldo Lydecker in 1944’s Laura and Addison DeWitt in 1950’s All About Eve, both portrayed as impeccably dressed, acid-tongued dandies.

I sighed en route to the front porch, where Paws was waiting. “That went well,” he said. “I can’t hear you when you say things I don’t want to hear,” I said. “Must be real quiet for you around here then,” he said.

draw in visitors. We’ll have dessert and a few savory treats as well.

He afterwards fell into an account of the diversions which had passed in his house during the holidays, for Sir Roger, after the laudable custom of his ancestors, always keeps open house at Christmas. I learned from him, that he had killed eight fat hogs for this season, that he had dealt about his chines very liberally amongst his neighbors, and that in particular he had sent a string of hog's puddings with a pack of cards to every poor family in the parish. "I have often thought," says Sir Roger, " it happens very well that Christmas should fall out in the middle of the winter. It is the most dead, uncomfortable time of the year, when the poor people would suffer very much from their poverty and cold, if they had not good cheer, warm fires, and Christmas gambols to support them.

Because going doesn’t mean all gone. We'll meet again one day.

Recipe Hello from Honey Hollow! Lottie here! I hope you’re in the mood for something devilishly delicious. My famous, or rather infamous devil’s food cake is well—to die for. If you have a serious hankering for chocolate, you will not regret this. But be warned, your entire home will hold the scent of warm, tempting chocolate. It is rather hard to resist. Happy baking! From the kitchen of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery Devil’s Food Cake 1½ cup of softened butter ¾ cup unsweetened baking coco 2 cups sugar 3 eggs 3 cups sifted all-purpose flour ¼ tsp salt 1 ½ tsp baking soda ¾ cup milk 1 cup hot water 1 tsp white distilled vinegar 1 tablespoon vanilla extract Instructions Preheat oven 350° Grease and dust with coco powder or flour, two 9 inch round pans or a 9x13 pan. *I prefer to use a stand mixer. Although mixing by hand works well, too. Mix and cream together coco, sugar, butter, milk and eggs. Slowly mix in one cup of hot water. Add flour, salt, baking soda, vinegar and vanilla extract. Pour into two pans evenly, or a single prepared pan. Bake at 350° for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the middle, comes out clean. Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery’s Go-to Chocolate Frosting Recipe 6 tablespoons softened butter ¾ cup unsweetened baking coco Pinch of salt 3 tablespoons hot water 1 ¾ cup of powdered sugar In a mixing bowl, cream butter, coco, salt, and water. Stir until it reaches a smooth finish. Slowly add in powdered sugar. Make sure it reaches your desired consistency. If it’s too thick, add a touch more water. If it’s too thin, add in a touch more powdered sugar. Frost your cooled devil’s food cake and enjoy!

No unregistered has a job that suits thir hungers, Doctor, a fact you know as well as I do.

I disliked the sound of their laughter; they sounded intoxicated, although not with alcohol. They had something-or they thought they had something that would let them negotiate with a vampiric hunt. They were drunk or a feeling of invisibility. And that did not bode well for their prisoners.

Ten years might as well have been as many days.

Well, you have one of three options. One, we let her rabid boyfriend take a bite out of you. Two, I sic my twisted fuck of a brother on you. Or three, I handle it quick and easy and you won’t wake up for a couple months.

It’s part of my work.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and frowned. “A part which keeps you under the impression that all vampires are like the one you executed today.” “Well, aren’t they?” I challenged him. “At least, inside, where it counts?” Corbin looked at me steadily for a long moment, his silver-blue eyes unreadable. I stared back, unwilling to back down. At last, long after the silence had gone past uncomfortable and entered the realm of downright painful, he spoke. “Please tell me you do not really believe that, Addison,” he said quietly. “If that is truly how you view my kind then I have no chance of winning your heart.” His words stirred something inside me, a flutter in my stomach, a flush in my cheeks… I didn’t know what it was exactly but for some reason I couldn’t look at him. “Addison?” he said softly. “Stop screwing around, Corbin,” I said roughly. “This…this thing between us is a business deal and that’s all. You know it and I know it. I’m just here to be your arm candy until that sick bastard Roderick is gone. After that, our deal is done.” “Yes, so you keep reminding me.

Forgive me. I thought you were protesting the blood because you didn’t want me to bond you to me.” “What?” This was something entirely new to consider. “You bonded me to you? As in for life? For all eternity?” “For as long as I live, anyway,” Corbin said. “It was the only way to save your life. I had taken too much of your blood—you were dying, Addison.” His tone took on a pleading tone. “Please tell me you would not rather be dead than bound to me.” “I could ask you to say the same thing,” I pointed out. “You were checking out on me without even telling me first.” “I didn’t think you cared.” His deep voice was soft, almost wistful. “Well, I do. I love you, damn it,” I said, poking him in the chest again.

What is this?" Emily asked, looking in the largest Styrofoam container. There was a bunch of dry-looking chopped meat inside. "Barbecue." "This isn't barbecue," Emily said. "Barbecue is hot dogs and hamburgers on a grill." Vance laughed, which automatically made Emily smile. "Ha! Blasphemy! In North Carolina, barbecue means pork, child. Hot dogs and hamburgers on a grill- that's called, 'cooking out' around here," he explained with sudden enthusiasm. "And there are two types of North Carolina barbecue sauce-Lexington and Eastern North Carolina. Here, look." He excitedly found a container of sauce and showed her, accidentally spilling some on the table. "Lexington-style is the sweet sugar-and-tomato-based sauce, some people call it the red sauce, that you put on chopped or pulled pork shoulder. Julia's restaurant is Lexington-style. But there are plenty of Eastern North Carolina-style restaurants here. They use a thin, tart, vinegar-and-pepper based sauce. And, generally, they use the whole hog. But no matter the style, there's always hush puppies and coleslaw. And, if I'm not mistaken, those are slices of Milky Way cake. Julia makes the best Milky Way cakes." "Like the candy bar?" "Yep. The candy bars are melted and poured into the batter. It means 'Welcome.'" Emily looked over to the cake Julia had brought yesterday morning, still on the counter. "I thought an apple stack cake meant 'Welcome.'" "Any kind of cake means 'Welcome,'" he said. "Well, except for coconut cake and fried chicken when there's a death." Emily looked at him strangely. "And occasionally a broccoli casserole," he added.

Willa had always thought her grandmother was sweet, but she'd been one of those people with invisible thorns, preventing others from getting too close. Georgie Jackson had been a nervous, watchful person, not at all frivolous, which Willa had found extraordinary, considering how rich the Jacksons had once been. But after her family had lost their money, Georgie had worked as a maid for various wealthy families in town until she was well into her seventies.

Addison,” Taylor said quietly. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Corbin really cares for you?” “What? Don’t be silly.” I frowned. “I’m just a conquest to him—it’s a feather in his cap to be able to say that a non-glam Auditor is his consort. It’s like… like a mobster showing off his girlfriend who also just happens to be a cop or a judge.” “Maybe not.” Taylor looked thoughtful. “I’ve heard rumors about Corbin.” “Such as?” I raised an eyebrow and made a go on signal with one hand. “Well, he’s not nearly the playboy he makes himself out to be for one thing,” Taylor said. “He’s almost never with anyone—he mostly keeps to himself except to feed occasionally. And he never pays the Crimson Debt or lets anyone else pay it for him.” “Meaning he doesn’t feed on anyone during sex or let them feed on him?” I said. She nodded. “Honestly, I don’t think he has that much sex at all. Not even glam-sex.” “Oh come on, Taylor—he’s a vampire,” I objected. “Sex and blood, that’s what they’re all about—that’s what they do.” “Most of them maybe. But if what I’ve heard is right, Corbin mostly keeps to himself.” “But why?” I asked, frowning. “I mean, it’s not for lack of willing partners, I’m sure.” He got under my skin like a bad rash but there was no denying Corbin was gorgeous. “I don’t know why, exactly.” Taylor shrugged. “They say he had someone once—a human—but he lost her. Now he mostly keeps to himself out of respect for her memory.” I thought of what he’d told me, about having a human female he loved enough to be gentle with once and how she’d “died anyway.” “Why didn’t he just bond her to him?” I asked. Vamps can bond any human they want, which greatly increases the human’s lifespan, sometimes even enough to match the vamp’s. It makes them a little more durable too, though under the law they’re still not supposed to have sex with the vamp that bonds them. “I don’t know.” Taylor shook her head. “But I do know you’re pretty much the only girl he’s shown an interest in. I mean, he does a lot of casual flirting, you know?” “Yeah, I know.” I nodded. Nobody was better at eye-fucking than Corbin. “But none of it amounts to anything. I mean, I’ve never heard of him taking anyone into one of his daylight resting places the way he took you. Not vampire, not human—no one,” Taylor emphasized.

S and F-ed?” “It stands for sucked and fucked.” I coughed. “I know it doesn’t sound nice but it’s a whole hell of a lot nicer than describing what his victims looked like when he was finished with them.” “Ah, yes…” Corbin sighed wearily. “The lovely sights you get to see at your job.” I shrugged again. “It’s part of my work.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and frowned. “A part which keeps you under the impression that all vampires are like the one you executed today.” “Well, aren’t they?” I challenged him. “At least, inside, where it counts?” Corbin looked at me steadily for a long moment, his silver-blue eyes unreadable. I stared back, unwilling to back down. At last, long after the silence had gone past uncomfortable and entered the realm of downright painful, he spoke. “Please tell me you do not really believe that, Addison,” he said quietly. “If that is truly how you view my kind then I have no chance of winning your heart.” His words stirred something inside me, a flutter in my stomach, a flush in my cheeks… I didn’t know what it was exactly but for some reason I couldn’t look at him. “Addison?” he said softly. “Stop screwing around, Corbin,” I said roughly. “This… this thing between us is a business deal and that’s all. You know it and I know it. I’m just here to be your arm candy until that sick bastard Roderick is gone. After that, our deal is done.” “Yes, so you keep reminding me.

Well?” Corbin sucked in a breath. “You look lovely. I knew that color would suit you.” “It’s not bad,” I said grudgingly. “It is beautiful, as are you. We need only one more thing. Here.” Before I could ask what the one more thing was, he was suddenly kneeling in front of me with a box in his hands. He opened it, revealing black, strappy heels so high I was surprised they fit in the box. The open-toed design made me glad I’d had a pedicure recently. “Are those Jimmy Choos?” I asked, as he took one out and reached for me. “Manolo Blahniks,” he said absently. “Here, let me put them on you.” “Let me sit down first, I’ll fall over,” I objected as he lifted my right foot. “You’ll be fine. Just hold on to me.” I was forced to do just that, holding on to his broad shoulders as he slipped first one shoe on and then the other. They had a simple yet elegant design with a single strap over the toes and another around the ankle. Corbin’s long fingers seemed like they would be too large to buckle the delicate ankle strap but he managed with no problem. “There,” he murmured when he was done. I expected him to get up but instead he remained kneeling at my feet, looking up at me. “Perfect. Addison, you are a goddess.” “Stop it.” I could feel my cheeks getting hot and it occurred to me that I was still holding on to his shoulders although both my feet were planted firmly on the ground. I caught a whiff of his scent—that cool fragrance that reminded me of the ocean somehow. I wanted to step away but I couldn’t. “Why should I stop?” Corbin growled softly. “Why should I not say what I think? When was the last time a man told you how beautiful you are?

Is Taylor okay?” I asked anxiously, clutching the phone to my ear. “Please tell me she’s all right, Corbin. Please.” “She is well and resting comfortably,” he said soothingly. “In fact, she has already had a pint of blood and two cheeseburgers today. Apparently, though the bond between you is broken, the effects of the prophecy still hold true.” “Whose blood?” I asked, immediately jealous. I didn’t give a damn about the cheeseburgers, but the blood… “Who is she drinking from?” He sighed. “From Addison, unfortunately. I do not like it but my beloved consort will have it no other way.” “I don’t like it either,” I growled. I knew there was nothing but friendship between Taylor and her best friend but still… taking blood was a very sensual act. I wanted to feel Taylor’s fangs deep in my throat again, not hear that they were buried in someone else. “Come and feed her yourself, then,” Corbin said, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world. “I am certain she would like to see you.” “Right…” I said sarcastically. “I don’t think so, Corbin. I’m sure she’s seen enough.” “If you are referring to your beast—” “Hell, yes, that’s what I’m referring to,” I snarled. “She saw me at my worst. In my cursed form. You know that female weres won’t even associate with a cursed wolf? Let alone mate with one—they’re too afraid to pass the curse on to their offspring.” “Taylor is not a were,” he said softly. “But she is a not fully a vampire, either. She is something wholly new and different. However, there is one thing that I don’t believe has changed—the way she feels for you. Truly, you should come and see her.” “I don’t think so,” I said.

Look, maybe it’s none of those things or a combination of them. All I know for sure is if you don’t talk to him you’ll never know. Call him.” “I can’t—he hasn’t called me.” “So?” “So, I don’t want to be the one to call first—it’s too desperate,” I protested. “Will you listen to yourself? You’re a strong, independent woman—a supernatural creature with almost unlimited physical strength and immense magical capabilities and you’re acting like you’re back in high school,” she scoffed. “Excuse me,” I snapped. “I know it must seem stupid to you but this is complicated. I don’t want to chase after him if he doesn’t want me.” “Of course he wants you. He came after you even though he knew he was walking into a trap. Even though he was pretty sure he was going to die—he still came. And you…” Addison pointed at me with her white plastic spoon. “You came back from the freaking dead for him.” I frowned. “I don’t actually remember a whole lot of that.” “Well, Gwendolyn does. She said you were all set to go into the light—and by the way, you ought to tell your bigoted parents that because apparently vampires can go to Heaven. Anyway, you were almost past the pearly gates and she got you to come back by saying Victor’s name.” “She did?” I asked. I had vague, blurry images of a vast black pit filled with writhing things and the horror of falling… and then waking up in my own body. But that was as far as my memory went. Addison nodded. “You weren’t even going to come back for me, roomie—but you came for him. You came back for Victor.” She pushed her spoon back into the upside down banana split. “I can’t eat any more of this. I’m going to be sick.” “I didn’t know I was that far gone,” I said quietly. “I mean, I had some vague memories but I thought they were just dreams… nightmares.” “They were real,” Addison said shortly. “I didn’t want to talk to you about it because I didn’t want to think about how close… how close I came to losing you.” She sniffed dabbed at her eyes with another paper napkin. “Addison…” She cleared her throat, obviously trying to get control of her emotions. “I don’t know for sure but I got the impression that Gwendolyn risked a lot to bring you back—apparently, it’s kind of a big no-no to snatch someone from death’s door like that. But she wouldn’t have been able to do it if you weren’t willing to come. And the only reason you were willing was—” “Victor,” I finished for her, in a whisper. “Right.” She nodded decisively.

With Victor,” I continued, forcing myself to go on. “It’s almost like… I’m starting to heal. He’s so kind and patient… so gentle. I never would have believed it when I first saw him but, Addison, he’s one of the gentlest men I’ve ever met. I don’t feel afraid with him. I feel protected… cherished.” I ran a hand through my hair. “That’s how I felt anyway. Now I’ve gone and ruined everything.” “By having one lousy little fight? No way!” Addison declared. “Corbin and I fight and disagree all the time but I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.” “Yes, but the things I said to Victor…” I swallowed the lump that wanted to form in my throat. “I reminded him that our relationship is only temporary, Addison. I practically said I was out the door the minute the Laws of Ownership were fulfilled.” “Oh, hon… I’m sure he didn’t take you seriously,” she protested. “Yes, he did. You should have seen the look on his face—so hurt and angry. Oh, Addison…” I put a hand over my eyes. “Why did I have to drive him away like that?” “Well, it does sound like he was getting kind of possessive,” she said thoughtfully. “I think that’s a were thing too—Corbin was actually counting on it when he bonded you to Victor in the first place. But maybe it’s time to set some ground rules before you go much further.” “That’s the thing—we’re not going anywhere. Except for this pack thing, tonight.” I looked at my watch. “If he shows up.” “He’ll show,” Addison assured me. “He knows you don’t know the way to the council meeting place by yourself and he won’t let you go alone. You’ll see.

Do you feel well, Addison?” “I’m fine.” For some reason I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Are you certain?” He cupped my cheek and wiped something away with his thumb—a tear. “Then why are you crying?” “I’m not.” I swiped at my eyes and tried to smile. “I was just… shocked when I thought you were… were gone.” “Shocked, hmm?” He looked at me more closely. “Perhaps you were upset? Could it be that you realized that you could return my love after all?” “Nothing like that,” I said, pulling away from him. “More like… I didn’t like the idea of the world without you in it.” I looked at him at last. “Satisfied?” Corbin sighed and for one quick instant a look of infinite sadness crossed his face. Then he smiled. “Not nearly satisfied, darling. But it’s nice at least to know that you will miss me when—” He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. “I mean, that you would miss me if I were gone.

Damn it, Addison—I was prepared to die. I never asked you to give your life to bring me back. To risk a horrible and painful death out of some twisted sense of obligation and duty.” “Is that what you think?” I demanded. “Listen to me, you big asshole—” I reached up and poked him angrily in the center of his broad chest. “I didn’t do it out of duty or because I owed you anything for saving Taylor or protecting me from Roderick or anything else like that. I did it because I love you! And you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought if you can’t see that.” Corbin’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “You are lying.” “What?” I glared at him and shook my head. “I tell you I love you and you say I’m lying? Why the hell would you say a thing like that?” “When I was giving you my blood in an effort to heal you from my savage attack, you pushed me away,” he accused. “You said, ‘Not that! Anything but that!’” I felt suddenly cold as I remembered his blood filling my mouth. “I was talking about you turning me into a vampire. You… you didn’t, did you? Because I love you, Corbin, but I don’t want to be like you. Living on blood, never going out in the sunlight… it wouldn’t be right for me. You can understand that, can’t you?” “I can.” He nodded and his eyes suddenly softened. “Forgive me. I thought you were protesting the blood because you didn’t want me to bond you to me.” “What?” This was something entirely new to consider. “You bonded me to you? As in for life? For all eternity?” “For as long as I live, anyway,” Corbin said. “It was the only way to save your life. I had taken too much of your blood—you were dying, Addison.” His tone took on a pleading tone. “Please tell me you would not rather be dead than bound to me.” “I could ask you to say the same thing,” I pointed out. “You were checking out on me without even telling me first.” “I didn’t think you cared.” His deep voice was soft, almost wistful. “Well, I do. I love you, damn it,” I said, poking him in the chest again. Corbin caught my finger in his big hand and then pulled me closer until I was pressed up against his tall frame. “Addison,” he murmured, cupping my face in both hands. “I have loved you from the moment I first saw you. Say you will stay with me now, promise never to leave.” “I promise,” I said and he kissed me, gently at first and then with more passion.