“Not fat, just not anorexic. She's soft in all the right places.”

“I looked around, counting the competition. Sixteen. To win, all I had to do was incapacitate each one, place my hand over their hearts and turn my palm into a flame. Easy.Yeah right.”

“Sighing, she shut the book with a snap. “All right. You need to vent, so I’ll listen to you vent. But do it quickly, because Rydstorm was about to plunder Sabine with his thick, hard—”

“She's a skank. He's a player. He's cute but almost OD'd last year, so he's a bad bet. She's a two-faced, lying, cheating witch. That's right, Trina, I'm talking to you," she shouted. "By the way," she added just for me, "Trina cusses, which means cussing is trashy, which means my golden rule is to never cuss. I have class. Unlike Trina, the skank of Birmingham." The last part was, of course, shouted.”

“What makes big boobs and perkiness so attractive to boys? I mean, really. Two round, mounds of fat and a fake smile. Yeah, winning attributes.”

“You again,” she said, and she did not sound happy.“I know,” the warrior replied with a heartfelt sigh. “You’re so lucky to see me twice in one day. You’re honored by my presence, yada, yada, heard it all before. Let’s just move on, shall we. I don’t handle fawning very well.”

“Bianka," he said, his patience clearly waning. "This is not a game. Do not make me bind you to my bed.""Ohhh, now that I like. Sounds kinky." She darted around him running her fingertips over his cheek, his neck. "You're as soft as a baby."He sucked in a breath, stiffened. "Bianka.""But better equipped.""Bianka!"She patted his butt. "Yes?”