“It took Pueblo a few seconds to take in his surroundings. The first thing he realised was that he felt bruised all over; the second was that his clothes were waterlogged, even more than before, from the quicksand; and the third, was that he had landed on his front and was lying on a large, uncomfortable stone.No, wait… In his disoriented state, he shifted his weight. The stone didn't move. He was lying on his own fucking erection.”

“He never knew a single second could be expanded into something timeless and so archaic. It shook him to his core – there were no words for it.”

“Half naked, he drank her in with his eyes, imprinting this moment into his mind. This, he would take to his death – the woman that stirred him to life.”

“He took the pen and book from her and faltered.“Just write anything – anything trivial that won't matter if it comes to pass.”“Erm...” God, he was useless at this.Elena's hair turned blue.“Hey!”“What?”“I don't want blue hair! What the hell did you write that for?”“It seemed trivial.”“Blue hair – blue? That's trivial? What if I can't undo it?”Karl stared at her blankly. His throat went dry. He felt like a total dickhead, but writing really wasn't his strong point, so he went for humour instead and flashed her a grin.“I was going to write that all your clothes fall off, but figured you may have a problem with that. This was the second thing that came to mind.”(Karl and Elena)”

“He pulled out a dagger from ... she wasn't sure where. Did he have that in his loin cloth? What else does he have in there? (Amy's thoughts, The Witching Pen)”

“What am I to you?”He brought his forehead to hers, staring into her, his eyes holding nothing but naked truth. “I’ve loved you for so long… You’re my downfall,” he whispered, his words breaking, “…and my fucking salvation.”

“He called to her primal side; the ancient aspect of her animal self that wanted to submit. It wanted to submit to him; to sacrifice all of who she was at the altar of his maleness and lay herself bare for his taking.”