Pin his fucking legs."
"Can't. Got his arms."
"Knock him out, Paris."
"Sure. Want me to spew diamonds from my ass while I'm at it?

You are mine, woman, and I am yours. Until you, my life was desolate. I existed, but I didn't truly live. Now I live, even in my death.

I've traveled all over the world for the Institute, but I never dreamed I'd meet someone like you."

"Strong?"

A chuckle escaped her. "Yes."

"Handsome?"

"Of course."

"Sharp of wit and skilled with a sword?"

"Absolutely." An other chuckle. "But I mean a man… friend… guy. Oh, I don't know what to call you!"

He savored her amusement—and her earnest words. "Just call me yours. That is all I want to be."

(Ashlyn and Maddox)

Are you suggesting I’m working with the
zombies? That I paid them to pretend to
attack me so that I’d trick you into letting me join you?”“Did you?” Mr. Holland demanded.“Yeah, okay,” I said in a sugar-sweet tone. “You’re right. I was having dinner with Zombie Carl the other night. You know, steaks, rare, and a bottle of vintage type A. He told me all his secrets, but too bad for you I promised him I wouldn’t tell. In exchange I asked him to gather his
best undead buddies and stalk me through
my friend’s yard. And oh, yeah, it was
totally fine if they wanted to use me as an all-night dinner buffet, because having organs is so last season.

Back off, asshole. I haven't had a woman today, so I'm in no mood for this kind of bullshit.

Once I learned, I went online and ordered every romance novel I could find. They're fairy tales for grown-ups.