Mm Mm No Me Quotes

I know I’m just a human woman, but so help me, if anything happens to her while she’s with you—” “I assure you she’ll be in good hands.” “Mm-hm, that’s part of what I’m worried about.” She pointed at his hands. “Hands off, mister.

Dill?" Mm?" Why do you reckon Boo Radleys never run off?" Dill sighed a long sigh and turned away from me. Maybe he doesn't have anywhere to run off to

Peter to Austin: "Hard-ons don't make you think less. They make you think stupid. Which makes me think you must have one 24/7.

Memory is a tenuous thing. . . . flickering glimpses, blue and white, like ancient, decomposing 16mm film. Happiness escapes me there, where faces are vague and yesterday seems to come tied up in ribbons of pain. Happiness? I look for it intead in today, where memory is something I can still touch, still rely on. I find it in the smiles of new friends, the hope blossoming inside. My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.

Heart Breaking, I think that if Dad, staring down the sight of a 10mm, would only tell me he loves me, I could easily change my mind... ...but he won't.

He..." Richard began. "The marquis. Well, you know, to be honest, he seems a little bit dodgy to me." Door stopped. The steps dead-ended in a rough brick wall. "Mm," she agreed. "He's a little bit dodgy in the same way that rats are a little bit covered in fur.

You were the only thing that made me feel safe when the earthquakes threatened to break me. I needed you here because when you're not here, I don't have a home.

Lenah?" "Yeah?" I replied. "Will you go to winter prom with me?" "Of course," I whispered, sure I would fall asleep in moments. "Justin?" "Mm-Hmm?" he said, moments from sleep himself. "What's a prom?

Bending his head, Kai pressed his lips to her knuckles. The plating had no nerve endings, and yet the touch sent a tingle of electricity along her arm. “Cinder?” “Mm?” He lifted his gaze. “Just to be clear, you’re not using your mind powers on me right now, are you?” She blinked. “Of course not.” “Just checking.” Then he slid his arms around her waist and kissed her. Cinder gasped, pressing her palms against his chest. Kai pulled her closer. Seconds later, her brain began registering all the new chemicals flooding her system. INCREASED LEVELS OF DOPAMINE AND ENDORPHINS, REDUCED AMOUNTS OF CORTISOL, ERRATIC PULSE, RISING BLOOD PRESSURE … Leaning into him, Cinder sent the messages away. Her hands tentatively made their way to his shoulders, before stringing around his neck.

Honey, are you being safe?' 'I wear my seat belt, yes.' 'Does this Rob Lovely wear a seat belt too?' Matty sighed. 'Mother, seat belts should be worn at all times when in a moving vehicle. Didn't you teach me that?' 'So long as we're both talking about condoms here, then I'll leave it.' 'Consider it left.

My new 9mm didn’t fit my hand as well as my old one, but it was rapidly becoming a familiar weight. At first I’d decided it was okay to wear as long as I shot only at supernatural bad guys who were already shooting at me. Lately, I’d had to broaden that definition to anytime my life was in danger. I was currently leaning toward a slightly more comprehensive rule somewhere between proactive self-defense and the-bastards-had-it-coming, which, if I survived long enough, I intended to blame on my deranged partner rubbing off on me.

Dalek Sec: The Doctor will open the Ark! The Doctor: Ha ha, the Doctor will not. Dalek Sec: You have no way of resisting! The Doctor: Mm, you got me there. [withdrawing the sonic screwdriver] Although, there is always this. Dalek Sec: A sonic probe? The Doctor: [with jocular bravado] That's screwdriver. Dalek Sec: It is harmless. The Doctor: Ohh, yes. Harmless is just the word: that's why I like it! Doesn't kill, doesn't wound, doesn't maim. But I'll tell you what it does do: It is very good at opening doors. [He pushes the switch and the doors explode inwards; Jake's squad and some Cybermen run in and open fire.]

My life is over. My one forever love has been snatched away, condemned by my own father's rules to die, just because he loved me. I am without a home, without a single person to love. And after having discovered love, lived for a short while surrounded by love, that is to much to bear. I am a pariah, at church, at school. The few people I once called friends have betrayed me and caused the death of my husband, our innocent child. And so they should die too. All of them. Dad. Bishop Crandall. Trevor, Becca, Emily. With the pull of a 10mm hair trigger, their lives will end at sacrament meeting. Such lovely irony! And when I finish there, I'll hide in the desert, reload, and go in search of Carmen and Tiffany, who started the rumors. And Derek, just because.

Loving someone isn't about what you can live with, accept or tolerate. For me, it's about the one person you can't live without. Too know that part of your life will never be the same without that one person being apart of it.

Oh. Momma told me not to tell you that your bed squeaks. But I think you know, 'cause I could hear it this morning. Jake dropped his fork. Tor, for the first time Jake had ever seen, turned scarlet. Maureen looked at them both and sighed. Christmas is always so interesting with you, Mark.

Inhaling deeply, Evan pressed his face to the soft tangle of Jamie's hair. "You had me at that first 'fuck you'.

You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

(Seth) “So,” he said, looking me up and down, “you’re what the fuss was all about. I can’t say I’m impressed.” He sneered at me. “Still riding bulls, cowboy?” (Weber) “Nope.” I smirked at him. “I only ride his cock now.

You can come round to my flat." Toreth's voice changed, sliding subtly into something hard-edged but seductive. "I don't need chains to make you do what I want. I don't need anything. I can take whatever I want from you, however I want it, and you can't stop me.

You're cute in the morning," he told me. "I am?" I asked. "Cute and sweet." "Mm," I mumbled, glad he thought that but I'd always been a morning person. I was a night person too. I was an anytime person when I wasn't stressy and in a bad mood. One of his hands left my back and I watched his eyes get heated and intense as they studied my face. Then he did something beautiful, something amazing, something that, if I'd had any doubts as to my certainty, they would have disintegrated. He tenderly slid the backs of his knuckles against the skin of my cheek while he muttered, "A year and a half. Totally fuckin' missed out.

Very sorry. I’m wet. I mean, you made me wet.” Nope, not any better. Now, he sounded like a pervert. “You didn’t make me wet.

Letting me know your email address. Big step. Sure you're ready for that kind of commitment?" "I'm pretty sure I want you to shut up and open your ass for me.

Twenty-three,” he said. “Mm?” She opened her dazed eyes. Thorne pulled back, looking guilty and worried, which made some of her euphoria fade away. “You once asked me how many times I’d told a girl I loved her. I’ve been trying to remember them all, and I’m pretty sure the answer is twenty-three.” She blinked, a slow, fluttering stare. Her lips pursed in a question that took a while to form. “Including the Lunar girl who kissed you?” His brow furrowed. “Are we counting her?” “You said it, didn’t you?” His gaze darted to the side. “Twenty-four.” Cress gaped. Twenty-four girls. She didn’t even know twenty-four people.

And now he smiled at me. All teeth. The way only people who hadn’t learned self-consciousness knew how to smile.

The events of my birth...and finally of my death are not accomplished in me or for me. The affective weight of my life as a whole does not exist for me. Only the Other is in possession of the values of the being of a given person.

You're doing it wrong." "Son, I've got a gun to your chest and you're telling me that I'm doing it wrong?" "Yes" "How?" "Closer isn't better." He disarmed her with a swift motion, then offered the weapon back to her. "Further away you are, the less unpredictable I can be." Della's eyes had opened wide with surprise, but she recovered fast. Took the shotgun back and said, "Okay. Knock again so we can start over.

I think I’m falling in love with you.” The words leave my lips in the faintest whisper. He keeps quiet for a solid minute. I second-guess myself, but he squeezes me tighter into him. “Elena?” “Mm.” I copy him. “I already know I am.

I thought that the world did not want me, but the truth was that I did not want myself.

But is it an honest living?" Alec persisted, clinging to his last shred of resolve. "Most of those who employ me are great lords or nobles." "It sounds like a pretty dangerous line of work," Alec remarked, aware that once again Seregil had side-stepped the question. "That's the spice of it, though," cried Seregil. "And you can end up rich!" "Or on the end of a rope?" Seregil chuckled. "Have it your way.

He tightened his arms, not wanting Ty to move away. “It’s more than just fucking around now,” he said. “Isn’t it?” He made sure the tone of his voice emphasized that it wasn’t really a question. Ty was motionless in response. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. The silence stretched on, edging toward tension. Finally, he let out his breath quietly and lowered his head. “No,” he lied blithely, just as he’d done in a hotel in New York City over a year ago. Zane chuckled. A classic Grady response, and definitely the one he preferred to hear. A “yes” just might have given him a heart attack. He held Ty close. “You owe me.” “Owe you?” Ty repeated in a rough, questioning voice as Zane felt his heartbeat begin to speed up. “Mm hmm. How I’ve wanted you,” Zane breathed. “It scares the hell out of me.” “I know,” Ty murmured as he turned in place and nuzzled against Zane’s neck.

It wasn’t me,” Ant said. “I didn’t break into that safe and I didn’t destroy that will.” “Mm-hmm,” Cara added. “Sounds exactly like what a murderer would say.

I looked up at Lee when we stopped in front of Hector and informed him helpfully, “You might want to take your arm away. Blanca tells me Hector doesn’t like men touching me.” “Blanca told you that?” Lee asked, his smile (and arm) still firmly in place. “Yes. She’s known Hector, like, his whole life so I think she’s in the position to know.” Lee nodded, his smile somehow bigger like he was trying not to laugh then his eyes moved to Hector and he said, “I tried to stop it.” Hector looked at Lee then looked at me then he muttered, “Oh fuck.” “It was Ally’s idea,” Lee told Hector. “What was Ally’s idea?” Hector asked Lee. “It was not Ally’s idea!” I cried. “It wasn’t!” super-power-eared Ally yelled from the open back window of Lee’s Explorer. “It was Sadie’s idea. I just was offering moral support.” “Shut up, Ally!” Indy shouted out the open passenger side window. “I will not shut up! I’m not taking the fall for this one!” Ally shouted back. I turned to the car, dislodging Lee’s arm and lifted both my hands and pressed down. “No one’s going to take a fall. Everyone calm down. It’s all okay. It’s rock ‘n’ roll!” I screamed. “Righteous!” Ally screamed back. “Rock on, sister!” Indy screamed too. “It’s rock ‘n’ roll?” Lee asked, sounding as amused as he looked. “You all wanna quit screamin’ at three o’clock in the mornin’ in my fuckin’ neighborhood?” Hector suggested. Mm, well maybe we were being an eensy bit loud. “Time for beddie by,” I announced (sounding like Ralphie), got up on tiptoe, kissed Lee’s cheek (like Ralphie and Buddy would do to me), turned and gave Indy and Ally a double devil’s horns (like Ava taught me) and shouted, “Rock on!” They shouted back in unison, “Rock on!” “Christ,” Hector muttered.

It was real sweet, except that he'd drugged me and ridden me to within an inch of my life, and I was still so high I was paralyzed and mute. But other than that, I guess it was pretty romantic.

There, there, sweetin’,” he murmured into her hair. “He loved me, he truly did,” she gasped. “I know he did,” Michael said. “And I loved him.” “Mm-hmm.” She raised her head, glaring angrily. “You don’t even believe in love. Why are you agreeing with me?” He laughed. “Because”—he leaned down and licked at the tears on her cheeks, his lips brushing softly against her sensitive skin as he spoke, “ye’ve bewitched and bespelled me, my sweet Silence, didn’t ye know? I’ll agree that the sky is pink, that the moon is made o’ marzipan and sugared raisins, and that mermaids swim the muddy waters o’ the Thames, if ye’ll only stop weepin’. Me chest breaks apart and gapes wide open when I see tears in yer pretty eyes. Me lungs, me liver, and me heart cannot stand to be thus exposed.” She stopped breathing. She simply inhaled and stopped, looking at him in wonder. His lips were quirked in a mocking smile, but his eyes—his fathomless black eyes—seemed to hold a great pain as if his strong chest really had been split open.

Wake up and fuck me," demanded Tarin. "I thought your bum hurt?" Tarin squirmed. "Want cock, too. Fall out a tree, climb it again.

Orphan boys didn’t get happy endings. Not in this court. Jesters did not marry princes, and fools could never be heroes.

Every inch of you belongs to me,” Afron whispered. “From your ears” -- he nibbled delicately at one -- “to your lips” -- another nibble -- “to your chest” -- a swipe of his tongue met Makara’s flesh -- “to your belly” -- a lingering tickle of the tip of Afron’s tongue in Makara’s belly button -- “to your marvelous, thick cock.

His expression softened, which made Sterling's throat tighten just a little. “You've cannonballed into the deep end when you don't know how to swim, haven't you?” Sterling looked at him solemnly and smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Don't let me drown.

I’ve never gotten over you. Ever. Not one day passed that I didn’t think about you. For me,you’re the love of my life. Wherever you are is exactly where I want to be.I’ve wasted too much time already. I don’t want to waste another single day without you. I want a future with you." - Colton Michaels

The kid's driving me bat-shit," Cam complained as he stalked into the kitchen. "You can't say boo to him without him squaring up for a fight." "Mm-hmm." "Argumentative, smart-mouthed, troublemaker." "Must be like looking in a mirror." "Like hell." "Don't know what I was thinking of. You're such a peaceable soul.

Colton, I’ve lived this life with you before. Loving you from afar, never letting anyone know how I feel. I can’t do it again, I won’t do it again. Five minutes is too long to hide what we share. I certainly can’t do five years. Take your time here. Stay as long as you need. I’m flying home today. Please don’t contact me again. It will just make it all harder. Jace

I reached for his other hand, which he quickly accepted and I pulled him up into a hug. I didn't know what the other kids in the room were thinking or saying or doing. And I didn't care. I had Jamie in my arms, and that was all the mattered.

Justin wandered over to the big fir between the coach house and his studio, and began freeing the new growth from their rust colored casings. “Why do you do that?” I walked around kitten’s nose, and came up behind him. “So they have a few more days in the sun.” “Is that why you keep trying to save me? So I have a few more days in the sun?” He shook his head and glanced back at me. “No. You still don’t understand do you? You are my sun.

Ty grabbed my phone and threatened to tell Otter that I liked being spanked during sex. This proceeded to lead up on a long tangent where I had to have him explain to me how he knows about stuff like people getting spanked during sex. He said he might have heard it mentioned while watching MSNBC. I told him he was grounded from watching the news channels for a week. That's where this whole sidebar should have ended, but then I was forced to explain S & M and bondage to my little brother, who was persistent on the topic, and who kept staring at me with mounting horror when I finally /did/ explain, and I realized I had maybe gone too far, and we had to spend the next five minutes swearing to God that I had never nor would I ever attempt to do anything like that. He might now be the only nine-year-old who has heard the terms "cock ring" and "fisting". My parenting skills are unparalleled.

I love you, Jace. I always have, and through all my mistakes, I wanted you to know I’ve never said that to anyone else. Only you.Am I too late? Have you moved on? If you give me another chance, I promise to do everything in my power to never hurt you again.

What is wrong with you?” He glared at me. “I’m somewhat sure I’m suddenly gay,” I shrugged, “My father and mother are hypocritical abandoning homophobic assholes. The former defending my chief suspect in the biggest case of my life—something I’m sure you had a hand in. I’m obsessed with your freckles, your bunny slippers and your lips—which I should be getting points for not kissing while you’re incapacitated, by the way. I’m dating a whore while working on the vice squad—points to me again for not arresting your ass for that—and I’m ridiculously horny. Oh, and my fiancée won’t talk to me.

I know I'm just a human woman, but so help me, if anything happens to her while she's with you-” “I assure you she'll be in good hands.” “Mm-hm, that's part of what I'm worried about.” She pointed at his hands. “Hands off, mister." His eyes widened, and so did mine. “Patti!” I said. She crossed her arms, fierce and serious. We both shrank back a fraction. “Bring her back to me safely, with her virtue intact.” I closed my eyes. Someone kill me now. “Yes, ma'am,” Kaidan responded. I couldn't speak or move because of my hot-faced embarrassment. “And thank you for doing this,” Patti added. She came forward, sat down next to Kaidan, and hugged him. She liked him! He hesitated for a second before wrapping his own arms around her in return. It was one of the strangest sights I'd ever witnessed-an embrace between two people who didn't seem to belong in the same universe, as far as I was concerned. When Patti pulled away, her face was calm. “So we'll leave in the morning then, yes?” Kaidan raised a last eyebrow at me and I shivered, breaking into a cold sweat as I nodded my agreement. What had I done?

I'll be fast. I can make you come in two minutes." "I can do that myself. I never get to see you anymore- I'd rather talk to you" That had to be the most romantic things anyone had ever said to me, and I went all gooshy inside.

Alice?” She spun toward the door, her skirts whirling softly. “Yes?” she forced out. “Do you know what I am holding in my hand?” “No.” “Care to guess?” “A pitchfork?” she asked in a stilted attempt at levity, hoping to invoke his earlier, playful mood. “No, my dear,” he answered drily. “A key to your room.” “What?”she breathed, aghast. “I should hate to have to use it.” “You have a key to this room?” “Mm-hmm.” She took a step toward the door, panic rising up in her throat. “You’re bluffing!” “Do you wish me to prove it?

Leaning back, I eye him. “Did you just give me a forehead kiss while I’m wearing my chef’s coat?”  “Mm-hmm.” “I’ve made grown men cry while wearing this coat.” “Oh, I have no doubt about that, but girl bosses need forehead kisses too.

Love me,” he said against my lips, as I slowly lowered onto him. “Because somewhere around forever ago, I fell in love with you.

My last thought before falling asleep last night was a realisation that I was falling in love with Andrew. Well, not me exactly. My stupid, traitorous heart.

You’re scared of sharing me in case you lose me?” - Adan

You’re my person and I think that I was just waiting for you. Man or woman, it doesn’t matter to me. The only thing that matters is that you are mine and I am yours.

Whatever magnet drew us once was broken now. It had left me simply spinning, a compass without a lodestone.

I couldn’t believe that lack of fear. It gave me vertigo, as though he was the edge of a cliff and I couldn’t bear the view.

Hey,” I said. “Do you want to grab a coffee?” His chiseled face softened, and he looked at me as if he were about to say yes. As if he wanted nothing more in the world but to say yes to sitting at a crappy diner over a cup of coffee while the rain came down.

But surely, Philip Philipovich, everybody says that 30-degree vodka is quite good enough.’ ‘Vodka should be at least 40 degrees, not 30 – that’s firstly,’ Philip Philipovich interrupted him didactically, ‘and secondly – God knows what muck they make into vodka nowadays. What do you think they use?’ ‘Anything they like,’ said the other doctor firmly. ‘I quite agree,’ said Philip Philipovich and hurled the contents of his glass down his throat in one gulp. ‘Ah . . . m’m . . . Doctor Bormenthal – please drink that at once and if you ask me what it is, I’m your enemy for life. “From Granada to Seville . . .” Chapter 3

I didn't join films to become a great star. I wanted a change from my mother's memory. I started believing in God after my mother's death because then there is heaven and hell and I might meet her there. I think of her as a star.She is a solid point of reference in my life. And I figure if I'm in films, if I'm 70mm, it is easier for her to see me.

I couldn’t keep living this lie for a minute more. I’ve been sober for two hundred and eighty-three days. My sobriety requires me to apologize to you, but my heart can’t take another day without you knowing how much I still love you, and how deeply sorry I am for the pain I’ve caused you.

The way Nate seemed to pull at me without meaning to, like a dog bolting after an elusive prize, dragging its hapless owner behind it. Nate was a force, momentarily stilled. The tide that threatened my sandcastle life.

I'm sorry!" I blurted out. "I told you, I suck at this. It's like any time I try to do a spell, it goes all big and scary and explodey,and-" Dad rubbed his forehead. "No,Sophie, it's all right. That's what I'd hoped you would do." "You hoped I'd commit mirrorcide?" He laughed, but it sounded a little breathless. "No,I'd hoped to see just how powerful you really are." His eyes were bright, and there was something that might have been pride in them. "You exceeded my expectations." "Well,yay," I said. "So glad my skill at blowing crap up impresses you, Dad." "Your sarcasm is-" "I know,I know, 'an unattractive quality in a young lady.'" But Dad grinned and suddenly looked much younger and less like a guy who ironed his ties. "Actually, I was going to say it's something you must've gotten from me. Grace always hated sarcastic comments." "Oh,I know," I replied without thinking. "I spent most of the seventh grade grounded because of it." He snorted. "She once put me out by the side of the road in Scotland because I made a completely harmless joke about her map-reaking skills." "Really?" "Mm-hmm.Had to walk nearly five bloody kilometers before she stopped to let me back in." "Dude.Mom is hard-core." For a moment we smiled at each other. Then Dad cleared his throat and looked away. "Anyway,your powers are definitely impressive, but what you lack is control." "Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.

Be careful of him Dai, whether you agree with me or not that boy is a time bomb just waiting to explode, and when he does he’s going hit everyone in his way including you . . . or especially you.-- Benjirou Uie warning Dai about Kane from "Game Boys

These walls and the two men inside had swallowed me whole once before, so when I emerged from the belly of the beast, I staggered into the world blinking and raw. This time, though, I have come armed. This time, I’ve come with sharp edges, blades, and a warrior’s hardened heart, and I’ll cut myself free without a moment’s hesitation

He made me love him. He turned himself into my home. Now he’s gone. And I’m homeless.

Trust me,” I whispered. “Let me be the one to show you exactly what you’re worth.

Gray,” he whispered in his ear. Grayson moaned softly in return. “I'm here for you. I exist only for you. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it.

I thought we used to kill rats?" he said, as if he wasn't quite certain anymore. "Yes, but you see, sir, this is the future," said Maurice. "Is it?" said Mr. Schlummer. "Really? I always wondered when the future was going to happen. Oh, well. Cats talk now, too? Well done! Got to move with the, mm, the...things that move, obviously. Wake me up when they bring the tea in.

What the Lady was happening? The man had his mouth smashing on Tarin's, and his tongue was shoving at Tarin's tongue. Tarin tried to scream. The men did eat boys. It wasn't just a scary fire-rumor. He bucked his body and writhed. He was going to be consumed alive! "Lady!" he bawled like a little kid. It sort of worked. The man moved his mouth and laughed. "Now, no fussing. I won't hurt you if you're a good boy." "Don't eat me," moaned Tarin. He was too scared to be brave. This was why no boys ever escaped from the Before Times buildings. The men ate them! No wonder men were so sleek and strong. They had boy meat to get them through the winter

Luisa was on her knees on the bed, naked, my 9mm in her hands and aimed right at me. I automatically had my gun pointed back at her. The sexiest Mexican standoff I’d ever been involved in. “What are you doing?” I asked, taking a cautious step toward her, not lowering my gun for a second. “Leaving,” she answered, her eyes hard. She was distracting as all hell, her tits and pussy and that gun. I don’t think I’d ever been so turned on so quick and in such an untimely situation. “It doesn’t look like it.” “I’m going to ask you nicely to let me leave, and if you don’t, I’ll shoot you.” A grin broke out across my face. My god, she couldn’t be more perfect. “If you shot me, you’d kill me,” I said, taking another step. “Then who would make you come all the time?

So stop being a fuckin' coward, Wyn the Soul Eater." I knocked my fist against his chest. "If you really don't want me- no other excuses, just me- just tell me right now, and I'll leave and we'll be done. Otherwise, start getting used to the fucking fact that you can't protect me from everything. And I'm not made of glass. I can handle myself. I can look after myself." I drew myself up, squaring my shoulders. "And if we both want to be together, we're going to fuckin' be together.

Have you ever been so blindsided by a kiss you had to hold on for dear life to avoid toppling over like a sapling in a fierce storm? Yeah, me either. This was a first. It was no ordinary kiss. This felt like a revelation. Like a thunderclap accompanied by the soulful voices of a Greek chorus.

My latest battle had nothing to do with The Company, the rebels, or any other faction. It was out-and-out warfare between my head and my heart. Keeping it cool during daylight, versus nighttime, when I unleashed my passion for him. ... Turned out the Wilderness was a lot more hostile than me.

I thought you wanted to leave me." Jurgen sounded dazed. Nik patted his chest. "My poor, big, dumb asshole." He sighed, kissing Jurgen's neck. "Why didn't you just ask me?" Nik could feel the dumbfounded rising up from Jurgen's skin. "I don't know," he said slowly. "I didn't need to ask you if I knew how to fix it." "Oh, Jurgen." Nik patted him some more, petting his sternum. "We could probably spend a few years and thousands of dollars in psychologist's fees figuring you out, couldn't we?

Jules rested the violin and bow on the case and sat down next to Jason. He hesitated for a moment, watching the older man with uncomfortable intensity, then reached for Jason and brushed a single tear from his cheek. For Jason, the touch was electric, and his physical response unexpected. “Bach always touches my soul,” Jules half whispered. His fingers still rested against Jason’s cheek. “He must have known great love, and great pain, to write something so powerful.” Jason realized that his own pain must be showing on his face, because Jules, too, looked sad. "I’ve never been religious,” Jules said, his eyes never leaving Jason’s, “but I played this piece in a tiny church once. It was like God was there with me, speaking through me.” When Jason remained silent, Jules leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. At a loss to explain the intense emotional and sexual response of his own body and equally unable to stop himself, Jason reached for Jules and returned the kiss. The younger man’s lips tasted of wine and musk, and Jason realized that he was hungry for more.

Baby, it’s not spur of the moment, and I’m thinking just fine. I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. We’ve already wasted too much time. Jace Montgomery, be mine forever. Marry me on our terms before we leave this island.Just say yes. If I could move, I’d hold you, kiss you, beg you to say yes. Please, go find the chaplain and let’s do this thing, right now. I don’t want to destroy that marriage certificate. I want it to be real. I want to marry you. I want to say the words ‘I do’ in front of witnesses.

Joker: Question. Would you die for me? Harley Quinn: Yes. Joker: That's too easy. Will you... Would you live for me? ... Hmm? Harley Quinn: Yes. Joker: Careful! Do not say this oath thoughtlessly! ... Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power. You want this? Harley Quinn: I do. Joker: Say it. Say it. Say it! Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty... Harley Quinn: Please?! Joker: Mm, God, you're so... good!

Mm…hmm. I bet he’s helping you. Right into his bed and you’d be a fool not to test him out. Shit. From what you’ve told me, any woman would love to be in that man’s bed. I bet he’s got a nice cock and is a sweet lover too

We’re loyal servants of the U.S. government. But Afghanistan involves fighting behind enemy lines. Never mind we were invited into a democratic country by its own government. Never mind there’s no shooting across the border in Pakistan, the illegality of the Taliban army, the Geneva Convention, yada, yada, yada. When we’re patrolling those mountains, trying everything we know to stop the Taliban regrouping, striving to find and arrest the top commanders and explosive experts, we are always surrounded by a well-armed, hostile enemy whose avowed intention is to kill us all. That’s behind enemy lines. Trust me. And we’ll go there. All day. Every day. We’ll do what we’re supposed to do, to the letter, or die in the attempt. On behalf of the U.S.A. But don’t tell us who we can attack. That ought to be up to us, the military. And if the liberal media and political community cannot accept that sometimes the wrong people get killed in war, then I can only suggest they first grow up and then serve a short stint up in the Hindu Kush. They probably would not survive. The truth is, any government that thinks war is somehow fair and subject to rules like a baseball game probably should not get into one. Because nothing’s fair in war, and occasionally the wrong people do get killed. It’s been happening for about a million years. Faced with the murderous cutthroats of the Taliban, we are not fighting under the rules of Geneva IV Article 4. We are fighting under the rules of Article 223.556mm — that’s the caliber and bullet gauge of our M4 rifle. And if those numbers don’t look good, try Article .762mm, that’s what the stolen Russian Kalashnikovs fire at us, usually in deadly, heavy volleys. In the global war on terror, we have rules, and our opponents use them against us. We try to be reasonable; they will stop at nothing. They will stoop to any form of base warfare: torture, beheading, mutilation. Attacks on innocent civilians, women and children, car bombs, suicide bombers, anything the hell they can think of. They’re right up there with the monsters of history.

What are you going to do about him?”. Gin didn’t have to specify for me to know he was talking about Tex. My heart fluttered, and I absentmindedly rubbed at my chest. “I’m going to drag him home.” Giancarlo’s mouth tilted down in a frown. “He’s a cop.” “He’s the man I love.

I love you," Colt declared against Jace’s lips. "I love you, too." Jace made Colt smile. "Thank you for taking me back." Colt kissed the tip of Jace’s nose. "Thank you for finding me," Jace mumbled into the pillow on a deep yawn. "I need to sleep.Be here when I wake up." "I’m here for as long as you want me. I promise I’ll be here when you wake, Jace," he whispered and pressed a kiss to Jace’s furrowed brow."Every day… for the rest of our lives.

Well that ain’t so. You get babies from each other. But there’s this man, too—he has all these babies just waitin‘ to wake up, he breathes life into ’em…” Dill was off again. Beautiful things floated around in his dreamy head. He could read two books to my one, but he preferred the magic of his own inventions. He could add and subtract faster than lightning, but he preferred his own twilight world, a world where babies slept, waiting to be gathered like morning lilies. He was slowly talking himself to sleep and taking me with him, but in the quietness of his foggy island there rose the faded image of a gray house with sad brown doors. “Dill?” “Mm?” “Why do you reckon Boo Radley’s never run off?” Dill sighed a long sigh and turned away from me. “Maybe he doesn’t have anywhere to run off to…

And if I said "because I'm a witch," they'd think I was crazy.' 'That's exactly right,' she confirmed. 'Because everybody knows witches aren't real.' She nodded. 'Yes.' 'Except they really are real.' She continued nodding. 'Mm-hmm.' 'But you also told me Santa and the tooth fairy were real.' 'Those were lies,' she said. 'But they're lies every parent tells their children. So they're not really lies so much as a script.' 'I slept with teeth under my pillow, so it seems like a lie to me.

We ate in the dining room alcove looking over the hillside and the silent dark rooftops of my neighbors. The lights of the valley glittered below. We were both tired but we smiled at each other, and I felt a kind of happiness growing inside me. It was good to look across the table and see someone, and I thought maybe it was time to start thinking about that again—about finding someone. Sharing my life maybe. Or maybe just getting more friends around. Except when I pictured the friends I wanted around, they all looked like Dan, and when I thought about trying to find someone to share my life with, he too looked a little too much like Dan for comfort.

If only I had known those trusted moments would be so few, I would have given voice to my unspoken promises, and shouted my unintended secrets to the sky. That my love for you extended far beyond our bed, and our island. That from the first time you told me you loved me and I let myself believe it, I was no longer shipwrecked on an island. I was where I was meant to be. With you.

Do you ever wear leather?" the guy asks. "What?" "Leather. Do you like leather?" "It doesn't exactly wipe me out." "I like to see boys in leather." I look at him cool. "Okay," I say, "what is it you want and how much are you willing to pay for it?" "I've got a leather jacket upstairs...Would you put it on?" "Just put it on?" "I'll go and get it." He leaves the horror hole and returns a few minutes later holding a leather flying jacket with a lambswool collar. There are tears in the jacket's sleeves, and the lambswool is yellow with age. John Wayne could've worn it in one of those crappy war films he made. "Put it on," the guy says. I give him a spiky smile and put on the jacket. "Okay, where's the plane, and what time's take-off?" "Drop your jeans and turn around.

Crash took a long drag off his cigarette and gave me a smug little smile. He always looked smug. His hair was dyed Kool-Aid green. Maybe that's what he was looking smug about today, despite the fact that it clashed with his olive drab army duster. Or maybe he knew my ass stung with every step I took- either because he was an empath who hot "feelings" about what everyone was experiencing, or because he'd taken it up the ass from Jacob himself. Crash's smirk widened and I looked away. One day I'd probably slap him. And then I'd regret it, because he was probably into stuff like that.

Think of it this way." She crosses her ankles in my lap. "Imagine your soul is made up of a bundle of matches. They're just sitting there. Do you follow?" "So far." "Each one represents something in your life. A match for love, a match for family, a match for career, and all the other stuff that fulfills us. Still with me?" "Mm-hm." "You've been pouring water over your matches to keep them in perfect order because fire is scary and you can get burned, but matches don't want to be wet, they want to be on fire. All it takes is one thing to happen, one tiny match gets lit, and it's like a domino effect, lighting all the other matches. All you have to do is light that first match.

I hit Crash's button and we heard the phone inside start to ring. After four, he answered. "Hey, PsyPig." His voice was husky. "I'd normally tell you not to call me at this ungodly hour, but evidently someone's running a cockfghting ring in the hall, so I wasn't actually asleep...." "It's me. Open up." He was actually silent for a second. "Aren't /you/ butch?" "Don't fuck around. I need to see Miss Mattie." "Okay, okay, don't get your handcuffs in a twist. I can't find my pants." I wondered if he could say the word "pants" without making something dirty out of it. "Unless, of course, this visit is clothing-optional." And there it was. I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me since the door was still shut.

YEN What happens if you take a cup? Put it to your lips. A cup of desire. Of dazzling colour. Of intoxicating aroma. You can't resist. Drink. And in the bottom of the cup. There is a fish. And the fish says "You have uncovered me! Now I am condemned. To die." What happens if you find a box? 35mm by 35mm exactly. And are curious. You open it quickly. Of course. And inside there is an eye. And the eye seems to think that the box is its exclusive property. And fixes you with a terrifying glare. What happens if you catch a soft sound? A voice whispering in the air. Above the tree tops. And you can't quite hear what it is saying. But you have to listen. So you float up. Then you find you can't come down again. When the conversation is finished.

In the living room Derek sprawled on the floor on a blanket, his eyes closed, his body human, corded with hard muscle, and covered only with a strategically placed towel. Julie knelt by him, long tweezers in her hand. “What’s going on?” “Quills,” she said. “Very thin quills. There was a magic plant and he decided it would be a good idea to give it a hug. Because he is smart that way.” So they had taken Julie with them. Considering where I’d gone and what I did while there, I didn’t have room to talk. Derek didn’t bother opening his eyes. “I wasn’t giving it a hug. I was shielding Ella.” “Mm-hm.” Julie plucked a thin needle from his stomach. “You shielded her really well. Because it’s not like we didn’t have Carlos with us.” Carlos was a firebug. The plant must’ve gotten torched. “We’ll need to work on mixed-unit tactics,” Curran said. He looked tired. It must’ve been hell. “So what did you do in Mishmar?” Umm. Ehh. In my head I had somehow expected Erra to stay in Mishmar. “I saw my father,” I said. Start small. “How was that?” Curran asked. “He’s a little upset with me.” “Aha.” “I broke Mishmar a little bit.” The three of them looked at me. “But it was mostly my grandmother who did it.” “How much is a little bit?” Derek asked. “There might be a crack. About maybe seven feet at the widest point.” Derek laughed. “And what else?” Curran asked. Perceptive bastard. “And this.” I pulled out the dagger and showed it to him. “You made a magic knife?” he asked. “Yes. In a manner of speaking.” “But you still have to get close enough to stab Roland with it,” Derek said. “That’s not how it works.” Help me, somebody. Curran was looking right at me. “Kate?” “It’s more of an advising kind of knife.” “You should come clean,” he said. “Whatever it is, it’s done and we can handle it.” My aunt tore into existence in the center of the room. “Hello, half-breed.” Curran exploded into a leap. Unfortunately, Derek also exploded at exactly the same time but from the opposite direction. They collided in Erra’s translucent body with a loud thud. Derek fell back and Curran stumbled a few steps. Erra pointed at Curran with her thumb. “You want to marry this? Is there a shortage of men?” Curran leapt forward and swiped at her head. His hand passed through my aunt’s face. Derek jumped to his feet and circled Erra, his eyes glowing. “I fear for my grandnephew,” Erra said. “He will be an idiot.

On the morning of November 22nd, a Friday, it became clear the gap between living and dying was closing. Realizing that Aldous [Huxley] might not survive the day, Laura [Huxley's wife] sent a telegram to his son, Matthew, urging him to come at once. At ten in the morning, an almost inaudible Aldous asked for paper and scribbled "If I go" and then some directions about his will. It was his first admission that he might die ... Around noon he asked for a pad of paper and scribbled LSD-try it intermuscular 100mm In a letter circulated to Aldous's friends, Laura Huxley described what followed: 'You know very well the uneasiness in the medical mind about this drug. But no 'authority', not even an army of authorities, could have stopped me then. I went into Aldous's room with the vial of LSD and prepared a syringe. The doctor asked me if I wanted him to give the shot- maybe because he saw that my hands were trembling. His asking me that made me conscious of my hands, and I said, 'No, I must do this.' An hour later she gave Huxley a second 100mm. Then she began to talk, bending close to his ear, whispering, 'light and free you let go, darling; forward and up. You are going forward and up; you are going toward the light. Willingly and consciously you are going, willingly and consciously, and you are doing this beautifully — you are going toward the light — you are going toward a greater love … You are going toward Maria's [Huxley's first wife, who had died many years earlier] love with my love. You are going toward a greater love than you have ever known. You are going toward the best, the greatest love, and it is easy, it is so easy, and you are doing it so beautifully.' All struggle ceased. The breathing became slower and slower and slower until, 'like a piece of music just finishing so gently in sempre piu piano, dolcamente,' at twenty past five in the afternoon, Aldous Huxley died.

«Ti faccio passare io la voglia di guardarmi così», Charles gli ringhiò tra i capelli prima di scostarglieli dal volto. «Me ne sono accorto, sai? Di come mi guardi quando credi di non essere visto.» Oh, Dio! Doveva andarsene da lì. Sottrarsi a quelle braccia al più presto, prima di perdere il controllo del proprio corpo. Perché lo sentiva nei lombi, Dorian: il fuoco che Rochester accendeva in lui aveva già iniziato a gonfiargli le palle. La risposta gli uscì in un soffio, disperata. Una piccola, audace bugia. «Vi sbagliate.» «Ah, è così dunque? Hai il coraggio di dirmi che non è vero?» L'istante successivo avvertì qualcosa di duro premergli contro i glutei. Qualcosa di caldo e sfacciato, granitico. La sua erezione. Le labbra di Dorian si schiusero in un gemito sorpreso. L'aria uscì dai polmoni e l'eccitazione salì fino in gola, traditrice, spezzando voce e volontà. «Non…» “Non lo so.” «Non volevo. Non intendevo spiarvi.» «Ma l'hai fatto. Lo fai sempre.»

My existence threatens you." He shoved me back. hard. I crashed into the hall table, knocking it over, smashing the jar of old marbles I had collected. Glass balls skipped and bounced along the corridor. I landed on my back, my head banging down on the hardwood floor. I lay there for a second, blinking up at the lighting fixture, taking in the years of dust and dead moths gathered in the etched-glass globe. The silence that followed was more startling than the collision of me and the table and the floor. I heard Jake's harsh breathing and a marble rolling away down the hall — which seemed pretty damned appropriate, since I'd apparently lost all of mine.

Tony Williams: You’ve often mentioned that Tales of Hoffmann (1951) has been a major influence on you. George Romero: It was the first film I got completely involved with. An aunt and uncle took me to see it in downtown Manhattan when it first played. And that was an event for me since I was about eleven at the time. The imagery just blew me away completely. I wanted to go and see a Tarzan movie but my aunt and uncle said, “No! Come and see a bit of culture here.” So I thought I was missing out. But I really fell in love with the film. There used to be a television show in New York called Million Dollar Movie. They would show the same film twice a day on weekdays, three times on Saturday, and three-to-four times on Sunday. Tales of Hoffmann appeared on it one week. I missed the first couple of days because I wasn’t aware that it was on. But the moment I found it was on, I watched virtually every telecast. This was before the days of video so, naturally, I couldn’t tape it. Those were the days you had to rent 16mm prints of any film. Most cities of any size had rental services and you could rent a surprising number of films. So once I started to look at Tales of Hoffmann I realized how much stuff Michael Powell did in the camera. Powell was so innovative in his technique. But it was also transparent so I could see how he achieved certain effects such as his use of an overprint in the scene of the ballet dancer on the lily ponds. I was beginning to understand how adept a director can be. But, aside from that, the imagery was superb. Robert Helpmann is the greatest Dracula that ever was. Those eyes were compelling. I was impressed by the way Powell shot Helpmann sweeping around in his cape and craning down over the balcony in the tavern. I felt the film was so unique compared to most of the things we were seeing in American cinema such as the westerns and other dreadful stuff I used to watch. Tales of Hoffmann just took me into another world in terms of its innovative cinematic technique. So it really got me going. Tony Williams: A really beautiful print exists on laserdisc with commentary by Martin Scorsese and others. George Romero: I was invited to collaborate on the commentary by Marty. Pat Buba (Tony’s brother) knew Thelma Schoonmaker and I got to meet Powell in later years. We had a wonderful dinner with him one evening. What an amazing guy! Eventually I got to see more of his movies that I’d never seen before such as I Know Where I’m Going and A Canterbury Tale. Anyway, I couldn’t do the commentary on Tales of Hoffmann with Marty. But, back in the old days in New York, Marty and I were the only two people who would rent a 16mm copy of the film. Every time I found it was out I knew that he had it and each time he wanted it he knew who had it! So that made us buddies.

I feel something on my chest. Ivy's resting her head on me. In fact, she's pulled herself so close that we're touching everywhere. My heart picks up speed again, but I'm surprisingly calm, seeing her beautiful face close to mine, her eyes closed in an expression of content bliss, and—the best part—feeling her own heart pound in time with mine. She's feeling what I'm feeling. That is when I know for sure. "Ivy?" I know what I have to do. "Mm?" Her songbird voice is a calm purr. "I think...no. I really, really like you." Like moving through molasses, Ivy raises her head. Her eyes are enormous with bewilderment. But there's no fright, no dislike, no anything that discourages me, With that in mind, I don't hesitate as I move my face and my lips to her lips. Ivy's lips are cool like water but delicate and velvety and smooth like round pebbles. She smells like wildflowers, wet earth, and freshly cut grass, which only makes me want her more. I press my lips harder against hers, and a shiver of delight snakes through me when I feel her press back. Daring myself, I open my mouth. So does she, and the kiss deepens. My hand slides upward to caress her satin cheek, and the back of my neck tingles as her fingers play with my hair. This is it. Ivy's and my first kiss. I wouldn't have it any other way. Unhurriedly we pull our faces away, though we leave our foreheads touching. "Ivy?" I peer into her eyes. She doesn't look upset, but more calm and curious. She meets my eyes and asks, "What was that?" "A kiss. You do it with people you like." To my amazement Ivy leans forward and kisses me again. It's incredible as the first time. "That is my feeling towards you," she tells me as she leans back. She meets my eyes, her face flushed but determined. "I...am...really liking you, too." I smile and pull her to me, and we grasp each other like we never want to let go. She likes me. I like her. This can't get any better.

Hey, Large,” Gabe says, flicking me with his towel. “Where you been all day?” “I’ve been around.” I look over at Peter, but he won’t meet my eyes. “I saw you guys on the slopes.” Darrell says, “Then why didn’t you holler at us? I wanted to show off my ollies for you.” Teasingly I say, “Well, I called Peter’s name, but I guess he didn’t hear me.” Peter finally looks me in the eyes. “Nope. I didn’t hear you.” His voice is cold and indifferent and so un-Peterlike, the smile fades from my face. Gabe and Darrell exchange looks like oooh and Gabe says to Peter, “We’re gonna head out to the hot tub,” and they trot off. Peter and I are left standing in the lobby, neither of us saying anything. I finally ask, “Are you mad at me or something?” “Why would I be mad?” And then it’s back to quiet again. I say, “You know, you’re the one who talked me into coming on this trip. The least you could do is talk to me.” “The least you could do was sit next to me on the bus!” he bursts out. My mouth hangs open. “Are you really that mad that I didn’t sit next to you on the bus?” Peter lets out an impatient breath of air. “Lara Jean, when you’re dating someone, there are just…certain things you do, okay? Like sit next to each other on a school trip. That’s pretty much expected.” “I just don’t see what the big deal is,” I say. How can he be this mad over such a tiny thing? “Forget it.” He turns like he’s going to leave, and I grab his sweatshirt sleeve. I don’t want to be in a fight with him; I just want it to be fun and light the way it always is with us. I want him to at least still be my friend. Especially now that we’re at the end. I say, “Come on, don’t be mad. I didn’t realize it was that big of a deal. I swear I’ll sit next to you on the way home, okay?” He purses his lips. “But do you get why I was pissed?” I nod back. “Mm-hmm.” “All right then, you should know that you missed out on mocha sugar donuts.” My mouth falls open. “How’d you get those? I thought the shop didn’t open that early!” “I went out and got them last night specifically for the bus ride,” Peter says. “For you and me.

At any rate,’ he continued, ‘we hoped that once the war was over the Oracle might start working again. When it did not … Rachel became concerned.’ ‘Who’s Rachel?’ Meg asked. ‘Rachel Dare,’ I said. ‘The Oracle.’ ‘Thought the Oracle was a place.’ ‘It is.’ ‘Then Rachel is a place, and she stopped working?’ Had I still been a god, I would have turned her into a blue-belly lizard and released her into the wilderness never to be seen again. The thought soothed me. ‘The original Delphi was a place in Greece,’ I told her. ‘A cavern filled with volcanic fumes, where people would come to receive guidance from my priestess, the Pythia.’ ‘Pythia.’ Meg giggled. ‘That’s a funny word.’ ‘Yes. Ha-ha. So the Oracle is both a place and a person. When the Greek gods relocated to America back in … what was it, Chiron, 1860?’ Chiron see-sawed his hand. ‘More or less.’ ‘I brought the Oracle here to continue speaking prophecies on my behalf. The power has passed down from priestess to priestess over the years. Rachel Dare is the present Oracle.’ From the cookie platter, Meg plucked the only Oreo, which I had been hoping to have myself. ‘Mm-kay. Is it too late to watch that movie?’ ‘Yes,’ I snapped. ‘Now, the way I gained possession of the Oracle of Delphi in the first place was by killing this monster called Python who lived in the depths of the cavern.’ ‘A python like the snake,’ Meg said. ‘Yes and no. The snake species is named after Python the monster, who is also rather snaky, but who is much bigger and scarier and devours small girls who talk too much. At any rate, last August, while I was … indisposed, my ancient foe Python was released from Tartarus. He reclaimed the cave of Delphi. That’s why the Oracle stopped working.’ ‘But, if the Oracle is in America now, why does it matter if some snake monster takes over its old cave?’ That was about the longest sentence I had yet heard her speak. She’d probably done it just to spite me. ‘It’s too much to explain,’ I said. ‘You’ll just have to –’ ‘Meg.’ Chiron gave her one of his heroically tolerant smiles. ‘The original site of the Oracle is like the deepest taproot of a tree. The branches and leaves of prophecy may extend across the world, and Rachel Dare may be our loftiest branch, but if the taproot is strangled the whole tree is endangered. With Python back in residence at his old lair, the spirit of the Oracle has been completely blocked.

Outside," Regulus replies. "They're making mud-pies, so prepare for the mess." "Mm, nothing we can't handle," James assures him. "We've certainly had worse." "Yes, that's true, but if either of those brats track mud into the kitchen, I'm shipping them off to Sirius and Remus without looking back," Regulus warns, eyes narrowing playfully. James snorts. "You'd miss them and go get them back after three hours, don't even try it." "At least four," Regulus counters, sliding his arms around James' shoulders, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I can entertain myself for four hours, surely." "Oh?" James raises his eyebrows. "Don't you mean I could entertain you for four hours?" Regulus' lips twitch. "No, because I'm shipping you off with them. I've earned the break. I'm done with you Potters." "You're a Potter," James reminds him, amused. "Baby, I'll always be a Black," Regulus tells him, reaching up to card his fingers through James' hair. He leans in and starts mouthing along James' jaw, which James is very pleased about, actually. "No matter my name, that doesn't change." "Dad! Dad, look, we found a frog!" comes the abrupt shriek from outside, along with more delighted screams. "Oh, for fuck's sake," Regulus groans, letting his head thunk down on James' shoulder. "Really, can't we just send them back from whence they came?" "And where is that?" "Hell." James laughs, turning his head to smack a kiss to Regulus' cheek, then down the side of his face, then the scar on the side of his neck. "It's a bit pointless to do that. You'd go through hell just to get them back, and you know it." "Dad, it peed on me!" "Shit, shit, shit," Regulus chants, jolting away from James to rush towards the door. "Put it down, you little demons! Step away from the frog right now!" He's still grumbling as he slips out the door. "Just like your father. Literal spawns of Satan himself. What did I say about staying out of tr…" James sighs softly and leans back against the bar, grabbing his cane again, eyes drifting shut as he listens to the sounds of his family, lips curled up. Then, from his pocket, there's a sudden cry that makes his eyes snap open. Ah, yes, the joys of parenthood. Frogs and squalling infants. James wouldn't change a damn thing.

Honest to God, I hadn’t meant to start a bar fight. “So. You’re the famous Jordan Amador.” The demon sitting in front of me looked like someone filled a pig bladder with rotten cottage cheese. He overflowed the bar stool with his gelatinous stomach, just barely contained by a white dress shirt and an oversized leather jacket. Acid-washed jeans clung to his stumpy legs and his boots were at least twice the size of mine. His beady black eyes started at my ankles and dragged upward, past my dark jeans, across my black turtleneck sweater, and over the grey duster around me that was two sizes too big. He finally met my gaze and snorted before continuing. “I was expecting something different. Certainly not a black girl. What’s with the name, girlie?” I shrugged. “My mother was a religious woman.” “Clearly,” the demon said, tucking a fat cigar in one corner of his mouth. He stood up and walked over to the pool table beside him where he and five of his lackeys had gathered. Each of them was over six feet tall and were all muscle where he was all fat. “I could start to examine the literary significance of your name, or I could ask what the hell you’re doing in my bar,” he said after knocking one of the balls into the left corner pocket. “Just here to ask a question, that’s all. I don’t want trouble.” Again, he snorted, but this time smoke shot from his nostrils, which made him look like an albino dragon. “My ass you don’t. This place is for fallen angels only, sweetheart. And we know your reputation.” I held up my hands in supplication. “Honest Abe. Just one question and I’m out of your hair forever.” My gaze lifted to the bald spot at the top of his head surrounded by peroxide blonde locks. “What’s left of it, anyway.” He glared at me. I smiled, batting my eyelashes. He tapped his fingers against the pool cue and then shrugged one shoulder. “Fine. What’s your question?” “Know anybody by the name of Matthias Gruber?” He didn’t even blink. “No.” “Ah. I see. Sorry to have wasted your time.” I turned around, walking back through the bar. I kept a quick, confident stride as I went, ignoring the whispers of the fallen angels in my wake. A couple called out to me, asking if I’d let them have a taste, but I didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, I headed to the ladies’ room. Thankfully, it was empty, so I whipped out my phone and dialed the first number in my Recent Call list. “Hey. He’s here. Yeah, I’m sure it’s him. They’re lousy liars when they’re drunk. Uh-huh. Okay, see you in five.” I hung up and let out a slow breath. Only a couple things left to do. I gathered my shoulder-length black hair into a high ponytail. I looped the loose curls around into a messy bun and made sure they wouldn’t tumble free if I shook my head too hard. I took the leather gloves in the pocket of my duster out and pulled them on. Then, I walked out of the bathroom and back to the front entrance. The coat-check girl gave me a second unfriendly look as I returned with my ticket stub to retrieve my things—three vials of holy water, a black rosary with the beads made of onyx and the cross made of wood, a Smith & Wesson .9mm Glock complete with a full magazine of blessed bullets and a silencer, and a worn out page of the Bible. I held out my hands for the items and she dropped them on the counter with an unapologetic, “Oops.” “Thanks,” I said with a roll of my eyes. I put the Glock back in the hip holster at my side and tucked the rest of the items in the pockets of my duster. The brunette demon crossed her arms under her hilariously oversized fake breasts and sent me a vicious sneer. “The door is that way, Seer. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” I smiled back. “God bless you.” She let out an ugly hiss between her pearly white teeth. I blew her a kiss and walked out the door. The parking lot was packed outside now that it was half-past midnight. Demons thrived in darkness, so I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I’d been counting on it.