“Sookie," Eric said. I didn't think he'd heard a word. "Yield to me."Well, that was pretty direct.”

“You'll have to ask Bill that, Sookie. And this is the only reason we're going? You're not cleverly usingthis as an excuse to make out with me?""I'm not that clever, Eric.""I think you deceive yourself, Sookie," Eric said with a brilliant smile.”

“Bill said, "She is mine."I wondered if my hands would move. They would. I raised both of them, making an unmistakable one-fingered gesture. Eric laughed, and Bill said "Sookie!" in shocked admonishment."I think that Sookie is telling us she belongs to herself," Eric said softly.”

“As I climbed up into the high old bed, the large fly in my personal ointment did the same. Had I actually told him he could get in bed with me? Well, I decided, as I wriggled down under the soft old sheets and the blanket and the comforter, if Eric had designs on me, I was just too tired to care."Woman?""Hmmm?""What's your name?""Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse.""Thank you, Sookie.""Welcome, Eric.”

“I am here," Eric said."And I am here." I was a little amused at Eric's phone answering technique. "Sookie, my little bullet-sucker," he said, sounding fond and warm. "Eric, my big bullshitter.”

“Sookie, what have we done? And to whom?""I killed a chicken. And I cooked it.""Sookie, Sookie. My bullshit meter is reading that as a false."-Eric Northman, Sookie Stackhouse”