“When he whispered my name, that's when I knew- this was how death felt.”

“Vampires were myths, childhood stories– as were werewolves, mermaids and dragons. I believed none of it.”

“Love, really? We're vampires, not teenagers. Lust is for the weak.”

“The day stared back an empty gray, with not a speck of white to give character to the lifeless sky.”

“I like that, he said quietly, his voice back to silk. What? I whispered. You sayin' my name, he told me. I'll like it better when you moan it, tonight, when I'm inside you.”

“It’s always you and me.” I nodded again and felt my lips quivering. He kept whispering, “Always me and my Sylvie, yeah?” “Yeah,” I whispered.”

“<…>His body shook as his grin spread to a smile. Then he asked, "You honestly think you can tackle me?" "I didn't say it would be a successful tackle." And then my husband burst out laughing. And I watched. He didn't give this to me often but I always watched. This time it was way better because he was doing it while still inside me. Then his laughter died to a chuckle, he dropped his forehead to mine and his hand came up and curled around the side of my neck. And when he did the last, the laughter died, his eyes held mine and he whispered, "Is my mama home?" I swallowed but I still knew my eyes got bright and my voice was husky when I whispered back, "Yes." He closed his eyes, shifted the lower half of his face and touched his mouth to mine. Then he lifted his head away, opened his eyes and I felt his thumb stroke my jaw. His gaze again locked with mine, he told me gently, "Missed you, baby." I swallowed again and my arms and legs tightened around him. "Me too."<…>”