Sure you can handle me, pretty, pretty Bluebell?"
"Did I ever tell you about my snakeskin boots?"
"I do think I need some new feathers for my pillow.

Illium, his expression subdued as it had been for too many days, turned to her. “Mind if I have a go?”
“Kick his ass.”
Stripping off his shirt and boots, Illium held out his hand for one of Venom’s blades. Lips curving, Venom passed it over. “Sure you can handle me, pretty, pretty Bluebell?”
“Did I ever tell you about my snakeskin boots?” A savage grin, and she knew Venom was about to bear the brunt of whatever haunted the blue-winged angel.
Venom swirled his blade in hand. “I do think I need some new feathers for my pillow.

Obviously, I need to study princesses further.

Bluebell,” she said, remembering from Erotique. “Pretty name.”

“I call Dmitri Dark Overlord.”

“Shae,” Dmitri said and the female vampire rose at once to walk quickly into the house. “Now, pretty Bluebell”—another languid stroke across her skin—“tell the Overlord what you discovered.

The longer you live, the more mistakes you make. And the more sorrows you carry.

Do you have infrared vision?" Interest glittered on his face.

Venom smiled, the curious reaction a far preferable one to quivering fear or horror. "You'll have to court me with roses and diamonds before asking such intimate questions."

Vivek snorted. "It's just like working for the Guild--place is full of smartasses.