“ "God, you're a good kisser," he said. "Where'd you learn to do that?"I sat up and flashed him a deadpan look. "Books," I said.”

“Somehow I could lose myself in the ocean the same way I could lose myself in a good book. Maybe it was because both involved suspension--a suspension of weight, a suspension of disbelief--a willingness to surrender to something greater than oneself.”

“The sign of a true woman isn't the ability to recite French poetry or play the pianoforte or cook Chateaubriand. The sign of a true woman is learning to listen to her own voice even when society does its best to drown it out.”

“You sayin' you want to go?""Don't you?""Hell no!""Okay,I'll tell Matt and Jared that they can go to Paris without us."The only response was stunned silence, and I finally turned to smile at him. "Do you want to reconsider?" I asked."The wedding's in Paris?""Yep."His dark eyes were huge, and I could see so much in them. He was excited, almost giddy. I could see it bubbling up in him, but he was trying t stay calm and not get his hopes up. "Can we afford Paris?""No," I said, "but it doesn't matter. Cole's footing the bill."He grabbed my shirt and pushed me back against the countertop, almost as if he was going to kiss me, but stopped short, looking into my eyes. "Are you serious?""Would I lie to you about something like this?""No.""Do you think I'd make it up just to tease you?""No.""Yes."He backed up a step. "Yes what?"he asked.I could hardly keep from laughing that I'd finally managed to turn the tables on him with his own backward form of communication. "Yes, I'm absolutely serious. Cole offered to fly us all to Paris."...His expression was so full of hope, I thought it was a good thing I hadn't tried to say no. He put his hand against my cheek and looked into my eyes. "Tell me what you want to do."All I had to do was tell him the truth. I brushed his hair out of his eyes and said, "I want to do whatever will make you happy."He smiled at me, the huge, excited smile of a child who woke up from his nap to find himself in Disneyland. "I want to go to Paris.""Okay," I said as I leaned down to kiss him. "Then you will.”

“Rolling my eyes, I again had to question why men had to be so stubborn. "Seriously, Auric, you do not want to mess with this thing.""I've dealt with demons before," he said, pulling out a sword from behind his kitchen counter. I had to admit being impressed–his sword was long, shiny, and hard. Wait, that didn't sound right. Needless to say, he had a big one; and judging by the way he moved it, he also knew how to use it. Damn, I was even hornier than before.”

“My slick finger worked my clit back and forth as my eyes slid shut and I imagined Auric's face. Those hard lips, his strong jaw. My nipples puckered as I pictured him sucking them, those wicked green eyes looking up at me as he nipped my erect nubs.”

“I remember a man, a very lonely man, coming up to me at the end of a reading and looking into my face and saying, 'I feel as if I have looked down a corridor and seen into your soul.' And I looked at him and said, 'You haven't.' You know, Here's the good news and the bad news: you haven't! I made something, and you and I could look at it together, but it's not me; you don’t live with me; you're not intimate with me. You're not the man I live with or my friend. You will never know me in that way. I'm making something, like Joseph Cornell makes his boxes and everyone looks into them, but it's the box you look into; it's not the man or the woman. It's alchemy of language and memory and imagination and time and music and sounds that gets made, and that's different from 'Here is what happened to me when I was ten.”