We knew our strengths and played up our assets. But we couldn't see what made us unique enough for someone to really love us.

You and me, baby girl, we're too jaded. We just want mind-blowing sex with someone who knows we're fucked up and accepts it.

I want there to be happily-ever-afters for the fucked-up crowd.

His kisses were gifts. He kissed with everything he had, with power and passion and hunger and love. He held nothing back, giving everything, exposing everything.

The world would be a very sad place if readers could only love one story.

A wife is meant to be cherished and to be treated with a gentle hand, while a mistress is a convenient cunt to rut in.